Chapter 3

It wasn't a birthmark but rather a buildup of poison. Recalling his past, he realized that he had been fed a rare herb as a baby, likely causing this poisoning. To cultivate, he needed to detoxify his body with specific medicinal herbs.

When Jing came to collect the porridge bowl, Zhao Yang informed her about his need for herbs. Fortunately, the old Zhao Yang had been an avid reader, delving into various subjects, including medicine and herbs. So Jing didn't think much of his request.

"Young master, simply write down the herbs you require, and I will arrange for someone to obtain them from the medicine pavilion," Jing suggested as she left the room. Zhao Yang walked over to the corner table and began writing a comprehensive list of the required herbs. Writing with a brush came naturally to him, likely due to his early teachings from Grandpa Ming. Once he finished writing, he allowed the ink to dry on the paper.

When Jing returned to the room, Zhao Yang handed her the piece of paper without looking at it. She promptly left to relay the orders. Once again, Zhao Yang found himself alone in the room, contemplating the path he would now tread.

While waiting for the herbs, Zhao Yang took out another piece of paper and began writing. The contents remained a secret known only to him. Around lunchtime, the long-awaited herbs finally arrived. Eager not to waste any more time, Zhao Yang headed straight to the kitchen. Using the mortar, he ground the herbs into a fine paste, which took on a vibrant green color. Zhao Yang instructed Jing to prepare a hot bath and requested not to be disturbed once he entered. Jing, as always, complied with his wishes.

With the bath ready, Jing left the room, ensuring that no one would disturb Zhao Yang. Stripping himself completely, Zhao Yang poured the herbal paste into the bath and immersed himself. The soothing mixture seeped into his pores, bringing a sense of relaxation he hadn't experienced before. Unbeknownst to him, Zhao Yang drifted into a deep slumber. When he awoke, night had fallen, and the once greenish bathwater had turned clear.

To his excitement, Zhao Yang noticed that the black spot on his body had vanished. Not bothering to dry himself thoroughly, he quickly made his way to bed, eager to commence his cultivation. As he started cultivating, Zhao Yang felt an energetic surge entering his body through his pores. Multicolored particles flowed within him, overwhelming him with their presence. "So, this is how cultivation feels," he thought. However, in this world, there are no fixed ranks. The strength of a cultivator is determined by their dedication and consistency.

Time passed unnoticed as Zhao Yang immersed himself in his cultivation. It was only when a knock sounded on the door that he opened his eyes, realizing that morning had arrived. Jing entered the room, holding a bowl of porridge. Zhao Yang looked at it with disdain.

"Porridge again? Is there no meat?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Young master, you're still recovering from your injury. It's best to avoid heavy food for now, but if you insist, we can consider it starting next week," Jing replied, feigning obliviousness to Zhao Yang's displeasure.

"Jing, I'm fully healed. If you don't believe me, see for yourself. I want meat for lunch," Zhao Yang asserted, convincing Jing of his well-being. She cautiously checked his abdomen and was surprised to find the injury practically healed. She couldn't help but look at Zhao Yang in astonishment.

"The herbs I used yesterday aided in my recovery. Don't worry. From now on, please provide me with plenty of meat, alright?" Zhao Yang reassured Jing of his condition.

A week flew by in the blink of an eye. During this time, Zhao Yang diligently cultivated day and night, complementing his practice with exercise and nourishing meals. It was evident that he now appeared more like a fifteen-year-old. Over the past seven days, he had gained weight and grew a few inches taller, likely a result of his consistent cultivation. Feeling light and comfortable throughout his entire body, Zhao Yang decided that today he would celebrate both his hard work and another special occasion.

Excitement and nervousness filled Zhao Yang as he anticipated the return of his older brother, Zhao Yan, and his grandfather, General Zhao. Although he had never met them, he felt a sense of familiarity due to his few memories of the old Zhao Yang. However, the scarcity of those memories made him apprehensive about building a close relationship with them.

In his past life as Ming Chen, Zhao Yang had been particularly close to his grandfather. "Don't all grandfathers enjoy tea? Should I prepare a special tea for their arrival?" he pondered. As for his brother, he tried not to dwell on the pain they had inflicted on him, but he couldn't help harboring some trust issues. Yet, he reminded himself not to hastily judge Zhao Yan. After all, not everyone was as selfish as his brothers. Leaving these thoughts behind, Zhao Yang made his way to the kitchen to prepare the tea. His actions no longer surprised anyone in the household, as he was known for his various skills—brewing tea, painting, writing poems, needlework, and, more recently, working with medicine and herbs.

Just as Zhao Yang finished brewing the tea, the head butler burst into the kitchen, announcing the arrival of the general and captain's horses, mere minutes away. Instructing a maid to swiftly take the tea and snacks to the main hall, Zhao Yang hurried to the front gate to greet his older brother and grandfather.

An hour passed as Zhao Yang nervously waited at the front gate. He couldn't help but glare at the head butler, growing increasingly impatient. "A few minutes, my ass. Just wait until I get my hands on you," he thought, contemplating confronting the head butler. Suddenly, the bustling sounds grew louder, capturing Zhao Yang's attention. He noticed two men on white horses—one elderly, possibly in his 60s, and the other in his mid-20s. Strikingly, the two men looked almost identical, or perhaps identical to him.

As Zhao Yang's gaze locked onto them, he saw the tension in their faces gradually dissipate, a subtle detail that others might have missed. Slowly, he began walking toward the two men as they dismounted their horses.

"Grandfather, big brother," Zhao Yang's voice trembled, tears welling in his eyes. The elderly man reached out his hands, pulling Zhao Yang into a tight embrace.

"Yang-er, my precious little grandson," General Zhao choked out, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry," were the only words the old man uttered, but Zhao Yang understood their significance. The old man had left him all alone at the age of five and had been absent for ten years. Although the old Zhao Yang would have made a fuss about it, he, as the current Zhao Yang, knew that sometimes work had to take priority, especially when it involved the lives of many people.

"I forgive you, grandfather. It wasn't your fault anyway. You had to protect the innocent people of this kingdom," Zhao Yang said, his embrace with his grandfather remaining tight. Lost in their own world, they were unaware of the jealous gaze fixed upon them. However, the old general's happiness and relaxation were abruptly interrupted when someone forcefully pulled him away from Zhao Yang's embrace. The moment he laid eyes on the person, he couldn't help but give a glare filled with disdain.

"Grandfather, you can't hog Yang-er all to yourself," Zhao Yan asserted, justifying his actions. Moving his grandfather aside, Zhao Yan, too, enveloped Zhao Yang in a warm bear hug.

"Little Yang, you've grown so much. I missed you dearly," Zhao Yan said with a gentle expression, as if beholding something precious.

"I missed you too, brother," Zhao Yang laughed. These two were considered among the strongest individuals in the Mu Kingdom, yet they showed their tender side when it came to Zhao Yang. Observing their interaction, Grandpa Zhao couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

"Yang-er, did you only miss your brother but not me... your grandfather?" Grandpa Zhao spoke with a hint of betrayal and hurt in his voice. Hearing their grandfather's words, Zhao Yan released Zhao Yang, and they both looked at him before bursting into laughter. Zhao Yang left his brother's side and stood by his grandfather.

"Of course, I missed you too, grandpa. If I'm being honest, I missed you more than my big brother," Zhao Yang reassured the old man, attempting to comfort him. Hearing his grandson express that he missed him more than his older brother, the old man felt a surge of pride and flashed a mocking smile at Zhao Yan, as if to say, 'See, Yang-er loves me more than you.'

Witnessing the heartwarming reunion, the servants and soldiers couldn't help but share in the family's happiness. After being separated for ten years, they could finally live as a family once again. Moreover, the second young master would now have people he could rely on and keep him company.