A Whip Crack to Establish Authority

On the way, Zi Jian dragged Zi Bofeng and the other boy along at a rapid pace. Only when they were nearing the small mountain village did he slow down slightly.

Zi Bofeng wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and looked up.

This was a tranquil little mountain village, somewhat like the villages Zi Bofeng had seen in ink-wash landscape paintings, only far more dilapidated.

Though it was already the turn of spring into summer, the peaks, the streams, and even the village still carried an air of bleak desolation.

Barren mountains and treacherous waters.

That was the thought that surfaced in Zi Bofeng's mind.

He recalled the murky deathly aura shrouding the jade fragment, and his heart grew a little heavier.

But in the next moment, he brightened like sunshine. He had come, carrying the Porcelain Shard and the power to change everything. That was enough.

Nothing could stand in his way.

The Zi father and son's "glorious homecoming" received no welcome.

Lower Yan Village lay on the sunward side of Bird-Mouse Mountain, built against the mountain. Most of the villagers bore the surname Yan.

Yan was a major surname in the region. There were Yan Village, Upper Yan Village, Lower Yan Village, Great Yan Village, Little Yan Village, and many other settlements that echoed one another. They had all once been branches of Yan Village, following the jade mine's vein when it moved here. But now the jade mine had run dry, and they had nowhere else to go.

Zi Bofeng and his father had moved here from elsewhere, so their home stood at the northernmost edge of the village, closest to the mountain and also in the most dangerous place. If flash floods burst down from the mountain, their home would be the first to collapse. If wild beasts came down the slopes, theirs would be the first household to suffer.

And near their home stood another house—the home of Little Stone's family.

Little Stone's father had once been the finest hunter in the entire village. Before Little Stone was born, he had suffered grievous injuries while hunting in the mountains. Uncle Zhuzi carried him back, but before long, he breathed his last.

Little Stone's mother's maiden surname had been Wu, and people called her Yan Wu Shi. After Little Stone's father died, his brothers drove the heavily pregnant Yan Wu Shi out, claiming that she brought misfortune to her husband. She moved into a ruined old house that had been washed away by floodwaters halfway. By chance, the Zi father and son moved here from elsewhere. Taking pity on her, they helped repair the house, allowing her to survive the bitter winter without freezing to death.

Yan Wu Shi was also a woman of grit. After giving birth to Little Stone, she supported the household alone and raised him to adulthood. The two families lived door to door, one headed by a widower and the other by a widow, and plenty of people gossiped about them. Thus, both Zi Jian and Yan Wu Shi were careful, not daring to cross the thunder pool by even half a step. Yet the two families depended upon each other, and their relationship only grew closer.

Before Zi Bofeng took the Prefectural Examination, Zi Jian had taken Little Stone with him into the city. But they had been gone for over ten days. In those days, news traveled poorly; only on the third day did word arrive that Zi Bofeng had fallen ill. Now that they had finally met again, Yan Wu Shi pulled Zi Bofeng and Little Stone into her arms and fussed over them endlessly.

Zi Bofeng finally managed to break free, claiming that he still had to find the Clan Elder to assume his post, and hurried away. Little Stone wanted to flee too, but Zi Bofeng pretended not to see his pleading, pitiful gaze and turned to run off.

After returning home, Zi Bofeng washed up and changed into a freshly cleaned set of clothes. In a household occupied by only two grown men, there was not even a bronze mirror. He filled a basin with water and looked at his reflection in it, nodding in satisfaction. Then he clapped his hands, and a seal appeared in his palm—the Village Chief Seal. Taking the seal and the Prefect's letter of appointment, he went to find the Clan Elder and assume his post.

Once outside, Zi Bofeng held his head high and puffed out his chest, strolling along with measured steps and a swaggering sway. He was not going to assume office—he was going to flaunt his prestige. He had taken first place in the Prefectural Examination and become a Xiucai. At the very least, he ought to enjoy the looks of envy, jealousy, and hatred from everyone, shouldn't he?

Yet for some reason, there were unusually few people in the village. As he walked, he would spot someone standing in the distance, only for them to vanish by the time he approached. One after another, they hurriedly shut their doors and windows, avoiding Zi Bofeng in haste.

Would it kill you to come out, greet me, call me Master Xiucai, and let this grandpa enjoy himself for a moment? Zi Bofeng grumbled inwardly. These fellow villagers truly did not understand mutual respect and affection. They needed some proper enlightenment!

After walking a while longer, however, Zi Bofeng sensed that something was wrong. These people were avoiding him as though he were the god of plague. Old or young, all were the same. Clearly, someone had long since given the word and set the policy. They were advancing and retreating as one.

There were only enough people with such authority to count on one hand.

The several dozen households of Lower Yan Village were all connected by blood or marriage. The Clan Elder was the person of highest seniority in the village, respected for both virtue and prestige. Whenever there was a dispute too difficult to settle, or a wedding, funeral, or marriage arrangement in a household, the Clan Elder would mediate and preside over it.

Eight or nine out of every ten villages in the world operated this way.

At that moment, the Clan Elder stood before his home, holding a horsewhip.

Around him stood more than a dozen people in a dark mass: the village schoolchildren and their fathers.

The Clan Elder's youngest grandson lay at the entrance of the alley, craning his neck to look. Suddenly, he ducked his head back and whispered, "He's here! He's here!"

"Quick, get over here and lie down!" With a wave of the Clan Elder's hand, that dark mass of people all dropped to the ground. They lay down in perfect order of age and seniority, swift and precise; clearly, they had rehearsed this several times. Some were holding back laughter, while others wore miserable expressions.

Though the Clan Elder was old, his ears were sharp and his eyes clear. He pricked up his ears and listened. When he heard Zi Bofeng's footsteps reach the corner, he flicked his whip with a crack above his youngest grandson's backside.

The whip did not hit his backside, but the grandson lying on the ground let out a miserable howl all the same. "Grandpa, spare me!"

Not bad acting. The Clan Elder nodded. Catching sight of Zi Bofeng turning around the corner from the corner of his eye, he immediately roared, "You still have the nerve to call me Grandpa!"

One hand on his hip and the other holding the horsewhip, he pointed at the dozen or so people lying on the ground. He looked rather like a great man pointing out the rivers and mountains. Though his head was full of white hair, his back stood straight, and his voice rang like a great bell, full of vigor.

"You unfilial descendants!" The old man pointed at his sons, grandsons, and younger descendants. "I begged grandfathers and pleaded with grandmothers before I managed to invite an old classmate from my school days to serve as your teacher and teach you to read and write. Tell me, all of you studied reading and writing, yet among so many of you, not one got into an academy! Instead, a boy from another surname got into one! Hah?"

It had begun as an act, but the more he spoke, the angrier he became. With a flick of his horsewhip, he struck his youngest grandson on the backside again. This time, the lash landed for real. Though he had not used much force, the boy lying on the ground howled as if he had been stabbed. "Grandpa, you really hit me!"

"You're the one I'm hitting!" The old man flicked his horsewhip, blowing his beard and glaring. "You think you dare run? Get down! Lie properly! Little Six, I feed you the finest food and give you the best drink every day. I never expected you to become some high official, but surely you could at least bring me back a Xiucai title! Look at you—eating more than an ox, sleeping more soundly than a pig. When have you not used studying as an excuse to hide in your room and snore your head off? Watch me whip you!"

Crack! Another lash fell.

Aow! Another howl followed.

"Keep howling! Keep howling and I'll beat you to death! Shut your mouth, do you hear me?" What had initially been meant as a performance of horsewhip family discipline for Zi Bofeng to see, to display his authority, was now making him angrier and angrier. He practically wanted to beat his most treasured grandson to death for real.

Yet who knew who had spoiled him most fiercely in the first place, afraid he would melt if held in the mouth and afraid he would break if held in the hand? Even his father was not allowed to scold him once.

After beating his sixth grandson, the old man's flesh hurt and his heart hurt all the same. He glanced sideways and saw Zi Bofeng standing not far away. Only then did he turn around and walk over with his whip, smiling without warmth. "Ah, so it is Master Xiucai. I failed to welcome you from afar, my apologies, my apologies..."

"Old Sir!" Zi Bofeng gave a proper bow, using the etiquette of a junior. "Please just call me Bofeng, Old Sir. You truly flatter me too much."

The old man narrowed his eyes. Ever since the Zi father and son had come to the village, he had been its Clan Elder. When they first wished to settle here, it had been the old man who stepped forward to help them register their household, allowing them to truly settle down. Yet after Zi Bofeng began studying, he had gradually become more and more unpleasant to look at.

The old man's white hair was combed without a strand out of place. Though age had hollowed out his face, his chest remained broad. He still seemed to possess the heroic bearing of his days digging jade in the mountains and retrieving treasures from the waters, with faint traces of the demeanor of Meng City's finest jade craftsman.

Back then, throughout the lands around Meng City, who had not heard of Yan Lao Wu's exploits? Digging jade in the mountains and seeking treasure beneath the waters were no safe occupations. Yan Lao Wu had once possessed three great prides: first, tearing a tiger apart with his bare hands; second, capturing a water python alive; third, having no fewer than five sons. Whenever people throughout the surrounding villages mentioned Yan Lao Wu, who would not raise a thumb and praise, "What a fine man!"

But now jade had become scarce, and searching for jade could no longer easily sustain a livelihood. Heroes aged in their twilight years, and his strength was no longer what it had been. More regrettably, each of his five sons was worse than the last. The old man's only pride now was that he had controlled this mountain village for decades, keeping everyone harmonious and living in mutual affection.

So long as he did not die, no one could challenge his authority!

Though he was old, he remained a mighty lion. Yet now, a little lion still smelling of mother's milk had barged into his territory, even dreaming of seizing his ruling position. What angered him even more was that he himself had brought this little lion here. How could he not be furious?

In recent years, his health had worsened day by day. Yet for some unknown reason, he had suddenly become spirited again lately, as if the strength of youth had returned to him. His fighting spirit blazed even hotter. Even if another tiger stood before him now, he would still have the strength to tear it apart alive once more.

"I wouldn't dare!" The old man narrowed his eyes. Though aged, his gaze remained as sharp as ever, making Zi Bofeng's heart pound in alarm. Zi Bofeng could see a faint glow flickering around the old man's body. It was Soul-Nature Light emanating from the depths of his bloodline, spiritual energy naturally generated by the human body. The old man's spiritual energy was denser than that of an ordinary man in his prime. His reputation was indeed well deserved.