Chapter 7: Master Du

In the past few days, the Du household was in utter chaos, with pandemonium reigning both inside and out. After all, the Du family was renowned as a military clan, and the estate maintained a force of personal guards. Nearly all the several hundred household guards had been dispatched with a single aim—to find the ninth young master, Du Long, and bring him home!

Normally, if Du Long disappeared for ten days or half a month, no one would care. But this time, the mobilization was so great because the old master, Du Fengzhong, had returned. In recent years, the old man often traveled far and wide, always for one purpose: to seek a cure for the inexplicable, strange condition afflicting his only grandson, Du Long.

Every year or so, the old master would bring back some folk remedy or another and test it on Du Long. After several fruitless attempts, hope had faded; Du Long had gone from hopeful anticipation to numb resignation.

This time, the old master claimed to have found a method that would surely resolve the problem. After returning to the capital, he heard rumors of his grandson divorcing his wife. Upon arriving at the estate, his first order was to have Du Long found and brought to him.

But not only was there no sign of Du Long within the estate, even after scouring the entire capital, he was nowhere to be found! The old master’s anger finally erupted. His grandson was often absent, and his own son, Du Zhentian, did nothing about it? Furious, the old man gave his son a severe tongue-lashing.

Thus, the Du household guards were dispatched en masse. Even Lingyun Mountain, Du Long’s favorite haunt, was searched several times by dozens of guards, but still, there was no trace of him.

While the old man’s anger simmered, anxiety crept in—what if something ill befell his grandson? The whole estate was thrown into uproar.

On a descending mountain path on Lingyun Mountain, a lone figure swept gracefully down toward the foot of the mountain. It was none other than Du Long, who had just broken through to the second stage of Energy Nurturing and was making his way home to freshen up after days spent training in the secluded valley. The provisions he’d brought were long depleted, and it was time to restock. One couldn’t eat grilled fish every day—too monotonous, and too time-consuming.

It wasn’t long before two of the Du household guards recognized him. It was the dead of winter; few would wander to Lingyun Mountain to brave the biting winds for no reason. As soon as he set foot on the mountain path, he was spotted.

“Young master! The old master is frantic to see you! We’ve been searching for you for two or three days. Please, come with us back to the estate at once!” The two guards, recognizing Du Long, hurried over, excitement plain on their faces.

“Grandfather’s returned?!” Du Long’s body jolted as memories of his past life—of causing his grandfather’s death from anger—flashed through his mind. “Let’s go! We must hurry home!”

One of the guards quickly produced a cylindrical object, pulled a fuse from the bottom, and aimed it at the sky. A flare shot upward with a resounding boom, bursting into a multi-colored firework above.

“Young master! We’ve signaled the brothers on the mountain that we’ve found you; we can head home now!” Having fired the military-issue signal flare, the two guards escorted Du Long down the mountain. At the foot, horses awaited, and dozens of Du family guards had already gathered. Once Du Long was mounted, they spurred their steeds and galloped toward the capital.

...

At the east wing’s parlor doors, Madam Zhou hurried to meet her dust-covered, beloved son. She fixed him with a stern, feigned glare and scolded, “You child, last time you came home, I thought you’d finally matured. But here you are, up to your old tricks! Your grandfather nearly turned the entire capital upside down this time! Why did you run off to Lingyun Mountain again?”

Seeing the reproach on his mother’s lips but the deep affection and worry in her eyes, Du Long felt an inexplicable ache in his heart. Memories of his previous life surged forth, his eyes reddened and glistened with unshed tears.

Forcing himself not to cry, Du Long squeezed out a smile and, clinging to his mother’s arm, responded as naturally as he could, “Mother, I’m sorry to have worried you. Let’s not talk about this now—I must see grandfather first, lest he stays angry.”

“That’s right! Remember, do not upset your grandfather. Or else, I’ll tan your hide myself!” Madam Zhou warned, feigning severity.

Led by his mother, Du Long entered the eastern parlor and saw his grandfather—whom, in his previous life, he had driven to an early grave. The tears he had held back could no longer be restrained and began to flow freely.

“Grandfather...”

Seated in the main chair, the old master had been preparing to deliver a stern scolding to his grandson. But to his astonishment, the rascal threw himself into his arms, weeping uncontrollably. Never in his life had he seen the boy act so sentimental before him, and the old man was instantly at a loss.

“My precious boy! What’s gotten into you? I haven’t even started scolding you yet—why the tears? A man of the Du family bleeds but does not cry. Aren’t you ashamed, being so grown already?” The old master, affected by his grandson’s emotion, found his own eyes reddening.

“Grandfather, I’ve been unfilial, making you worry so. I promise you now, I’ll never anger you again, never do anything to disgrace the Du family!” Du Long, tears streaming down his face, looked into the eyes of the man who had doted on him since childhood. To see someone he had lost to death in another life, now alive and before him, was a feeling beyond words. Regret for his past misdeeds intertwined with the joy and longing of reunion, leaving his heart in turmoil and his tears unending.

Within the parlor, Madam Zhou was already weeping. As a mother, her heart was forever tied to her beloved son—his joys were hers, his sorrows brought her to tears.

Du Zhentian, by contrast, held himself together better. Watching his son and father embrace, he did not cry, but his eyes were bloodshot. He had watched his son spiral into despair because of his condition, suffering silently, powerless to help. Outwardly stern, he bore no deep resentment toward his son—only helplessness and the pain of hope unfulfilled.

No other members of the Du clan were present; disciplining the child was for the immediate family to handle, and there was no need for others to intervene.

...

After the tide of emotion had passed, the old master’s displeasure with his grandson was entirely forgotten. Taking Du Long’s hand before Du Zhentian and his wife, he scrutinized him keenly from head to toe.

Under his grandfather’s intense gaze, Du Long felt awkward, wiping away his tears and protesting, “Grandfather, why are you staring at me? It hasn’t been that long—do you think flowers have blossomed on my face?”

The old man chuckled, scratching his head. “I’m just looking at my precious grandson. You seem different than before! And I’ve heard about your divorce—who would have thought old Zhao’s granddaughter would be so unreliable? If he hadn’t begged me back then, our families would never have been tied together. Since things have come to this, it’s not our fault!”

Rolling his eyes, Du Long, still red-eyed, retorted, “Let’s not talk about that! Grandfather, you didn’t come back to the capital just because of this, did you?”

“See what you’ve done! You come in crying and nearly made me forget the main reason I returned!” The old master flipped his hand, producing a palm-sized box and holding it out. “Look! This time I paid a great price to acquire this treasure. I’d wager there’s a ninety percent chance it will resolve your condition!”

Hearing this, Du Zhentian and his wife’s eyes brightened for a moment, only to return to their usual resignation. This news should have filled them with joy—their son’s affliction was the family’s greatest sorrow. But in recent years, the old master had returned time and again making similar claims, always promising certainty, always followed by disappointment. Hope had long since faded.

“Grandfather, what is it this time that makes you so confident?” Du Long, gradually letting go of his pent-up distress, managed a smile. “You always say that. I hope this time doesn’t end in disappointment again!”

“You rascal!” The old master stroked his white beard, a little embarrassed—he knew he had made such promises before, more for his own encouragement than anyone else’s.

“This time is truly different. What I’ve brought is a rare treasure!” He put on a mysterious air, his earlier awkwardness vanishing.

“What treasure, grandfather? Don’t keep me in suspense—let me see it!” Du Long, whose condition had already been resolved, had no real expectations, but played along, feigning excitement so as not to dampen the old man’s spirits.

“See for yourself!” Without further delay, the old master opened the box right in front of Du Zhentian and his wife. Instantly, a captivating fragrance filled the entire parlor.