Chapter 6: Xuejiaao

With the little episode involving Fang Quan, no one dared to underestimate Xiao Ziguang anymore. The rest of the wedding proceeded smoothly. Although the atmosphere remained somewhat strange, tinged with a hint of awkwardness, no one dared to point fingers at Xiao Ziguang or gossip behind his back.

Fang Quan lay on the ground, his face pale as ash, a few chicken feathers stuck to his lips—the hen had died on the spot! All he felt now was humiliation, an overwhelming sense of disgrace. He wished he could crawl into a crack in the earth, but the wedding was far from over, and he dared not leave.

Xue Wen was ecstatic. She collected all the wedding gifts and packed away the gold and silver jewelry. Half an hour ago, she was a nobody without even five hundred yuan to her name; now she was a wealthy young woman with assets exceeding ten million. She accepted the money without a trace of guilt, even feeling a secret thrill, fearing it was all a dream that would shatter upon waking. But it was real.

The tedious wedding rituals finally concluded at half past twelve. As the master of ceremonies invited everyone to raise their glasses to toast the newlyweds and prepare for the banquet, Xiao Ziguang took Xue Wen and Lele and quietly exited.

If the wedding going ahead on schedule merely postponed the immediate crisis, a far greater challenge awaited them.

Marrying into the Xue family did not mean the troubles were over—in fact, they had only just begun. Being a son-in-law of the Xue family was not only a title of honor but also a death warrant. If Xiao Ziguang could not firmly establish himself in the Xue clan, given the nature of powerful aristocratic families, the Xues would not hesitate to leave their daughter a widow.

Moreover, Xue Wen was far from favored; the main branch of the family was suppressed as if they were mere mascots, and Xiao Ziguang, as the son-in-law, was like a rootless floating weed—one strong wave, and he would sink.

So a tough battle still lay ahead. Xiao Ziguang did not hope to win the favor of the Xue family’s second master; he only sought to gain the approval of Xue Wen’s father—the patriarch of the main branch. Holding onto that support long enough to survive and gradually develop was enough.

After all, Xiao Ziguang was a man reborn. Given enough time and the advantage of foresight, he believed he could rise again, perhaps even become a new power among the great families.

Thus, paying respects to his father-in-law and winning his favor was an urgent and necessary task.

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In the year 2000, Tianhai was nowhere near as prosperous as in later years. Although new districts had expanded southward, most buildings were under fifteen stories, lacking the soaring thirty-three-story skyscrapers, stadiums, or six-lane dual carriageways that would come later.

The main roads remained four lanes wide, and the streets were mostly populated by yellow minibuses, commonly known as “mian” by the locals.

Therefore, a convoy of black Mercedes cars stood out sharply, especially as they cruised along Tianhai’s main road, drawing the attention of many.

A little reflection made it clear: today was the day the Xue family was bringing in a son-in-law, and the men inside the car were surely the new in-laws. People could not be compared fairly—some were born to toil endlessly just to glimpse Rome, others were born inside it, and some, though born to toil, could seize the opportunity of marriage to enter Rome.

If there was a chance to shortcut twenty years of struggle without effort, most would choose it.

The convoy headed north, swiftly reaching Tianhai’s old city.

Tianhai’s terrain sloped from west to east, with mountains to the south and plains to the north—the location of the old city. A little further north lay Xueji’ao, the Xue family’s stronghold.

The old patriarch, Xue Laoye, had once roamed the underworld in his youth and was skilled in Hongquan martial arts, renowned across the neighboring villages. Later, during the Japanese invasion, he enlisted and fought bravely, becoming a regimental commander before retiring to his hometown.

Starting as a grain station manager, he climbed the ranks until stepping down as Tianhai’s city secretary and a provincial committee member of Hanzhong.

Having lived through wartime, Xue Laoye married three times. Though his three sons shared the same father, each had a different mother.

With his official position back home and numerous disciples and relatives spread everywhere, he used his connections to promote family members—after all, one pen could not write two “Xue” characters.

Though retired, Xue Laoye still wielded considerable influence. The Xue family was recognized as the top aristocratic clan in Tianhai, with power spanning both the legitimate and underworld spheres, involved in factories, mines, schools, and transportation.

As a joke, some said that when Xue Laoye stomped his foot, all of Tianhai trembled. For example, the current mayor of Tianhai had once served as Xue Laoye’s secretary for four years.

Whenever Xue Laoye spoke, the mayor had no choice but to listen.

Xueji’ao, as Xue Laoye’s birthplace, was treated as the family’s headquarters. Over the years, it had become their private domain—more bluntly, their kingdom.

The Xue family’s ancestral mansion covered nearly ten acres. Once the residence of a warlord from the Republic era, it was crafted with exquisite materials in traditional style, with carved beams and painted rafters.

The Tianhai cultural relics department had once listed it as a protected historical site, but for some reason, it eventually entered the market and was bought by Xue Laoye.

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The Mercedes came to a smooth stop at the gate of the Xue family’s old mansion. Through the window, Xiao Ziguang carefully studied the entrance. Truly befitting a noble household, the steps were made of bluestone, seven layers in all, flanked by balustrades carved from white marble.

In front of the antique gate stood two stone lions, each holding an embroidered ball, their teeth sharp and menacing. Beyond them was a vermilion door set with brass studs—five rows of five, twenty-five in total. Xue Laoye was a traditional man who never shied away from displaying his official status.

In his previous life, Xiao Ziguang had been here before, but after having his leg broken and confined to a wheelchair, he had been pushed through the motions like a puppet, barely conscious.

This time, having avoided that tragedy, he finally had the chance to truly see the grandeur of the Xue family mansion. Even just the gate alone was worthy of Tianhai’s foremost aristocratic clan.

Fang Quan, having lost all his temper, finally acknowledged his proper place and respectfully said to Xiao Ziguang, “Son-in-law, please follow me. The three elders are waiting for you in the ancestral hall to serve tea.”

The aristocracy had many rules, especially regarding etiquette. Even in his last life, though confined to a wheelchair and broken, Xiao Ziguang never neglected any required courtesy.

Xue Wen was somewhat nervous, whispering, “Our dad is the eldest brother, but his eyesight is poor. The second uncle manages the family and is quite clever. The third uncle looks young but is actually very ruthless...”

As they neared the ancestral hall, she summed up, “Smile often, bow a lot, and speak little.”

Xiao Ziguang nodded slowly, withholding judgment.

Xue Wen’s advice was well-meant—when meeting strangers for the first time, it was wise to observe more and speak less before understanding their temperaments.

But Xiao Ziguang was a man reborn. Having dealt extensively with these three old men in his previous life, he knew their natures well and understood exactly how to act.

Moreover, the landowner had no surplus grain. The aristocratic Xue family certainly did not tolerate idlers. Following Xue Wen’s strategy of smiling more and speaking less would only leave him completely passive.