A Piece of Trash, a Wastrel

"Damn bastard!"

Wei Quji's face was so dark it looked ready to drip water.

Right under his nose, that unknown enemy had used the people of Small Forest Town as sacrifices, then expended the lingering souls of the dead from every generation across Maple Forest Territory—souls that should have long since been at rest—to conjure the phantom of Ghost Gate Pass. And in the end, he had calmly escaped right in front of Wei Quji.

And Wei Quji, a mighty fifth-rank expert, had rushed there with all his might, only to come away without even a fart to show for it!

As City Lord, he had failed in his duty. As a powerhouse, he had been slapped in the face.

When had he ever suffered such humiliation?

So...

"Wastrel!"

Wei Quji spun around and slapped Wei Yan, sending him flying several meters!

Not one of the dozens of people present dared make a sound, even though almost every one of them felt indignant.

Even Wei Yan himself merely got to his feet in silence, without a word.

He had plenty of reasons to defend himself, plenty of reasons to be furious. Before the mist, he had charged forward fearlessly. Against the Nine Palaces Formation, he had been the first to break through. When he saw Ghost Gate Pass, he had risked everything and burned the only Red Letter on him without hesitation.

From any angle, he had done the best he could at this stage. There was nothing to fault him for.

But a success was a success, and a failure was a failure. An army had no time for excuses.

Wei Quji had granted him the authority to gather people from the Dao Academy and investigate Small Forest Town, yet he had failed to prevent this from happening. That was dereliction of duty.

Wei Quji could even have killed him on the spot.

But what would that accomplish?

Wei Quji had arrived in a fury, then left in a fury.

Some of the young people carried the wounded, some supported one another, and some carried corpses. And so they dispersed.

These young disciples of the Dao Academy had just endured a grueling battle with heavy casualties,

a battle that had been incredibly difficult, only to prove utterly useless in the end.

From beginning to end, they hadn't even known who their opponent was. Yet their opponent had already achieved his goal and left.

They had been branded as—wastrels.

"Damn it... I can't accept this."

Du Yehu lay sprawled across his dormitory bed like an iron tower toppled to the ground.

He hadn't suffered any serious injuries, and the damage to his foundation had already been repaired by the Foundation-Solidifying Pill Zhao Rucheng had brought him. He just needed some time to recover in bed.

The Foundation-Solidifying Pill was certainly precious, but there was nothing awkward about accepting it. Du Yehu needed one, and Zhao Rucheng had one, so that was that. They were the kind of people who would entrust each other with their lives, let alone something like this.

But to be honest, the battle at Small Forest Town had dealt a blow to every Dao Academy disciple who took part. For anyone aspiring to transcendence and yearning for power, being helpless was probably the worst thing of all.

Perhaps Zhao Rucheng was the only exception. He had already gone to the Three-Part Fragrance Pavilion to "recuperate." Apparently, he wanted to win a beauty's heart in one fell swoop by presenting himself as a hero who had narrowly escaped death.

Du Yehu wasn't the sort who could stay in bed, but at the moment, that was all he could do. No one would indulge him if he wanted a drink, either. So, unusually, he felt a little depressed.

Ling He said nothing. He was meditating with his eyes closed.

As for Jiang Wang... he was eating with Jiang An'an.

Cai's Mutton Shop, a century-old establishment.

Two bowls of fragrant mutton soup, and ten pounds of neatly sliced cold mutton.

Jiang An'an held a steamed bun in her left hand and chopsticks in her right... the chopsticks held a piece of mutton. The reason it was fair to say she held the chopsticks in her fist was that the way she gripped them really was unusual. Perhaps no one had ever corrected her before; she simply wrapped all five fingers around them and grabbed hold.

After living with Jiang Wang for so long, she wasn't as shy and reserved as she had been at first.

She took a bite on the left, then a bite on the right. As she ate, she would occasionally lean down toward the table and happily slurp up some mutton soup. Two shallow dimples showed on her face, and she looked utterly content.

Cai's Mutton Shop wasn't cheap. If Jiang Wang were on his own, he might not have been willing to eat here.

Though Wei Yan had been punished for the Small Forest Town mission, he had still kept his promise and secured a reward of twenty Dao Merit points for each of them, along with some silver as an allowance. For cultivators, that was the least important part. But for Jiang An'an, being able to eat something delicious mattered a lot.

"Do you like it?" Jiang Wang asked with a smile.

"Mm... yeah!" Little An'an nodded vigorously.

"From now on, we can come every month..." Jiang Wang silently counted his savings. "No, every ten days. How does that sound?"

Jiang An'an nodded again.

She chatted with her big brother now and then—most of the time, she answered with a nod or a shake of her head—but her little hands never stopped. While nodding, she picked up another piece of mutton, rolled it carefully through the dipping sauce, then popped the whole piece into her mouth.

"An'an, how have your lessons been going lately?" Perhaps every adult eventually brought a conversation with a child around to this. Jiang Wang considered himself an adult now, so the question came naturally, even though he was only seventeen.

Jiang An'an even paused in the middle of chewing. Her little mouth was stuffed full, and it took some effort before she managed to squeeze out, "Th-they're okay."

Jiang Wang nodded with satisfaction.

As he looked at his little sister, a peaceful happiness flowed through him. The hardships of battle, the grief of seeing his fellow disciples wounded and killed, the helplessness of failing to stop what had happened... It all seemed to fade away.

Some things were certainly heartbreaking, but right here, in the life they had now—how happy they were.

He wanted to hold on to it forever.

Walking through the Wang Clan's estate, Wang Changxiang nodded to clansmen who greeted him. He was poised and serene, just as he had always been. Even the most fastidious members of the clan couldn't find a single bad thing to say about him.

The Zhang, Fang, and Wang clans of Maple Forest City were roughly equal in strength and standing, making it difficult to say which one was superior. But with Zhang Linchuan now sitting at third place on the Dao Merit Board, the Zhang Clan had edged ahead of the others. Wang Changxiang ranked seventh on the board, so the Wang Clan wasn't far behind.

The Fang Clan, however, had suffered a crushing setback. The previous generation's prodigy had died in a trial, and Fang Pengju, the best of this generation, had been killed. Now only Fang Heling remained, having barely made it into the inner sect with a Vein-Opening Pill bought at great expense. In the eyes of those who knew better, the Fang Clan had already been left behind by the other two.

Setting such matters aside, Wang Changxiang had never liked getting involved in mundane affairs. Though his wisdom was more than enough to see the filth and greed behind all that warmth, he had always remained as unruffled as a cloud drifting across the sky.

The farther he walked, the more secluded the path became.

At last, he stopped in front of a somewhat weathered little courtyard. It stood in a remote corner of the Wang Clan's estate, with almost no one living nearby. Its owner was like a lone bird, cut off from the flock.

Wang Changxiang reached out and pushed the gate open. The wooden door creaked sharply, disturbing the courtyard's quiet.

Unlike the weathered, mottled outer wall, the courtyard was unexpectedly neat and charming. To the left, a grapevine trellis had been raised high, with a recliner beneath it, its surface worn smooth from use. No one lay on the recliner, but a fat orange cat did.

It wasn't startled by his arrival. It merely cracked open its sleepy eyes and gave him a listless glance.

"Little Orange," Wang Changxiang greeted it.

The fat orange cat turned away and closed its eyes again, utterly dismissive.

Wang Changxiang didn't take offense. He continued forward. A large water vat stood to the front right, lotus leaves floating on its surface. Every so often, bubbles rose up. There were probably fish in it.

Then he stopped, because he caught the aroma of food.

Almost at the same moment, Little Orange sprang up from the recliner and turned its head, the movement smooth and swift.

In front of the main hall, beneath the eaves, stood a low table. Just then, a young man stepped out from behind the door, carrying a tray of food. The aroma came from the dishes he held.

He wasn't handsome, but neither could he be called ugly. There was simply something about him that made people feel he was "distant." Perhaps it was those eyes of his, far too bland and unreadable.

The aloof young man crouched and carefully set the dishes from the tray on the low table. There were two bowls of plump, snowy-white rice, two plates of glossy green vegetables, and two plates of pork trotters stewed until tender and soft.

The man sat down on the threshold, took out his chopsticks, and tapped the table with their ends. "Time to eat."

Wang Changxiang didn't move, because he knew the man wasn't calling him, even though he very much wanted to go over and share the meal.

With a whoosh, the orange cat darted to the low table at a speed that didn't suit its size. It first lowered its head to sniff the plate of pork trotters, then seemed satisfied and placed its front paws on the table to eat.

Wang Changxiang parted his lips. "Big brother."

Perhaps only a few people still remembered. Wang Changxiang, the Wang Clan's pride, had an older brother.

In truth, he was the eldest son of the Wang Clan's direct line, and by the rules of succession, the clan leader's heir most rightly entitled to inherit.

But he was also a wastrel who had squandered a precious Vein-Opening Pill and still failed to manifest a Dao Vein. He had brought the Wang Clan endless ridicule, leaving it a full step behind the other two clans.

The Wang Clan's shame: Wang Changji.