Chapter 114: Ambition and Fortuitous Encounters
After New Year’s Eve came the Spring Festival.
The festival of spring.
The spring chill was biting.
Unexpectedly, there was no sunshine today, not to mention the heavy rain.
And then two children suddenly fell ill.
It felt a bit ominous.
Jiang Changtian also felt a bit of self-reproach; he shouldn’t have asked Young Master Zi that question.
Even he could not escape the curiosity and desire to pry into unknown destiny.
When he was small, what he wanted most was to grow up to be a man like Father and Elder Brother.
For a long time afterward, he forgot this dream.
He only wanted to live; he only wanted to raise his children well.
Humble and unaware of it.
Looking back now, he realized he truly could be that humble, and had indeed been that humble.
From the day Fenger almost died, he felt he had been frightened into illness.
Frightened into a state of madness.
He was very worried—terribly worried that Fenger, Mianmian, Sister Yu, and Sister Xia would all leave him—and felt very panicked.
He even inexplicably felt that it would happen.
He would go mad.
He would become a truly lonely soul in this world, living a life worse than death.
From that day on, a burgeoning ambition took root in his heart; he wanted to change everything, he wanted revenge, he wanted his family to live a life of luxury, he wanted his Sister Yu to be able to scold whoever she pleased, he wanted his Fenger to be able to ride his horse through the streets and trample whoever he liked, he wanted his Sister Xia to wear the finest clothes and the most expensive shoes, and he wanted his Mianmian to grow up like a true princess, free from all worries.
However, he was too weak.
Too small and weak.
Scholars are truly weak.
From the death of Guard Wu Liu to the death of Master Liu, he was merely protecting himself.
He had no choice.
But when the Rebels’ Mr. Gang arrived.
It allowed him to see another possibility.
He couldn’t help but ask Young Master Zi, “Will your Father win?”
This child, whose words were like proverbs, actually said no.
What he actually wanted to ask more was, “Will I win?”
But he was a man of deep thoughts.
He dared not express even a fraction of this emotion.
He was afraid of being seen through.
Yet, he still couldn’t resist the temptation to ask who would win.
He thought that the moment he spoke, he might have already lost.
Because Great Marshal Zi certainly would never have asked his own son this question.
It was rumored that Great Marshal Zi was very bold and unconstrained; although he was a leader of the Rebels, he was extremely charismatic in his dealings with others.
It made people feel the urge to die for him the moment they met him.
Even if he were curious, he wouldn’t ask.
He would only act, carrying it through to the very last step.
But Zi Congheng looked at him.
He asked who would win.
Zi Congheng looked at him in surprise.
That gaze was somewhat incredulous, not because he asked who would win.
Jiang Changtian was a deep-thinking and also extremely meticulous person.
Therefore, the person who would win in the end must be related to him—either it was him, or someone like him.
This was what Jiang Changtian had deduced based on Young Master Zi’s expression.
He was somewhat excited.
But at the same time, he warned himself not to be gullible.
Must stay steady, stay steady, stay steady.
As it turned out, that afternoon, Young Master Zi suffered convulsions, a high fever, and lost his soul.
Even Mianmian developed the soul-loss condition.
It gave Jiang Changtian a fright.
He could only bury those treasonous thoughts deep in his heart.
In this world, there are no ghosts or gods.
If there were, he would be willing to become an evil spirit to destroy those gods who hold sinecures and do nothing.
The two children, whose souls had returned to their bodies, lay on the same bed.
Because the village elder said it was not advisable to move them tonight, fearing they might lose their souls again.
Children see many things, so it is very easy for them to get lost.
Jiang Changtian stood guard at the door, with Heita standing beside him.
Heita was a bit confused; he hadn’t expected that skinny old man—an old man he could kill with a single slap—could actually call back the Young Master’s soul?
It was as if the Young Master had been to an unclean place; he had vomited up so much black water.
And Mr. Jiang’s young daughter had actually lost her soul at the same time; he didn’t know if she had gone to the same place as the Young Master’s soul.
He looked at Mr. Jiang, who was sitting beside him, and felt that he had become somewhat mysterious.
That skinny old man was like a soul-calling imp, while Mr. Jiang was like an immortal exiled from heaven; with him at the door, the souls of the Young Master and little Mianmian shouldn’t be lost again, right?
Jiang Mianmian woke up.
She slept for a while longer, then woke up again.
When she woke up again, she saw Little Bug sitting beside her.
Seeing him staring straight at her, she asked in a hoarse, milky, and coquettish voice, looking confused: “Brother Chong, what are you looking at?”
Young Master Zi asked curiously: “Where did you go when you lost your soul? Can you remember?”
Jiang Mianmian looked left and right, then nodded.
“Can you tell me?” Young Master Zi asked.
“I can’t explain it clearly,” Jiang Mianmian said righteously.
“Then tell me slowly; this is a secret between us, and I won’t tell anyone else,” Young Master Zi coaxed.
Jiang Mianmian felt that Little Bug was lying to her.
Hmph.
Even lying to a child.
She rolled her eyes and said: “There was a bird that could carry many people and could fly.”
“And then?” Young Master Zi asked.
“Bang!”
“It broke.”
After saying that, Jiang Mianmian ignored Little Bug.
She began to shout at the top of her lungs: “Mother, Father!”
She shouted righteously.
Young Master Zi reached out and rubbed her head; it was a bit damp from sweat, but he surprisingly didn’t mind.
He wanted to say that when he lost his soul, he had arrived at a magical place.
The birds there were huge and could carry many people and fly, but they weren’t called birds; they were called flying chickens.
He discovered that when he was riding the flying chicken, his illness flared up.
His head ached incessantly, and he was sent to a medical clinic.
Those people dressed in white wanted to cut open his head.
He was terrified and struggled constantly.
But there was a little girl in white who kept holding his hand, saying to him: “It’s okay, it’s okay, you will definitely be fine.”
That girl kept crying and crying.
He hadn’t cried; he was just a bit afraid and resistant, but he didn’t cry.
Yet that girl kept crying.
He heard someone shout: “Jiang Mianmian, what is wrong with you? Stop those tears; if you keep this up, you won’t pass the evaluation.”
He saw his head being pried open, and sure enough, there was something strange growing inside.
That thing was taken out, and they closed his skull back up.
He woke up.
He saw that little girl who had been crying again.
She smiled at him and said: “The surgery was very successful; it was great.”
Yet her tears had not stopped.
She smiled with tears all over her face.
He wanted to help her wipe away her tears.
“Come back, come back.”
“Seek for what is far, search for what is near.”
“Answer when you meet a mountain, respond when you cross a river.”
“Congheng, come back.”
“He’s back, he’s back.”
“Congheng, come back.”
“He’s back, he’s back.”
He woke up.
Opened his eyes.
Saw the unconscious Little Turtle.
Saw the tear stains all over her face.
She had also lost her soul.
At this moment, Zi Congheng looked at Little Turtle, who was babbling and shouting in front of him.
He laughed in his heart, “You might not believe it if I told you, but I think you cured me.”
“I don’t believe it either.”
Little Turtle was shouting so much that her nose was running…
How dirty.
He reached out and wiped the snot from her nose.
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