The Rift

As it turned out, squandering money was a skill. He Lingchuan had gone all out, but in a whole month, he had only spent two hundred taels.

In a remote borderland like this, a hundred taels was enough for an ordinary family of four to live comfortably for five or six years!

Madam Ying gave a light cough. "Lingchuan, I was just about to speak with you. The summer and autumn expenses were too high, so the manor has to tighten its belt, too. Starting next month, your allowance will be reduced to no more than eighty taels." As she spoke, she glanced at her husband.

Before He Chunhua could respond, He Lingchuan had already cried out, "Eighty taels? That wouldn't even cover two trips to the Wild Goose Pavilion!"

Madam Ying's expression darkened slightly. "Your younger brother doesn't even spend twenty taels a month."

"He..." He Lingchuan protested. "He eats and drinks at home. What does he need money for? I have so many people following me around. Besides, I have to maintain connections in the city, and that costs money. It's not just for my own sake!"

"What connections?" Madam Ying gave a cold laugh. "Those people curry favor with you, but their eyes are fixed on your father. Do connections like that need maintaining? Our family doesn't lack watchdogs."

She gave He Lingchuan no chance to respond. "The times are unsettled, and our money and grain must be put to proper use. Lingchuan, your father and I don't expect you to ease the family's troubles, but at least don't cause us more."

Those words were rather harsh. He Lingchuan immediately felt a knot in his chest, along with a surge of resentment.

But those weren't his own emotions.

In fact, every time the family sat down to eat, he could feel "displeasure" stirring deep in his mind. It was almost an instinctive reaction of the body.

His predecessor had hated scenes like this. Since He Chunhua had always been very protective of him, those feelings must have been directed mainly at the lady of the house.

"Father." He turned to his father without hesitation.

He Chunhua pondered briefly, then said, "Your mother is right, but eighty taels..." It was still too little. "Make it two hundred."

A hundred taels was enough. He didn't want spending money to become such a chore. He Lingchuan scowled. "That's still far too little! Three hundred!"

Mother and son argued back and forth for a long while, while He Chunhua chipped in from the sidelines, playing peacemaker. In the end, Madam Ying dug in her heels and settled on one hundred and eighty taels, not a coin more or less.

Madam Ying shot her husband a reproachful look. She had wanted to cut her eldest son's allowance, but his father couldn't bring himself to be harsh. After all that arguing, they had only reduced it by twenty taels from the previous month!

Truly, those who didn't manage a household didn't know how dear firewood and rice were.

"Over six hundred taels of silver saved every month." He Yue blinked. "That could buy dozens of sets of fine armor, or several excellent warhorses, or enlist at least sixty men."

The moment he finished speaking, He Lingchuan slapped the table and stood up. "I'm full!"

Before striding out of the dining hall, he remembered to scoop a stewed pear from the brass basin and eat it as he walked.

The pear had been stewed for over half an hour with rock sugar and Sichuan peppercorns. It was sweet, tender, and soft, and it could also clear the mind and dispel internal heat—just the thing to cool down after eating lamb.

No one stopped him.

When he was almost out of the garden, He Lingchuan looked back and saw the other three still sitting around the table, eating and talking together in perfect harmony.

He shrugged and hurried back to his own quarters.

To be fair, He Chunhua really did treat his eldest son well. He Lingchuan alone occupied the largest, quietest, and most beautiful courtyard on the eastern side, complete with black pines, white peach trees, winding streams, pavilions, and even a small martial training ground.

He Yue's quarters were also in the eastern part of the manor, but covered only half the area of his elder brother's.

The only servant in the courtyard came over when he heard the noise, but He Lingchuan waved him away.

He Lingchuan took off his shirt and practiced his punches in the moonlight for over half an hour, until he was drenched in sweat and thoroughly satisfied.

His predecessor hadn't been a literary talent, but he had loved martial arts from childhood and never shied away from hardship—a rare trait among the sons of noble families. The He family had produced generals in generations past and had its own body-tempering method, which He Chunhua had passed down to his eldest son.

When he trained with all his strength, a faint white mist shrouded his sturdy body, though it was visible only in the moonlight.

That was just right. He Lingchuan quickly stopped punching and sat down to regulate his breathing.

The white mist was gradually drawn back in through his mouth and nose.

And so one cycle was complete.

The divine art he practiced was passed down through the He family and was called the "Traction Technique."

Using the body-tempering method, He Lingchuan forced his vital energy out through the surface of his body, letting it come into close contact with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, especially the radiance of the moon. Then, through breath regulation, he drew it back in and purified it, keeping the essence and discarding the dross.

Thus, movement and stillness, outflow and return, drawing and pulling completed the cycle.

Of course, he could also complete a full cycle using the Traction Technique alone. But beginning with body tempering could drive out the cold, grime, and illness that had built up in his body, making it more effective at purifying his vital energy.

After regulating his breath, He Lingchuan felt even more invigorated. He grabbed a white towel and went to bathe.

A servant had prepared the hot water. He was a plainspoken, honest-looking man in his thirties.

He Lingchuan sank into the hot water and let out a long breath. If only someone could scrub his back right now. That would feel wonderful.

As a major transportation hub for travelers coming from both north and south, Blackwater City naturally had bathhouses, known as "bath halls." People went there to bathe together, and back scrubbing and foot care were standard services. But those were bathhouses. Young Master He couldn't enjoy the services of young women scrubbing his back in his own home.

Because he had no maids.

Not teenage maids, not women in their twenties, not even those in their thirties or forties... He had none at all.

To practice the He family's inherited martial art and reap twice the benefits with half the effort, while gaining lifelong rewards, he had to preserve his virginity.

When He Lingchuan first began learning it, he hadn't understood the drawbacks. Only after growing up and seeing his friends carousing and enjoying themselves did he go to question He Chunhua. His father had beaten his chest in anguish.

He Lingchuan was devoted to the martial path, of course, and wasn't willing to give up halfway. So he endured it.

Still, He Chunhua didn't want to deliberately test his eldest son's self-control, so he never sent any women to his courtyard.

Sitting in the wooden tub, He Lingchuan thought of the West Mountain Leopard Demon, the Donglai Manor guards caught by Hong and Bai, and the odds and ends hidden inside the Leopard Tooth.

When would Donglai Manor discover that the guards it had sent to Blackwater City had gone missing?

How would it react?

And how would the prefect respond?

Without thinking, he picked up the pendant resting on his chest and looked at it twice. Then he suddenly yanked it off and flung it hard toward the distant garden.

The pendant traced an arc through the air and flew over the wall.

A few breaths later, he felt something strange on his chest. He looked down—

The pendant had returned on its own and was resting safely around his neck.

Sure enough, no matter how many times he threw it away, the thing always came back.

He had examined it carefully again and again. Though it looked a lot like jade, it wasn't made of jade; it seemed more like ivory.

After all, ivory and bone were very similar in composition.

On the day he fell off the cliff, he had heard the leopard roar a new term:

Divine Bone.

Could the pendant that stubbornly clung to him really be the Divine Bone?

After dinner, He Yue took his leave, and He Chunhua and his wife returned to wash up.

Only then did Madam Ying get the chance to scold her husband. "You indulge Lingchuan far too much. He alone accounts for the largest share of the manor's monthly expenses! And look at the way he slapped the table and walked out!" How brazen!

"Not next month," He Chunhua reassured her. "He was seriously injured not long ago, and now we've cut his allowance. It's only natural that he's upset."

Madam Ying was about to say more, but He Chunhua had already changed the subject. "Have you noticed any changes in Lingchuan lately?"

"Lately?" Madam Ying thought it over carefully, then shook her head. "Apart from spending a little less, he doesn't seem to have changed at all."