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墨書 Inktalez
Zhao Yang bid farewell to Li San and ran towards the town's market without looking back. After receiving a few slaps from his master, Sun Wukong, his meridians had been unexpectedly reorganized, and his physique was considerably stronger than before.
However, what puzzled him was that he still did not feel any recovery in his cultivation. Although he had previously reached the third layer of the Qi Refinement Stage, he now found himself at the first layer, with no progress at all. Yet, he felt that the old him would never have been able to defeat his current self. In fact, any disciple at the third layer of the Qi Refinement Stage would not stand a chance against him. Could it be that a few slaps from his master had such an effect?
If that were the case, would he become a masochist in the future?
Shaking his head at this thought, Zhao Yang realized that the priority was to find out what had happened to his parents. Although he had only been in this world for a short time and could technically consider his parents as only half of his biological family, in his heart, they were his true parents—more cherished than those from another world.
He had endured enough cold stares from others; thus, he held a singular view of family: those who treated him well were family, while anyone who wished him harm, even if related by blood, could be eliminated—just like the uncles from the Zhao Family. He still remembered the hatred in the eyes of this body’s original owner before death towards everyone who had forced him into despair. He had promised to take revenge; some grudges required blood to settle.
By the time Zhao Yang reached the market, the moon hung in the sky, dotted with stars. It reminded him of his previous life when he walked alone through countless nights searching for jobs and doing part-time work, feeling lost and without companionship.
After inquiring at a Steamed Bun Shop nearby, Zhao Yang quickly learned where the Rice Shop was located. However, upon arriving at its entrance, he saw a large crowd gathered in a circle blocking the road. A bad premonition washed over him; years of misfortune in both lives told him that he was someone easily targeted by others. He couldn't help but think negatively while praying that nothing terrible would happen to his parents.
Despite being mentally prepared, when he saw his father lying at the entrance of the Rice Shop with a bleeding head and bound by ropes, while his mother knelt beside him pleading for their father’s release, all of Zhao Yang's composure and cultivation crumbled in an instant. Anger and heartache surged within him as a cruel light flickered in his eyes. Unbeknownst to him, True Qi within his Dantian began swirling violently through his meridians. As he clenched his fists tightly, an invisible force pushed back the surrounding crowd.
Typically, a normal child witnessing their parents being bullied would rush forward recklessly to confront their tormentors. But Zhao Yang fought hard to restrain himself; he was neither cowardly nor afraid. He believed that with his current strength, ordinary people were no match for him.
Seeing how others treated his parents solidified his resolve: regardless of right or wrong, those who harmed them would face one inevitable fate—death. Their entire family would perish without exception.
From the discussions among the onlookers, Zhao Yang learned that his father had been beaten for allegedly stealing white rice. He knew his father would never do such a thing; perhaps there was indeed less rice at the Rice Shop or perhaps not—but he was certain that his father had been framed. Though they were poor, they were not destitute enough to resort to stealing rice. He observed how the Rice Shop Owner and Manager looked down on them as if they were already dead.
Mother He Qing felt a whirlwind of emotions as she saw her son standing before them. No parent wishes to appear so helpless in front of their child, and she feared he had also been bullied. She cried out, "Zhao Yang, what are you doing here? Hurry home."
Zhao Yang calmly looked at his mother without answering. He gently helped her up from the ground and then pushed aside the two guards standing next to his father to assist him as well.
"Hey, it seems like you're the son of these two scoundrels?" sneered the rotund Rice Shop Owner.
"Are you the Rice Shop Owner?" Zhao Yang asked calmly.
"Indeed, I am," the Rice Shop Owner replied proudly. "What’s wrong? If a man can’t come, should a woman come instead? If a woman can’t come, should a child come?"
"Whether it’s appropriate or not is too early to say for the shopkeeper. I’ve gathered some information about today’s events. Regardless of whether my father stole rice or not, he was tied up and beaten to a pulp by you all. My mother was publicly humiliated by your words. If I don’t seek justice for this as a son, that would be unfilial. But if I do seek justice, taking on dozens of you might leave me either dead or crippled."
"Hmph, looks like you’re somewhat sensible," interrupted the thin-faced Manager before Zhao Yang could finish.
"I take it this is Liu Manager?" Zhao Yang noticed a guard sneaking out from inside, whispering to the thin-faced Manager, and he recognized the lip movements as referring to "Liu Manager."
"That’s right, I am Liu Manager," he said, tilting his head and mimicking the tone of the Rice Shop Owner.
"Since that’s the case, I, Zhao Yang, would like to make a bet with Liu Manager in front of everyone."
"Haha, how amusing! A poor kid who hasn’t even grown his first hair wants to bet with me? Go ahead and tell me what you want to wager; you’ve certainly made both me and the shopkeeper laugh. I’ll reward you handsomely!"
"I bet that there are still people in this world who dare to write the words 'justice' and that Liu Manager won’t see tomorrow's sun."
As soon as the words left his mouth, everyone around burst into laughter. Although the implication of his statement was that he wanted to kill, hearing it from a child who looked no older than a few years was simply absurd.
Manager Liu and the Rice Shop Owner laughed heartily, with the Rice Shop Owner finding it amusing and playing along, "You want to bet that it won't rain and the sun won't shine? Since we're betting, we need to have stakes. What do you want if you win, and what will happen if you lose?"
"If I win, I want one hundred bags of rice from the Rice Shop. If I lose, I'll let the shopkeeper decide my fate. But there's one condition: we must sign a contract and all three of us need to leave our fingerprints. No backing out later by claiming I stole or robbed!"
"Alright, alright," the Rice Shop Owner chuckled happily. "We'll write it down and leave our fingerprints. One hundred bags of rice for a good laugh! But don't say I didn't warn you; our Zhao County hasn't seen a drop of rain in three months! If you try to back out later, don't blame me for bringing people to your house to drag you out and skin you alive!"
"It's a deal." Zhao Yang said before turning to walk towards his parents. He Qing was already in shock; she knew her son was precocious, but she never imagined he would be so bold. If it weren't for Zhao Tianlang holding her back, she would have rushed over to bow and apologize to the Rice Shop Owner. Zhao Tianlang held her back because he belonged to a cultivation family where anything was possible. He understood that his son's initial calmness was merely restraint. Although he knew Zhao Yang had lost his cultivation, he chose to believe in his son's composure since waking up and his steady demeanor upon arriving here.
Zhao Yang supported his parents as they walked home under the moonlight, his expression serious. He knew that from this moment on, he had embarked on a path of violence.
"Mom, Dad, I hunted a wild boar in the back mountain today. I asked Uncle Li San next door to help skin and cook it, so we can enjoy a delicious meal when we get home. You both should rest at home for the next few days; there's no need to go anywhere. Tomorrow, I'll gather some villagers to come to the Rice Shop for white rice."
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