Chapter 3

To be fair, it wasn’t that Xu Ziming hadn’t taken care of anyone—he’d just never taken care of Xu Yi.

Xu Gan quickly stepped in, “Xu Yi, stop spouting nonsense… When Mother bought clothes for us, you were never left out.”

“And during meals, we always sent someone to call you. You’re the one who never came to the table.”

Xu Yi chuckled, shaking his head. “A dutiful son, aren’t you? Always covering for your dear mother. Afraid she’ll get labeled as heartless and cruel?”

He turned to face the men in front of him. “Minister Xu. My two good brothers… It’s autumn now. If I’d had a thicker coat, maybe I wouldn’t have caught a chill.”

“And even a coat wouldn’t have helped when someone poured water on my bedding, leaving me to sleep in soaked sheets all night. You think anyone could survive that?”

Xu Gan’s expression twisted in disbelief and fury. This wasn’t the timid Xu Yi they were used to—where had this sudden boldness come from?

“Xu Yi! Enough with these wild accusations,” he snapped. “Slandering your father and mother? That’s worth thirty strokes of the cane!”

Xu Yi’s face turned cold. “Your father and mother. What do they have to do with me?”

“Last night, I lay in freezing wet sheets, barely clinging to life. If I hadn’t been lucky, I’d be dead right now.”

His voice rose into a shout, full of rage.

Around them, servants were already eavesdropping from the shadows. Xu Gan, afraid the rumors might hurt his mother’s reputation, quickly changed the subject. “Xu Yi, stop talking nonsense. We’re not here to argue about imaginary grievances—we came about you hitting Xu Xing.”

“He’s your older brother. He’s never treated you unfairly. Why would you lash out like that?”

Xu Yi laughed—sharp and bitter. “Treated me fairly? You mean the beatings? The constant humiliation? Accusing me of theft every other day?”

“I used to be pathetic. I clung to the illusion of family, swallowed every insult, and begged for scraps of affection. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t talk back. I just hoped someone might look at me with a bit of kindness.”

“But last night, when I almost died in that bed, I finally understood…”

“To hell with your so-called family.”

The others stared, wide-eyed. So this was the reason for Xu Yi’s change in demeanor?

Xu Yi suddenly tossed the torch in his hand onto the ground at Xu Ziming’s feet.

“Minister Xu,” he said coldly, “I hit your precious son. I’ll pay for it now. That pile of firewood is soaked in pine oil. Pick up that torch—go on. Light it. Avenge him if you dare!”

Xu Gan and Xu Mao flinched, instinctively backing away.

Was he insane?

For a moment, even Xu Ziming’s stern face cracked, his expression wavering… but then fury took over.

What was this? A threat?

Did this brat think he could get his attention with such madness?

Old Chai dropped to his knees, shaking all over. “Master! Please, don’t be angry… The Fourth Young Master is delirious with fever. He doesn’t know what he’s saying!”

“I’m not delirious,” Xu Yi snapped, eyes burning with manic clarity. “I’ve never seen things more clearly.”

He shouted at Xu Ziming, voice hoarse, “What are you waiting for? DO IT!”

Xu Ziming’s face twisted, cycling from red to pale. His voice trembled with contempt.

“Unfilial wretch. You think this little act will earn you my attention?”

Xu Yi froze.

What the hell? He almost burst out laughing. What kind of father thought like this?

A moment later, the bitterness hit.

So this… this was the kind of father the real Xu Yi had to endure? What did he ever do to deserve this bastard?

Xu Ziming’s voice turned to ice. “The more you act out, the more I loathe you.”

With that, he waved for someone to douse the torch and turned away without another word.

Xu Gan and Xu Mao exchanged gleeful smirks.

They thought Xu Yi had gambled for attention and failed miserably—only to be hated even more.

As they turned to leave, Xu Yi bent down, picked up a piece of firewood, and hurled it with all his strength.

It whooshed past Xu Gan’s ear, barely missing him.

Xu Gan froze in place, his whole body rigid with fear.

“Xu Yi! You lunatic! You—bastard!”

Xu Mao cursed loudly, but when he saw Xu Yi bending to grab another stick, he shrieked and pulled Xu Gan by the arm, bolting out of the room.

Chapter 4 (Partial)

The middle-aged man in elegant robes frowned. “Taste a poem?” What kind of expression was that? Poetry wasn’t food.

This boy didn’t sound like a scholar. He sounded more like a street vendor peddling dumplings.

“Sir, this guy’s a total scammer. Let’s just go home,” sniffed the pale, clean-shaven man beside him—his voice high-pitched and sharp.

Everything about Xu Yi screamed con artist.

Xu Yi narrowed his eyes. “Who are you calling a scammer? Listen, give it a little time—I’ll be a literary legend. My poems? Worth a fortune. Miss the chance now, and you’ll regret it for life!”

The effeminate man scoffed. “You? A literary legend?”

Xu Yi shot him a disdainful look. “Do you even know poetry, pretty boy?”

“Watch your mouth!” The man pointed at him, his fingers trembling with rage.

The middle-aged man chuckled and waved him off, then turned to Xu Yi. “You’re full of confidence. Care to prove it?”

Xu Yi shrugged. “Sure. Real gold doesn’t fear fire.”

The man looked around, then nodded toward the nearby lake, where a few white swans glided gracefully across the water.

“Alright then. Let’s make ‘swans’ the subject. Can you come up with a poem?”

Xu Yi grinned. “Too easy. Listen up... Goose, goose, goose…”

Before he could finish, the shrill voice interrupted with a mocking laugh.

“You call that a poem?”

Xu Yi frowned, holding back the urge to curse. If it wasn’t for the money… He took a deep breath. “Shut up and let me finish. Then you can laugh.”

The middle-aged man raised a hand. “Let him speak.”

“Fine,” muttered the pale man, shooting Xu Yi a glare. “Let’s hear this masterpiece.”

Xu Yi ignored him. He cleared his throat and recited:

“Goose, goose, goose,
Neck curved to the sky in song.
White feathers float on emerald water,
Red feet stir up clear waves.”

The older man’s eyes lit up with interest.

But the pale one scoffed again. “That’s not poetry—it’s just child’s rhymes!”

The man in fine robes, however, nodded. “It’s simple, yes—but catchy. Easy to memorize, vivid, perfect for children learning to read. I like it.”

“How much for it? I’ll buy it.”

Xu Yi’s heart soared. Yes! A sale!

He thought for a moment, then held up one finger. “One tael of silver.”

He honestly had no clue what a poem should cost—but a tael could buy him a warm winter coat. He was freezing.

The man blinked. “One tael?”

Xu Yi panicked a little. “Mister, one tael’s a steal. If you want more poems later, I’ll give you a discount.”

He quickly added, putting on his best pitiful face, “Sir… winter’s coming. Look at me—I’m still in summer clothes. Truth is… my family’s all gone. It’s just me and an old crippled servant. We haven’t eaten in days.”

Right on cue, his stomach growled, loud and pitiful.

The man raised an eyebrow. Then he smiled. “Come. Let’s talk somewhere more comfortable.”

Xu Yi hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see. Don’t worry. A skinny kid like you? Not even worth selling.”

Harsh words—but not wrong.

Xu Yi nodded. “Alright.”

The man led him into Zhuangyuan Tower, a high-end restaurant, and took him to a refined private room on the third floor.

“Sit wherever you like. No need to be formal,” he said casually, then turned to the pale man. “Go order some food and wine.”