Ridding the People of a Scourge, and I'm the Scourge?
Chen Fan only stirred awake when the carriage entered Qinghe County and stopped before the imposing vermilion gates of the Zhao residence.
"The young master is back!"
When the servant at the gate saw him step down from the carriage, he immediately came forward with a broad smile. His fawning manner was identical to Mingfeng's at the gates of the Azure Yang Temple.
Chen Fan grunted, tossed his bundle to Zhang San, and headed straight into the residence.
Rather than return to his own Listening to the Waves Pavilion, he made his way to the study in the inner quarters, following a route he knew well.
He still had to put on a proper show.
In the study, sandalwood incense lingered as before.
Zhao De, the magistrate of Qinghe County, sat in an armchair, absorbed in a book.
"Father."
Chen Fan entered the study and bowed.
Zhao De looked up and put down his book. He sized up his son. After a month apart, he seemed... rounder?
He'd managed to put on weight while living a life of austere cultivation on the mountain?
"You're back." Zhao De's reaction was mild. "Did you make any progress at the Azure Yang Temple?"
"No." Chen Fan answered with complete frankness.
Those two words instantly choked off the string of questions Zhao De had prepared.
He knitted his brows. "What do you mean, no?"
"Exactly what I said." Chen Fan stood in the middle of the study, neither servile nor overbearing. "Martial Uncle Liu did her utmost to teach me, but unfortunately, I was born unsuited for it. My meridians are blocked, my constitution is weak, and I can't even gather a sense of Qi. I'm a Martial Dao cripple."
He said "Martial Dao cripple" as casually as if he were commenting on the fine weather.
The air in the study froze.
Zhao De stared at him, as though trying to find even a trace of shame, disappointment, or pretense on his face.
But there was nothing.
Only calm.
After a long while, Zhao De let out a heavy breath. It held disappointment and resignation, but more than either, a weariness he couldn't quite put into words.
He waved a hand and leaned back in his chair.
"Forget it."
"Not becoming a martial artist may not be a bad thing."
"As long as you behave yourself from now on and stop going out and stirring up trouble, I'll be content."
Compared to the magistrate who had flown into a rage a month ago, Zhao De now seemed more like an ordinary father who had completely given up hope for his son.
That works too.
Chen Fan thought to himself.
The lower the other man's expectations, the freer his own life would be.
"I understand," he answered obediently.
"Oh, right, Father." Chen Fan seemed to recall something and mentioned it casually. "On my way back, I came across a merchant caravan that had been robbed in Black Wind Mountain territory."
"They said the bandits from Black Wind Mountain did it. Their people were slashed, and all their goods were stolen."
Zhao De picked up his teacup and blew the froth from the surface.
"I see."
His response was as indifferent as Chen Fan had expected.
"They're just a bunch of mountain bandits who amount to nothing. They can't stir up any great waves."
Clearly, the magistrate hadn't taken the matter to heart.
Chen Fan had accomplished what he set out to do. He had only meant to inform Zhao De; how Zhao De dealt with it was his own business.
"Then I'll take my leave."
"Go on." Zhao De waved him away and picked up his book again, paying him no further attention.
Chen Fan turned and left the study.
Watching his son walk away, Zhao De held his book but couldn't take in a single word.
He had settled down.
He really was far better behaved than before.
But why did he keep feeling that this son of his was becoming more and more of a stranger?
Back at the Listening to the Waves Pavilion.
Everything in the courtyard was just as it had been when he left.
A young maid spotted him and ran over in delighted surprise.
"Young master! You're finally back!"
Chen Fan nodded and sat down on a stone stool in the courtyard.
Soon, two figures emerged, one after the other, from the main room and the side room.
Liu Ruyan came first, still wearing her fiery red silk dress, a seductive smile on her face. She hurried to Chen Fan's side and naturally tried to lean against him.
"Young master, you were gone for over a month. I missed you to death."
Following behind her was Su Qingyu, as timid as ever. Her head was lowered, and she twisted the hem of her clothes, not daring to approach.
Chen Fan ignored the flirtatious look Liu Ruyan gave him and merely glanced around.
His principal wife, Lin Wan'er, hadn't come out.
Just as he'd expected.
"Let's all go inside."
He stood and spoke lazily.
Liu Ruyan and Su Qingyu both froze.
Chen Fan said no more and led the way into the bedroom.
Liu Ruyan immediately understood. She gave Su Qingyu a look that said, "You're on your own," then swayed her hips and followed him inside.
Su Qingyu stood where she was for a while. Finally, biting her lip, she followed them in with small steps.
That day.
Chen Fan didn't leave the bedroom.
Over the next few days, he went completely into vacation mode.
After a month of suppressing his desires on the mountain, he had returned to a haven of feminine charms and naturally had to make up for it twice over.
By day, he gathered his friends and threw lavish banquets at the Drunken Immortal Tower, the largest restaurant in Qinghe County, listening to the flattery of the pack of fair-weather friends around him.
At night, he returned to the residence and took turns spending the night in his wives' rooms.
Liu Ruyan's countless charms.
Su Qingyu's inexperienced compliance.
Even Lin Wan'er, who had always been as cold as ice, went from fiercely resisting Chen Fan's repeated "visits" to bearing them numbly.
Conquering an iceberg like her brought a far more twisted sense of satisfaction than riding Liu Ruyan.
That was Zhao Long's perverse pleasure.
And Chen Fan was inheriting it all perfectly.
Rich food, fine wine, and beautiful women.
Power in his hands and servants in droves.
This life of glittering excess and corrupt indulgence almost made him forget that he had once been the woodcarver who died in a gutter.
Now this is life.
Martial Dao, cultivation, longevity—all of them required arduous effort.
How could any of them compare to the comfort he had now?
As long as he didn't die, he could keep enjoying it forever.
Even if he really did die by accident one day, he could take on another identity and start a new life.
A guaranteed profit, with no chance of loss.
That afternoon, Chen Fan was soaking in a steaming bath.
Liu Ruyan knelt beside him, her delicate hands covered in flower petals and essential oil as she gently massaged his shoulders.
On a small table beside the tub were chilled grapes and fine Nü'er Hong wine.
Liu Ruyan picked up a glistening purple grape, peeled it, and brought it to Chen Fan's lips.
Chen Fan opened his mouth and took it in, giving her delicate finger a gentle suck as he did.
Liu Ruyan giggled dreamily, her body going so soft she seemed about to melt into the water.
"Young master, you're so naughty..."
Before she could finish.
Bang!
Someone violently smashed the courtyard gate open from outside.
The steward came scrambling in, his face covered in sweat and terror.
"Young master! Something terrible has happened!"
Chen Fan stopped what he was doing and slowly swallowed the grape, his brows furrowing slightly.
His pleasant mood had been interrupted.
"What is it? Why are you in such a panic?"
The steward knelt on the ground, his voice trembling.
"Black Wind Mountain! It's the bandits from Black Wind Mountain!"
"They... they came down the mountain at noon today!"
Chen Fan picked up a towel and wiped his mouth.
"So they came down the mountain. How many travelers did they rob?"
"N-no!" The steward was on the verge of tears. "They didn't rob any travelers!"
"They... they heard of your 'great reputation,' young master, and sent word that they're going to take your dog's life and rid the people of a scourge!"
Chen Fan's face instantly stiffened when he heard that.
Fuck!
So they're coming for me?