"Interesting," Jiang Wang chuckled.
"Are you going?" Ling He asked.
"Why wouldn't I?" Jiang Wang turned to An'an. "Big bro's taking you out for a feast. Sound good?"
Jiang An'an nodded her little head seriously.
Ling He began tidying his clothes and casually strapped on his sword.
"Hey!" Jiang Wang stopped him. "No need to come along—we're not going to fight."
Meeting Ling He's gaze, Jiang Wang added, "Don't worry. The Fang family isn't that stupid."
Ling He thought it over and agreed, placing the sword back and sitting cross-legged. For him, unless something else required his attention, he could spend days on end cultivating.
There was a special kind of joy in cultivation—one could truly lose themselves in it.
…
On their way to Moonview Tower, An'an suddenly looked up and asked, "Is the Fang family bad people?"
"Oh?" Jiang Wang looked at her with interest. "Why do you say that?"
"I saw even Brother Ling He looked like he wanted to fight them," she replied.
Jiang Wang laughed.
For someone like Ling He to show hostility—now that was rare.
"Then we shouldn't go eat," Jiang An'an said.
"No way. We must go eat. We'll eat with flair, with style," Jiang Wang said deliberately. "We'll eat the bad guys poor. That's doing good, you understand?"
Jiang An'an bit her thumb, seemingly deep in thought, and gave a small nod.
Smack!
"No thumb-biting!"
In Riverwatch City, there was a famed Riverwatch Pavilion—lofty in stature and widely known. The similarly named Moonview Tower in Maple Forest City paled in comparison.
The building was modest—only three stories tall. Bearing the name "Moonview" was a bit of a joke, not matching its actual stature.
But the dishes here were truly excellent, making it a popular and prosperous spot in the city.
Jiang Wang, carrying An'an, was led by a Fang family servant directly to a private room.
A middle-aged man with a calm demeanor and scholarly air stood to greet him. "My talented young friend!"
His gaze fell on An'an, and his smile grew warmer. "This must be your little sister? She's adorable."
Jiang Wang had met Fang Zehou before—back when he and Fang Pengju were close. At that time, Fang Zehou often invited them to meals and treated his nephew with doting hope. But after Fang Pengju's disgraceful death, not a single member of the Fang family stepped forward to arrange a burial.
Jiang Wang had no desire to be his "talented young friend," so he simply said, "Greetings, Clan Leader Fang."
"Not yet, not yet," Fang Zehou chuckled. Then he waved over a servant, took a string of golden beads, and offered it to An'an. "First time meeting, here's a little gift from uncle!"
An'an turned her head away and buried her face into Jiang Wang's arms. In her little mind, she had already decided this man was a bad guy—not even worth talking to.
Jiang Wang set An'an down at the table and said, "She's shy with strangers, don't take offense. As for the gift, that's not necessary. Perhaps you can just say directly—why did you invite me here today?"
Fang Zehou had bought an honorary rank of 'Assistant Magistrate'—a title with actual bureaucratic standing. So addressing him as such wasn't improper.
"No rush, no rush," Fang Zehou showed no sign of discomfort and motioned for the servant to put the golden beads away. "Try the signature dish first—lotus-wrapped chicken."
An'an had long resolved to eat the villain into poverty. She was ready to dig in but was stopped by Jiang Wang's hand.
Jiang Wang picked up his chopsticks and tasted every dish on the table. After savoring the flavors, he selected a few dishes and placed them in front of An'an.
"I've tested them—these taste the best."
An'an wanted to complain, but the aroma of the lotus-wrapped chicken overwhelmed her. She had no time to argue—she grabbed a drumstick and started chomping.
Fang Zehou's smile remained warm throughout, as if he hadn't noticed Jiang Wang's caution.
"Such a close sibling bond," he complimented.
"I manage," Jiang Wang replied indifferently.
An'an shot him an angry glare, but with her mouth full, she could only furiously bite into a wing in protest.
Jiang Wang didn't care and continued, "So, Assistant Magistrate, what is it you wanted to discuss?"
Fang Zehou suddenly sighed, his expression turning heavy. "Regarding Pengju… our Fang family owes you an apology."
At the mention of Fang Pengju, Jiang Wang had to grow serious. No matter how things unfolded, Fang Pengju was dead—grudges ended with death. He had no desire, nor need, to keep pursuing it.
"It's in the past," Jiang Wang said.
"Even if you say that, our Fang family still owes you something." Fang Zehou pushed a small box across the table. "Here's a hundred taels of red gold—a token of apology."
"Pengju took responsibility for what he did," Jiang Wang said, not even glancing at the box. "Let's stop playing around. Just tell me what you want."
Fang Zehou nodded. "Pengju was once the hope of our Fang family—his future limitless. He died in a duel with you. Though it was his own fault, our Fang family never gave you any trouble afterward, correct?"
"Correct," Jiang Wang agreed. That much was true.
"Now, this uncle has a request."
Jiang Wang looked at him, signaling him to go on.
Fang Zehou said, "After Pengju's death, the only promising youth left in our family is Heling. I placed all my hopes on him. He's worked hard in cultivation—his strength now even surpasses yours. But…"
Jiang Wang raised an eyebrow, knowing this was the main act.
"But after that duel with you, he lost all confidence. He shut himself in, drowning in alcohol. I fear he'll become a complete wreck."
Even someone as cunning as Fang Zehou showed a tremble in his voice at this point.
After all, that was his only son.
"So?" Jiang Wang asked.
"This is hard to say…" Fang Zehou hesitated. "But this uncle shamelessly asks… could you apologize to Heling? Tell him you used… underhanded tricks in the duel—help him rebuild his confidence."
Jiang Wang almost laughed. "You want me to admit something I didn't do?"
"It won't be for nothing!" Fang Zehou quickly said. "After it's done, in addition to that red gold, I'll give you another hundred taels! All you have to do… is bow your head—just once…"
Jiang Wang tapped the box of gold with his finger and did laugh. "The Fang family has produced cultivators, right? If I remember correctly, the old master reached the Eighth Rank—Zhoutian Realm? So what's the point of all this gold and silver to cultivators?"
He pushed the box back across the table.
Fang Zehou immediately pulled out a small brocade box from his robe, carefully opened it, and placed it before Jiang Wang.
The wave of Dao energy from the box caught Jiang Wang's attention instantly.
"This is a Dao Source Stone. I believe it's useful to a cultivator," Fang Zehou said sincerely. "Just a small bow—and it's yours."
This Dao Source Stone was indeed valuable. Compared to common wealth, this was hard currency for cultivators—used for advancement or replenishing power. And this one was untouched, fully intact, containing the energy of one hundred Dao units.
For Jiang Wang, absorbing this stone would bring him to Foundation Establishment instantly!
Now he understood how Fang Heling had advanced so quickly, already nearing completion of the Lesser Zhoutian Cycle.
But Jiang Wang simply closed the box gently. "Maybe you're right. My bow means nothing."
He pushed the box back again. "But Fang Heling—he's not worthy."
He was the one provoked, the one forced to fight. Why should he apologize? The other guy lost and collapsed—who's to blame? Does being weak automatically make you righteous? You're weak, so you're always right?
The Dao Source Stone mattered—but truth and principle mattered more.
"At least think about it for your sister's sake," Fang Zehou said slowly. "She's still attending that private school, right?"
At that moment, An'an was still devouring food, sauce on her face, oblivious to the adult conversation.
Jiang Wang's gaze sharpened instantly. For the first time, his killing intent surged—clear and unhidden.
Fang Zehou, struggling to meet his eyes, had an urge to leap out the window. Only now did he realize—the youth before him was no fragile greenhouse flower. He was a wild beast—hardened by storms and survival!
"Hahaha," Jiang Wang suddenly laughed and stood, lifting An'an into his arms. "No more eating. Let's go home."
No matter what he felt, he would never act violently in front of An'an. He would never put her in danger.
"Mm… mm…" An'an struggled to swallow her last bite, already in his arms, but her eyes still clung longingly to the food on the table.
"Consider it… me begging you," Fang Zehou said behind them.
But Jiang Wang, carrying his sister, had already pushed open the door and left without a pause.
…
…