Chapter 101: A Family, Neat and Tidy
Jiang Changtian returned to his seat.
He wiped the sword clean, using his own clothes.
He did not know where Mr. Gang had gotten the white cloth.
He had no choice but to lift his robe to wipe it.
He wiped it slowly because his hands were shaking, but he wiped it very clean.
He did not know that his action of lifting his robe to wipe the sword had almost been etched into the dreams of every woman present.
He returned the sword to Gong Qichi, clasped his hands, and said, “My apologies, I have taken up everyone’s time dealing with a small family matter. Please excuse the spectacle.”
Who would dare to laugh?
Gong Qichi took the sword.
At this moment, he suddenly remembered what Young Master Zi had said: “He is sick, and quite severely so—worse than me.”
Brother Jiang was indeed sick; he had been quite startled just now.
He had been genuinely worried that he would slaughter that Old Madam with one sword strike, but they could not kill Old Madam Jiang and the others; they had received instructions upon arrival.
But what could he do? Gong Qichi liked Brother Jiang’s character even more now.
Jiang Changtian sat down.
He seemed to want to hug his wife.
He reached out only to realize they were in public.
Thus, Jiang Mianmian was tucked into Father’s arms.
It looked as if he had reached out to hold the child.
Jiang Mianmian fell into Father’s arms and felt Father’s body trembling.
Father was far from as calm and composed as he appeared.
Father’s arms held her tightly.
Jiang Mianmian hated that her arms were too short; she wanted to hug Father but could not.
She could only extend her small, short hands and gently pat Father.
However, Father passed her to her eldest brother.
Jiang Yu sat to the side, shedding large tears, stuffing food into her mouth as she cried, eating, hiccupping, and weeping all at once.
Her Father was too pitiful.
Jiang Yu suddenly wailed aloud.
Her crying drowned out the wailing of Jiang Huaisheng.
Her crying drowned out the sound of Jiang Wan anxiously calling for someone to treat her Father’s wounds over there.
Everyone:…
The sound of this crying made Zi Ganjiang’s head throb.
Originally, when that young lady from a noble family had cast a pleading glance at him, he had almost inexplicably been about to walk over.
But this crying had sobered him up.
If he were to walk over to help now, Mr. Gang would surely torment him to death later.
At first, Zi Ganjiang had thought the man surnamed Jiang was just a pretty-faced gigolo.
With his looks, combined with his ability to say a few pleasant words, it was easy to curry favor with people.
Yet he had never expected that this man, who looked like a weak scholar, would actually use their influence on this very occasion to resolve his own affairs.
Zi Ganjiang felt a measure of respect in his heart.
He was a martial man, a rough man, who valued loyalty.
But he also despised those who were unfilial and lacked brotherly love.
He had been chosen by his foster Father also because his foster Father praised him for his filial piety.
Filial piety and brotherly respect were the foundations of being a person.
If a person were called unfilial or lacking in brotherly love, even a stray dog on the roadside could bark at him, and rightfully so.
From now on, he had removed the label of being unfilial and lacking in brotherly love.
At the very least, he could hold his head high and live as a decent person.
His children would not be the descendants of someone unfilial or lacking in brotherly love, and they would be able to marry normally.
Jiang Changtian picked up a spoon and scooped a spoonful of soup to drink.
In truth, the hand he extended to hold the spoon was shaking, and everyone saw that he was shaking.
Yet no one laughed.
He reached out with his chopsticks again, picked up a piece of meat, took a bite, and then took another.
He gagged.
Nevertheless, he still ate it in large mouthfuls.
Every time he ate meat, he habitually felt like vomiting.
Because Aunt Yao always said his body was weak and he had to go hungry for a few meals before he could eat, and by the time he was hungry enough to sit at the table, he was always presented with greasy meat.
If he did not eat it, his mother would pull a long face, become unhappy, and say he was being picky again, and his elder brother would also lecture him not to be a picky eater.
To make his mother happy and his brother satisfied, he would eat it in large mouthfuls.
Oh, she was not his mother. And he was not his brother.
Then who was his mother?
Jiang Changtian ate the meat.
He did not dare to ask.
Old Madam Jiang would rather die than say, but he knew Old Madam Jiang had not lied to him, because he knew how much Old Madam Jiang cared about her health and how much she feared death.
She had said that his birth mother did not want him and had wanted to kill him.
Jiang Changtian raised his cup again, and this time he poured a cup of wine into it.
“Brother Yehang, today is the happiest day of Changtian’s life. First, I have met Brother Yehang and gained a confidant, and second, I have recognized myself. Bottoms up!”
Gong Qichi was deeply moved. He looked at Brother Jiang, and for reasons unknown, his eyes teared up.
He drank the wine in his cup in one gulp.
He saw Brother Jiang also drink his wine in one gulp.
Jiang Changtian drank until he was streaming with tears; the wine was so spicy, so spicy. With a thud, he fell forward.
His long, black hair spread out like a waterfall.
Qin Luoxia stood up.
She clasped her hands to the others and said, “My apologies, my husband can only handle one cup of wine. I will take him back now.”
In front of everyone, she helped her husband up and carried him onto her back.
Qin Luoxia carried her husband on her back.
Jiang Yu followed, and Jiang Feng held his sister, clasping his hands to the others.
The family of five left just like that.
The wind and snow outside were heavy.
Gong Qichi quickly ordered his guards to escort them.
Some in the crowd actually wanted to shout, asking how they could leave just like that without leaving any hostages.
But they did not dare to shout.
Jiang Huaisheng clutched his face and wailed, watching with resentment as his younger brother’s family left just like that.
Young Master Zi had not spoken the entire time, but everyone was used to it; Young Master Zi rarely spoke anyway.
He had actually wanted to speak.
However, he had repeatedly felt suppressed and had no opportunity to do so.
His seat was by the window, and he could turn his head to see the long street.
There was no one on the street, and it was very quiet.
The dirty, messy street that had been trampled on was covered in snow.
It was very clean and very white.
The group walked out of the restaurant and slowly stepped onto it.
On the white snow, there was an extra set of footprints.
He saw that the woman was carrying her husband on her back, her footsteps very steady and very straight.
The deepest and straightest footprints in the snow were the ones left by that woman.
He saw that Little Turtle’s sister was still crying, sobbing, and holding a food box in her hand.
She did not know who had stuffed it into her hand when she left.
He saw Little Turtle’s brother holding her.
Little Turtle’s head was resting on her brother’s shoulder.
She seemed to have looked up.
Little Turtle seemed to have seen him when she looked up.
Zi Congheng stared fixedly as they walked away.
He suddenly felt very envious of Little Turtle; it was wonderful, her family was so complete.
Although it was asymmetrical, it was complete.
The extra set of footprints on the snow was neat and tidy.
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