Starting a New Life

Lin Wan'er's voice held no warmth as it struck Chen Fan's ears.

He slowly turned around and met those eyes full of disgust and coldness.

This was Zhao Long's principal wife, Lin Wan'er.

The daughter of Qinghe County's former education official, she was well-read and sensible, and her fine calligraphy had earned her a modest reputation throughout the county.

Zhao Long had used despicable means to ruin her betrothal, forced Zhao De to go to her family and propose marriage, and married her by force.

From Zhao Long's memories, Chen Fan could feel the original owner's obsession with her, as well as... his anger at being unable to have her.

And Lin Wan'er felt nothing for him but hatred etched into her bones.

"Understood."

Chen Fan spoke the words in a level voice, without Zhao Long's usual impatience or his oily attempts to ingratiate himself.

He didn't even give Lin Wan'er another look, walking straight past her toward the study.

The bellyful of mockery Lin Wan'er had prepared instantly caught in her throat.

She stood there in a daze, watching that familiar figure from behind, yet feeling a hint of unfamiliarity she had never felt before.

There seemed to be something wrong with Zhao Long today...

In the Zhao residence's study, sandalwood incense curled through the air.

When Chen Fan entered, his "father," Zhao De, the magistrate of Qinghe County, had his back to him as he copied a landscape painting.

His brush danced like a dragon and a snake, its strokes imbued with extraordinary force.

"Father."

Chen Fan spoke softly, using the form of address from his memories.

Zhao De didn't turn around, nor did the weasel-hair brush in his hand pause for an instant.

"So you still remember I'm your father?"

"I thought you, Eldest Young Master Zhao, had stopped taking anyone seriously."

Zhao De's voice was deep, carrying the authority of a man long accustomed to power.

The atmosphere in the study instantly dropped to freezing.

Chen Fan said nothing.

He knew from Zhao Long's memories that any excuse at a time like this would only bring a harsher scolding.

The best response was silence.

Sure enough, Zhao De finished the last stroke and laid his brush across the brush washer.

He turned around. His face was seven parts like Zhao Long's, but marked by countless more furrows and far more authority, and it betrayed neither joy nor anger.

"Did you kill that woodcarving seller in the alley?"

Zhao De got straight to the point.

"Yes," Chen Fan answered without hesitation.

There was no hiding something like this.

Zhao De stared at him, as if trying to read something on his face.

But Chen Fan merely kept his head lowered, looking as though he admitted his guilt.

"Were the loose ends taken care of?" Zhao De asked again.

"Zhang San and Li Si went to handle it."

"Hmph." Zhao De snorted coldly, walked over to an armchair and sat down, then picked up a cup of tea that had gone completely cold.

"You committed violence in the street over a woman you'd just snatched, and even ended up killing someone."

"Zhao Long, is this what you've amounted to?"

"You've made me and the entire Zhao Household lose all face!"

Zhao De slammed the teacup down on the table, splashing tea.

Chen Fan remained silent.

He knew the storm was coming.

"Your mother and I have only you, our one and only son. Ever since you were little, we've given you whatever you wanted. But what about you?"

"Fighting cocks and running dogs, bullying men and grabbing women! Who in all of Qinghe County isn't pointing at my back and cursing Zhao De for failing to raise his son properly?"

The more Zhao De spoke, the angrier he became, his chest heaving violently.

"Word of what happened today has already spread. You think silencing a few people will be enough? How will you stop all those wagging tongues?"

"Keep this up, and you'll be the next Chen Fan!"

Something stirred in Chen Fan's heart.

The next Chen Fan?

Sorry, but he already was.

"Father, I was wrong."

Chen Fan finally spoke, his voice quiet but clear.

With that one sentence, Zhao De's prepared bellyful of reprimands was blocked up again.

He looked at his son suspiciously.

Zhao Long was far too unusual today.

At a time like this in the past, he would already have started throwing a tantrum or arguing unreasonably.

Today, he had actually admitted he was wrong?

"Wrong? When have you ever not said you were wrong?" Zhao De's anger hadn't diminished in the slightest.

"This time I really was wrong."

Chen Fan raised his head. The usual unruliness was gone from his face, replaced by a calm that... even Zhao De couldn't quite describe.

"I shouldn't have committed violence in the street and caused you trouble, Father."

Zhao De froze.

Caused him trouble?

That bastard was actually focused on that?

He wasn't concerned that he'd killed someone, but that killing someone had caused his old man trouble?

For a moment, Zhao De didn't know whether to be angry or "comforted."

"You..."

Zhao De pointed at him, unable to speak for a long while.

"I've already made arrangements for you."

In the end, he waved a hand, his face full of weariness.

"West Mountain, the Azure Yang Temple."

"I've already spoken to your Martial Uncle Liu. You'll go up the mountain tomorrow and stay at the temple for a year to temper that disposition of yours!"

"You won't come back down until you've learned some sense!"

Here it came.

Chen Fan understood at once.

The Azure Yang Temple.

The place Zhao Long feared most in his memories.

The rules there were strict, and the temple master, Xuanyangzi, was an impartial Martial Dao expert who had some dealings with Zhao De.

As a child, Zhao Long had been sent there for a month because of his unruly behavior. He'd been beaten every day and punished by being made to carry water and chop firewood, leaving him with a deep psychological scar.

From then on, whenever Zhao De so much as mentioned the Azure Yang Temple, Zhao Long immediately lost his nerve.

But to the present Chen Fan...

That place had a Martial Dao inheritance.

In this world where human lives were treated like grass, what could be more important than strength?

Although he had the cheat Death-Substitution Rebirth, as a Huaxia native, he had an inexplicable attachment to the Martial Dao.

"All right."

Chen Fan's answer was decisive.

The study fell deathly silent once more.

Zhao De's hand stopped in midair, still holding his teacup.

He wondered if he'd misheard.

"What did you say?"

"I said, all right." Chen Fan repeated himself. "I'll follow your arrangements, Father. I'll go up the mountain tomorrow."

Zhao De was completely stunned.

He'd imagined his son crying and making a scene, throwing a tantrum, dropping to his knees and begging for mercy, or even storming out and slamming the door.

The one thing he had never imagined was that he would calmly... agree?

Was this still that bastard son of his?

Could it be... that killing someone today had really frightened him?

Or was the little bastard hatching some new underhanded scheme?

Zhao De scrutinized his son, but there was nothing on his face except calm.

"...As long as you understand."

Only after a long while did Zhao De slowly put down his teacup, his voice carrying a trace of dryness he didn't even notice himself.

"Get out."

"Go back to your courtyard and reflect on yourself!"

"Yes, Father."

Chen Fan bowed, the movement so proper that even Zhao De was a little dazed.

Then he turned and left the study without hesitation.

Watching his son's departing figure disappear, Zhao De fell into a long silence.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was different.

Back at Listening to the Waves Pavilion.

Chen Fan let out a long breath.

He had finally gotten past the first hurdle.

Playing a good-for-nothing who had been "scared out of his wits and seen the error of his ways" seemed to have worked rather well.

He sat down on a stone stool in the courtyard, and a young maid immediately brought him freshly brewed tea.

The fragrance of tea wafted through the air, dispelling the oppressive feeling he'd brought back from the study.

He picked up the teacup and took a small sip.

The warm tea slid down his throat, allowing him to relax completely.

From a commoner who had died in a gutter to the young master of this mansion.

From a woodcarver at anyone's mercy to a good-for-nothing who could decide whether others lived or died.

All in the time it took for a single stick of incense to burn.

The great rises and falls of life were truly like a dream.

He needed a little time to adjust to the change.

He closed his eyes and began sorting through Zhao Long's vast and chaotic memories.

Wealth, power, connections...

And women, of course.

His principal wife, Lin Wan'er, was as cold as frost and hated him to the bone.

His second concubine, Liu Ruyan, was a courtesan whose freedom had been bought from a brothel. She had a fiery temperament and only pretended to get along with him.

His third concubine, Su Qingyu, was a modest beauty from a humble family, timid and meek. Zhao Long had seized her by force, and she felt nothing but fear toward him.

There was also Cui'er, whom he'd only gotten his hands on today, something of an extra.

It was truly... a complete mess.

But to the present Chen Fan, none of that was a problem.

He was a brand-new player who had taken over a high-level account.

Whatever problems the account itself had didn't matter.

What mattered was that he could use the resources in the account however he pleased.

"Someone."

Chen Fan spoke in a calm voice.

A household servant immediately came trotting over.

"What are your orders, young master?"

Chen Fan set down his teacup, leaned back in his chair, and stretched lazily.

Sunlight filtered through gaps in the leaves, casting dappled light and shadow over him.

"Go invite Second Madam to my room."

He paused, then added another sentence.

"Tell her her husband has a surprise for her."