Chapter 73: The He Family
Chen Yan pondered for a moment… The martial arts techniques of the Old Madam were beyond the realm of being casually imparted.
However, considering that Chu Ke Qing had visited yesterday with gifts and had now brought him such a lucrative opportunity…
Chen Yan decided to make an exception. He recalled the glaring mistakes in the circulation of vital energy within her sect’s technique, noting the most egregious ones he had just discerned. Then, he instructed Chu Ke Qing to bring paper and brush. Without hesitation, he penned a few lines of correction on the sheet before handing it to her.
“I have reviewed your technique and identified the gravest errors. Here, I have made some amendments.”
Chu Ke Qing’s eyes lit up. She clutched the sheet of paper as though it were an invaluable treasure.
“Many thanks, Senior!” she exclaimed, drawing a deep breath before glancing down at the script.
…Uh… Senior’s handwriting is… quite lacking.
The previous prescription he had written bore a refined elegance, the brushstrokes fluid and unrestrained. Yet, the characters on this sheet appeared almost scribbled, crude and uneven.
Perhaps this Senior was a master of calligraphy but disfavored hard-tip pens.
Nonetheless, when she carefully read through the lines and silently recited the revised passages, her eyes gleamed ever brighter!
For twenty years, she had diligently cultivated her sect’s martial arts, yet certain blockages in her vital energy flow had always seemed insurmountable. She had long struggled with the stagnation in her energy circulation, but these few corrections—
Each word struck precisely at the root of her decades-long struggle!
Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke with conviction, “Senior, your kindness shall be forever remembered by the entire Cloud Sect! From this day forth, should you ever have need of me, I, Chu Ke Qing, will answer without hesitation!”
Had they not been inside a moving carriage, she would have knelt and bowed on the spot.
The guidance Chen Yan had offered was no small favor. With these corrections, her future path would be unimpeded, the many years of hardship instantly swept away.
And beyond that—
With the Cloud Sect receiving this revised technique, their entire lineage would be strengthened!
If Senior Chen had demanded her entire fortune in exchange for these mere few lines, she would have readily agreed.
([Such an immense favor… I must find a way to properly repay Senior Chen upon my return!]) she vowed silently.
Chen Yan remained composed, his expression unreadable. “Mm. The technique is settled. Now, recite the Tome of Arts for me.”
“Yes, of course!” Chu Ke Qing replied eagerly, swiftly but carefully folding the precious sheet before tucking it safely away. She hesitated, then took out her phone, snapped a picture of the text, and double-checked that it was preserved before storing the paper in her bag.
Settling herself, she took a deep breath to steady her mind and began reciting from her sect’s Tome of Arts.
The very first line was exactly as expected: ‘Fate turns in cycles, karma repays in kind…’
Chen Yan listened with an impassive expression, his eyes half-closed as though merely resting.
Yet, the deeper he listened, the more tumultuous his thoughts became!
This…
This was none other than his own Cycles of Qi Fortune—but altered beyond recognition.
Throughout her recitation, one in every three lines matched passages from his own teachings. The remaining two-thirds seemed like a reconstruction—a fragmented memory of the original, mixed with personal interpretation.
Someone had clearly read the Cycles of Qi Fortune but had only remembered a third of it. The rest had been devised through their own deductions.
When Chu Ke Qing finally finished, she looked at him expectantly.
Chen Yan remained silent for a moment before asking, “Who authored this Tome of Arts?”
Chu Ke Qing hesitated before answering cautiously, “It was created by our sect’s Ancestor.”
There was no doubt about it—
That so-called Ancestor had studied the Cycles of Qi Fortune!
The only question was—
Did this have any connection to the Old Madam?
However, this time, Chen Yan chose not to revise or correct the Tome of Arts.
He had been willing to refine their flawed martial arts technique because it did not encroach upon his own knowledge. But this Tome of Arts…
It was directly derived from the Cycles of Qi Fortune!
If he were to correct it, he might as well hand them a complete version of the original. That was something he would never do so lightly.
After a brief pause, he said calmly, “This text involves many intricacies. I will need time to study it further before making any conclusions.”
Chu Ke Qing was momentarily disappointed, but she quickly suppressed it. She had already gained immense knowledge from this meeting—
One must not be too greedy.
Their sect’s teachings themselves warned: Fate turns in cycles, karma repays in kind.
Receiving such enlightenment from Senior Chen was already a great stroke of fortune. To ask for more would be to overstep one’s bounds.
—
Time passed swiftly as they delved into their exchange of martial knowledge. Three hours had flown by in an instant.
As their car exited the highway, slowing at the toll booth, it came to a gentle halt.
Ahead, another vehicle had been parked by the roadside. A man stood beside it, raising a hand in greeting.
The female assistant smoothly maneuvered their car toward the shoulder. The man quickly approached.
He was dressed in a well-tailored suit, appearing to be in his early thirties, of average build with sharp yet unremarkable features. His presence, however, exuded an unshakable composure.
The woman in the passenger seat lowered the window, revealing her face to the man outside. Chu Ke Qing glanced at him, nodding slightly.
“Assistant Zhao.”
“Elder Zi!” Assistant Zhao returned the nod, his tone courteous yet firm. “Chairman He sent me to escort you. He awaits your arrival at the old ancestral home in the countryside.”
Chu Ke Qing inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Very well. Lead the way.”
The window slid shut, and Assistant Zhao swiftly returned to the front vehicle. Moments later, the convoy of two cars rumbled to life, descending from the provincial highway onto the winding roads that led into the rural lands.
The old home of He Jian Bo, known in the world of commerce as Boss He, lay deep in the countryside.
Beyond the high-speed expressway, the journey continued on provincial roads before merging onto narrower, less-traveled paths. They passed through a small county town, then a township, before finally entering the remote village lands. Over an hour had slipped by; the afternoon sun had climbed past its zenith, casting long shadows over the land. The time was now just past one.
The cars rolled to a slow stop near a serene countryside scene. A small stream meandered alongside the road, its clear waters shimmering beneath the golden light. A modest concrete bridge stretched across it, no longer than ten meters, just wide enough to accommodate a single vehicle at a time. Beyond the bridge lay He Village.
The village was neither vast nor bustling. The roadside was lined with self-built homes, a mix of new and old. Despite its humble scale, the roads were unexpectedly well-maintained, their surfaces smooth and level. Though narrow, they allowed two vehicles to pass side by side with ease. The road edges were tamped flat, a testament to recent improvements.
“This is He Village, Chairman He’s ancestral home,” Chu Ke Qing explained to Chen Yan, who sat beside her. “Most of the villagers here bear the surname He, and those who don’t are likely related by blood or marriage. Ever since Chairman He rose to prominence, he has not forgotten his roots. The roads here—he personally funded their construction.”
Chen Yan merely hummed in response, his gaze drifting beyond the window.
The rustic simplicity of the village scene unfurled before him—the close-packed homes, the occasional wandering hound, and the chickens pecking leisurely at the roadside. Families had planted green onions, garlic, and chives in their courtyards, their fragrance lingering in the air.
A strange sense of familiarity took root in Chen Yan’s heart. [It feels just like home…] He had lived for many years with the Old Madam in a place just like this. The nostalgia was almost tangible.
The He family estate stood as the grandest structure in the village, its presence casting a long shadow over the humble dwellings nearby.
Unlike the common village homes with their thin walls and modest construction, this residence carried an unmistakable air of authority. Built in the Hui-style, it boasted black-tiled roofs and dark gray bricks. Though only two stories tall, the estate was expansive, encircled by a formidable courtyard. The grounds alone spanned three to four acres, dwarfing the neighboring properties.
Luxury vehicles lined the inner courtyard—two sleek black sedans already parked when they arrived. As their convoy entered, the total number of cars reached four, yet the vast courtyard absorbed them effortlessly. Along the perimeter stood a row of side chambers, likely used for storage or other household purposes.
A serene pond reflected the sky, and beside it stood a finely crafted pavilion. A trellis adorned with grapevines stretched over part of the yard, offering dappled shade. Two large, well-groomed shepherd dogs lay sprawled in the warmth, their coats sleek and their eyes half-lidded in contentment. As the cars rolled in, they stirred, stretching lazily before pacing toward the newcomers for a brief inspection.
The grand hall doors stood wide open, revealing a dignified interior.
As Chu Ke Qing and Chen Yan stepped out of the vehicle, their eyes met the solemn gaze of a man standing at the entrance. His expression was grave, his brows carrying the weight of unspoken troubles.
Chu Ke Qing whispered a quick word to Chen Yan before striding forward.
“Chairman He, greetings.”
The man exhaled slowly, extending his hand. “Master Chu, I must trouble you this time.”
His words were carefully chosen. Unlike most, he refrained from addressing her as “Elder Zi,” a subtle indication of his own standing.
Behind Chu Ke Qing, Chen Yan observed the man with keen interest.
Of medium build, He Jian Bo exuded strength beneath his tailored attire. Unlike many men his age who succumbed to excess and neglect, he remained trim and firm, his physique honed through discipline. Though fatigue creased the edges of his face, his complexion remained robust, his presence unwavering.
His years should have neared fifty, yet his rich black hair and smooth skin belied his age. The traces of time had been kind to him, perhaps softened by wealth and privilege, making him appear a decade younger.
His gaze carried the weight of a man accustomed to command, his eyes sharp with the authority of one who wields power.
As Chen Yan studied him, his attention flicked to the jade plaque that hung around the man’s neck.
The carving was unmistakable—a figure of Guanyin, the Bodhisattva of Mercy.
[Men wear Guanyin, women wear Buddha…]
The emerald sheen of the jade was exquisite, clearly a piece of the highest quality. Yet what truly intrigued Chen Yan was the faint pulse of energy emanating from it. Though subtle, he could sense it—a whisper of yuan qi, lingering in the air.
Chairman He exchanged only a nod of acknowledgment toward Chen Yan, his focus remaining on Chu Ke Qing.
The introductions were brief—Chu Ke Qing merely stated that Chen Yan was a young disciple from her sect. This, too, had been decided upon during their journey.
Chen Yan’s youthful face made it impossible to introduce him as any sort of elder or master. Such a claim would only invite unnecessary questions, wasting precious time. Best to keep things simple.
With formalities complete, the meeting was about to begin.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation