Chapter 26: Branding
Morning.
Birds were chirping in the trees.
“Chirp, chirp, chirp.”
Surprisingly, the Jiang Family had a proper, hearty breakfast today.
Everyone had a bowl of porridge made from fine grains and meat broth.
It smelled incredibly good.
Jiang Mianmian found the scent irresistible and felt she could drink it too.
However, after taking a small sip, it still felt a bit scratchy on her throat; there seemed to be some grit in the fine grains. Mother’s milk still tasted better.
For once, Father didn’t go to work this morning.
To be honest, since Jiang Mianmian came into this world, this was actually the first time she had seen Father during the day.
Every day, Father would leave before dawn and only return after dark.
But Father didn’t look as good today as he did yesterday; it was as if he had aged ten years overnight.
Looking closely, his hair had turned significantly whiter.
Not that he looked bad; rather, he had gained a sort of weathered, broken beauty.
But who would want their family member to have that kind of “beauty”? It was better to be normal.
Jiang Mianmian thought that since she had the spiritual spring water, it wouldn’t be a big problem.
Even her eldest brother could be brought back to life.
Plus, there was an unexpected surprise.
Previously, she had been worried that the spiritual spring water would be gone once it was used up, so she never dared to empty it.
After using it all up yesterday, the spiritual spring water had actually increased slightly today. Before, it only produced a thin layer, barely covering the bottom of a bowl—about a spoonful’s worth. Now, it seemed a bit higher, enough for at least two spoonfuls.
But there was a side effect.
It seemed that after drinking the spiritual spring water, her elder brother became particularly clingy to her.
Even while lying in bed, he insisted that her elder sister Jiang Yu move her wooden basin over so he could watch her.
You’re a patient yourself, yet you still want to watch me.
Jiang Mianmian felt a bit helpless.
But there was nothing she could do; after all, she was beautiful, cute, and well-behaved.
Lying in the wooden basin, Jiang Mianmian pulled her feet toward her mouth, practicing her stretching.
At the same time, she looked out the window with curiosity.
The house was constructed from a mix of wood, earth, and stone.
There happened to be a wooden window in her brother’s room.
Ancient architecture was quite flexible, showing early signs of advanced craftsmanship.
With wooden boards joined together and a groove at the bottom, it could be slid open.
When pushed open during the day, one could see the trees outside the courtyard, providing a beautiful view.
Jiang Mianmian looked at the trees curiously, wondering where the birds were. She couldn’t see them, only hear their chirping.
“Chirp, chirp, chirp.”
As she watched, she couldn’t help but open her mouth and drool…
It wasn’t because she was greedy; she just hadn’t mastered her nervous system yet, making it hard to keep her mouth closed. Yes, really.
Her elder brother lay on the bed beside her.
He stared at her blankly.
As if he had been watching her for a lifetime.
Jiang Mianmian sighed inwardly, wondering if the side effects of the spiritual spring water were a bit too strong.
Her brother seemed a bit dazed and silly.
At the same time, she felt a bit more pressure.
Without her, this family would fall apart.
Mother liked her, Father liked her, Sister loved kissing her—even her little bottom—and her brother was clingy.
Jiang Mianmian felt she needed to work hard to grow up quickly.
She tried hard to grab her little toes and accidentally put them in her mouth again.
She looked at the birds in the trees, then at her brother lying nearby, and then she saw that little ant again.
It was amazing; it had actually dug a hole in the edge of her wooden basin.
Right now, it was poking its head out of that little hole, wobbling as it looked at her.
Jiang Mianmian actually thought she saw a smile on that ugly little black head…
Probably because she was in a good mood.
After all, her eldest brother was fine now; he had recovered.
And the spiritual spring water had increased.
Jiang Mianmian looked up and saw her brother watching her.
She instinctively flashed a smile.
She didn’t have teeth yet, so her smile was just drool.
Jiang Feng smiled too.
He greedily soaked up the sun.
He greedily felt the breeze.
He greedily watched his lively little sister.
He couldn’t get enough of the sight.
Just then, Father Jiang Changtian and Mother Qin Luoxia entered the room, followed by Sister Jiang Yu.
Jiang Mianmian was scooped up into her sister’s arms.
Then she saw Mother carry in a brazier.
Were they going to jump over the brazier to ward off evil?
Her brother couldn’t even get up yet.
Or was it some kind of ancient ritual?
Jiang Mianmian peered around curiously.
Then she saw Mother heating the spear she had sharpened that day over the brazier.
Jiang Mianmian had a bad feeling. What were they doing?
Then she saw Father cleaning the wound on her brother’s forehead.
It was above his left eye.
The wound still had a faint, putrid smell.
It looked quite gruesome.
Jiang Changtian said, “Fenger, it will hurt a bit. Bite down on this.”
He stuffed a piece of cork into his son’s mouth.
Jiang Feng smiled weakly. “Father, I’m not afraid of pain. Really, not at all.”
He had endured that long night, watching countless tiny insects slowly gnaw at his body, watching himself turn into bone, then into powder. He wasn’t afraid of pain at all, truly.
“Yes, my boy is brave. He’s not afraid of pain,” Jiang Changtian patted his son’s shoulder.
He still stuffed the cork into his mouth.
Then he turned to his wife. “Sister Xia, give me the spear.”
Holding the red-hot iron spear, Qin Luoxia said, “Husband, let me do it. My hands are faster.”
Jiang Changtian shook his head. “You’re stronger. You hold Fenger down.”
Jiang Mianmian watched as Father tied his long hair up into a bun.
Help, how could a man look so good with a bun? With all his features exposed, he looked even more handsome.
Then her eyes were covered by her sister.
She heard a muffled groan.
She struggled hard.
Finally, she saw the scene through the gaps in her sister’s fingers.
Father was actually pressing the red-hot spear onto the wound on her brother’s head.
This action was too cruel.
It was just like torture in a prison.
But she saw that Father’s hand didn’t tremble at all. This man, who usually coughed at the slightest thing and walked as if he were floating, was now holding a red-hot iron spear, cauterizing his own son’s head bit by bit.
Qin Luoxia held down her son’s twitching body.
Jiang Feng said he wasn’t afraid of pain, but he still bit down hard on the cork, letting out muffled groans.
In his heart, he truly didn’t feel pain. He even felt joy, cheerfulness, and enjoyment; this pain made him feel alive.
It was just that his body couldn’t help but twitch.
Jiang Changtian was doing something very cruel, yet his expression was focused and meticulous, and his hand was steady.
Jiang Mianmian felt that Father was like a top-tier surgeon, like a cold, efficient surgical machine.
Because she saw that Father wasn’t just crudely branding the wound with red-hot iron; his movements were incredibly precise as he treated every tiny area, striving to clear away all the rot without damaging the healthy tissue.
Jiang Yu had originally closed her eyes while covering her sister’s.
But hearing the muffled groans, she couldn’t help but open her eyes.
Watching Father’s actions, her tears flowed uncontrollably. It was all her fault. It was because Jiang Wan had given her clothes and she had greedily kept them that her eldest brother was beaten.
Her eldest brother had almost died.
And now he had to suffer like this.
Usually, she’d get burned just by holding a bowl that was slightly too hot.
But her brother’s flesh was being burned until it smelled cooked. *Sob sob.*
Once the iron left the fire, it wouldn’t stay red but turned black, though the temperature remained extremely high.
Jiang Changtian’s hand grew steadier. Aside from a slight tremor on the first touch, each subsequent move was steadier than the last.
He didn’t look like he was branding his own son’s head; he looked like he was painting.
Using the red-hot iron against the flesh, stroke by stroke, the hideous and putrid wound was transformed under his hand into a lifelike image, resembling a Black Datura.
