Entering the Manor

As the cyan glow of the Spirit Testing Jade faded, the air in front of the ancestral hall stagnated for a moment before being shattered by a surge of clamorous noise.

Wang Shu stood below the stage, craning his neck, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the thin, small figure upon the platform.

The distance was too great for him to see the expression on his son's face; he only saw the green light flare before the Zhao Family immortal master said something to Erwa.

However, the surrounding crowd had not yet fully dispersed, and the discussions quickly reached his ears:

"Incredible... Grade C!"

"I wonder whose ancestral grave is smoking with good fortune..."

"Tsk, I heard he's the son of a tenant farmer. What a lucky life."

Wang Shu's Adam's apple bobbed, but he couldn't produce a proper sound. Could it be Erwa?!

It wasn't until two servants arrived before him that Wang Shu snapped back to reality.

"Old Man Wang, the immortal master requests your presence."

He was practically half-carried to the front of the stage. The chill of the bluestone slabs seeped through the soles of his straw sandals, yet it could not suppress the heat rising from his feet to the top of his head.

He looked up and saw his son descending from the stage, that small, dark face glowing in the afternoon light.

"Dad!"

Li Tui rushed to him in a few strides, his voice trembling with "excitement," though his eyes were clearer than those of any ordinary thirteen-year-old farm boy.

He grabbed Wang Shu's arm with great force: "I have spiritual roots! I'm Grade C!"

Wang Shu let out a wheezing sound in his throat and gripped his son's wrist tightly in return.

It's real. It's not a dream.

"Old Man Wang."

Zhao Mingsheng's voice came from the stage. Wang Shu suddenly realized he was still clutching his son and hurriedly let go, his knees buckling as he prepared to kneel, only to be held up by a gentle force.

"Your son's talent is acceptable; he is a talent worth molding." Zhao Mingsheng's gaze lingered on Li Tui for a moment before turning to Wang Shu. "The Zhao Family is willing to gift twenty mu of paddy fields and thirty taels of silver to settle your household. In the future, as your son cultivates within the Zhao Family, he will have his own prospects."

Twenty mu of land. Thirty taels of silver.

Wang Shu's ears were ringing; these words hammered heavily into his heart. He wanted to speak, but his lips trembled a few times before he could squeeze out a hoarse voice: "Th-thank you, Immortal Master... I... I..."

He was incoherent.

Zhao Mingsheng stopped looking at him, his gaze falling upon Li Tui: "The name 'Erwa' is ultimately vulgar. I bestow upon you a new name. From now on, you shall be called 'Wang Yuan'."

Wang Shu trembled all over and hurriedly nudged his son: "Quick, thank the Immortal Master!"

Li Tui did not hesitate; he dropped to his knees with a thud, his forehead striking the bluestone slab solidly. Three muffled sounds, clean and crisp.

"Disciple Wang Yuan thanks the Immortal Master for the name!"

He raised his head, a red mark on his forehead, looking extremely sincere.

Zhao Mingsheng nodded slightly and flicked his fingertip almost imperceptibly.

A faint trace of spiritual energy imprint sank into Li Tui's body.

It was not a restriction, but merely a mark to facilitate tracking in the future.

Li Tui timed his body to tremble slightly, as if overcome by uncontrollable excitement.

The acting is convincing enough.

Li Tui's mind was perfectly clear; his previous display was merely to avoid suspicion that might arise from being too calm.

As dusk began to fall, Li Tui carried a small bundle and followed behind Zhao Mingsheng onto the bluestone path.

The bundle contained only two sets of coarse cloth clothes that Wang Shu had secretly stuffed inside earlier. The fabric was rough, washed until it turned white, and patched at the elbows, yet it was folded neatly.

However, before they had walked even twenty steps, the sound of stumbling footsteps came from behind, and then Li Tui's sleeve was gripped by a pair of rough hands.

It was Wang Shu, who had chased after him.

Wang Shu's lips moved a few times before he squeezed out a low, hoarse voice to Li Tui: "When you get to the Zhao Family... be sharp."

The words fell, and he paused for a moment, as if weighing something, before finally adding: "Keep the silver safe. Don't let anyone know."

Li Tui took the pieces of silver, which were slightly damp from sweat, and remained silent for a moment.

The act must be played to the end, he thought to himself, while his face already displayed the appropriate expression of a young boy.

Li Tui raised his eyes to look at Wang Shu's weathered, lined face, deliberately letting his voice tighten with a choked sob: "Dad... that land, farm it well. Don't... don't work too hard."

Then, Li Tui gently pulled back his sleeve, took one last look at Wang Shu's hunched figure, turned, and never looked back.

The bluestone path stretched into the twilight. The houses on both sides grew denser, and the eaves rose higher.

In the distance, the black tiles and white walls of the Zhao Family's secondary residence came into view, with towering gatehouses and the dim, yellow light of lanterns beneath the eaves.

West Courtyard, Grade B, Number 7.

The old servant left after leading Li Tui to this place. Four youths stood in the courtyard, their shadows elongated by the dusk.

"My name is Zhou Fu, from the Zhou family's grain shop in town," the slightly chubby youth spoke first, his voice deliberately raised. "We'll be living in the same courtyard from now on, so let's look out for each other."

The other two announced their backgrounds: Sun Yu from the Sun family's cloth shop, and Wu Dachui from the blacksmith's forge.

The three pairs of eyes finally landed on Li Tui.

Li Tui lowered his gaze, his face showing just the right amount of awkwardness: "My name is Wang Yuan, from Li Family Village."

"Li Family Village?" Zhou Fu raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the patches on his elbows. "Oh, a farmer, then."

The tone was flat, yet it drew a clear line between them.

Sun Yu and Wu Dachui said nothing, but the distance in their eyes was already clear.

Li Tui didn't say another word, carrying his bundle toward the innermost room. Pushing the door open, a faint smell of mold greeted him.

The room was simple: one bed, one table, one chair, and one cabinet. On the bed lay a semi-new quilt, and on the table sat an oil lamp, a ceramic bowl, and a pair of bamboo chopsticks.

Simple and clean.

Outside the window was a small bamboo grove, the bamboo leaves rustling in the evening breeze.

Li Tui set down his bundle, lit the oil lamp, and then, guided by the moonlight outside, walked over to the window.

His fingertips traced the window lattice, the rough wood grain grazing his pads.

This deep mansion of the Zhao Family was the starting point for his cultivation in this life; after all, he had taken root here in his previous life.

And now, he needed spirit grain, he needed cultivation methods, and he needed to find a crack to climb upward within this strictly hierarchical family system. Utilizing the power of the Zhao Family was undoubtedly the best choice.

As a tenant farmer, his only reliance was the spirit root within his body...

As the wind outside the window picked up, the bamboo shadows swayed in the moonlight like countless blurred hands.

Li Tui slowly withdrew his gaze, taking one last look at those hands belonging to the youth, covered in calluses and cracks.

Then, he gently curled his fingers, clutching the moonlight, the bamboo shadows, and all his surging thoughts into his palm.

He then turned slowly and blew out the oil lamp.

The moment darkness completely swallowed the room, the last trace of the youth's awkwardness and confusion in Li Tui's eyes was extinguished as well.

Replacing it was a calm like a deep pool, tempered by life and death.

If you can't find it by the book title, try searching for the author; perhaps it just changed its name!