A Long Grind to Daoist Monarch-Chapter 120 - 108: County Daoist School, the He Family Arrives (3)

The guard team following behind sped up, closely keeping up, leaving only Song Qiying with a face full of regret.

County Daoist School!

It is said to be a good place for the descendants of the Thirteen High Gates to learn the law.

Upon graduation, they can be granted amulets by the Dragon Court and be listed in the Daoist registry!

"Still too hasty!"

Song Qiying gave himself a hard slap, rubbed his swollen and painful face, and chased after the large group in front.

...

...

The next day.

He Family Mansion.

He Wenbing sat wearily in the pavilion, all the fish raised in the pond were dead, floating white on the surface, emitting a rotten stench, while servants were cleaning it with long-handled nets.

He was habitually holding a handful of fish food, but had nowhere to throw it.

Yang Meng is dead, He Zhong is dead, Tai'Er is also dead.

There are no servants to use, and no incense burner to continue.

He Wenbing hung his head low, his sallow face covered in a layer of black air suddenly turned hideous:

"You think you can do whatever you want to me just because I'm cut off? The family business I've struggled to build over a dozen years, letting a rotten fisherman take advantage? Dream on!

Even a dog like Yang Meng can bite a piece off, how could I sit and wait for death!"

Thoughts surged like tidal waves, crashing one after another, He Wenbing's fingers clenched so tightly they creaked.

Finally, they suddenly released, all spilled on the ground.

"The letter was sent out two days ago, he should have arrived."

He Wenbing stood up, looked at the sky, and left the pavilion with large strides.

By the stone chair, a cane stood lonely.

Blown by the cold wind, it toppled over with a clatter!

...

...

A large ship was docked at East Market Pier, towering several meters high, divided into two levels, the bottom called the "Sparrow Room," and the top "Flying Pavilion."

The mast was hung with several paper lanterns, marked with the striking character "He."

No sampan dared to approach from either side, like a fierce tiger perched on a hill.

A man stepped out of the cabin onto the vast deck, dressed so lavishly it was absurd, in a sea-blue cloud-patterned brocade cuff, overlaid with a gold-thread embroidered tasseled gown, wearing a white jade crown, and a pair of Heaven-Pointing Boots.

Just standing there, full of extravagant air.

"Is the sedan here?"

This unfamiliar face, around twenty years old, stood with a straight back and broad shoulders, eyebrows like carved with a knife.

He exuded a dignity beyond his years, a silent authority.

"It's waiting below."

The butler-like old man spoke with his hands in his sleeves, smiling.

The distinguished blue-clad young man hummed softly, walked down the long plank, and suddenly stopped.

Looking down at the muddy road, he took off the large robe over him with a flick of his hand, the fine material worth hundreds of taels was instantly stained with layers of dirt.

Yet he didn't care and stepped on it, walked a few steps away, and got into the soft sedan with the curtain lifted.

"Blind fools! Making the Seventh Young Master use his own clothes to pave the way! If there's a next time, I'll peel off a layer of your skin!"

The old butler berated harshly, and the strong bearers of the sedan didn't dare to breathe loudly, enduring it in silence.

The He Family has always been rigorously disciplined, and any misstep in word or deed by the subordinates could result in severe punishment.

"Lift the sedan."

The blue-clad young man appeared somewhat impatient, lightly patting inside the sedan, the bearers immediately stood up, stepping swiftly and steadily, heading directly to the He Family Mansion.

In no time, the only wide soft sedan in Black River County landed on the smooth stone-paved floor.

The old butler stepped forward to lift the curtain, and the blue-clad young man bent over to come out, his eyes lifting with his waist:

"Does Third Uncle He live in such a place?"

The old butler's forehead wrinkles seemed to capture a dead fly, smiling with a hint of sarcasm:

"It's a poor and remote place; conditions are harsh, nothing can be done. I'm sorry for the grievance, Seventh Young Master."

Unpleasantness flickered across the young man's eyes, his boots stepping on the twice-washed floor, looking at the hurriedly approaching He Wenbing.

The latter walked with ease, no trace of yesterday's sluggishness when holding a banquet at the Dragon King Temple, his expressive laughter arriving before him:

"Seventh Young Master, it's been a long time, I attended your first birthday banquet before leaving Yihai Prefecture, at that time you were so young, not even babbling yet.

Time truly doesn't spare anyone, in the blink of an eye you've grown so tall, impressive and outstanding…"

The blue-clad young man directly ascended the steps, ignoring the warmly extended hand of He Wenbing, letting the latter prattle on, he too remained silent, heading inside the mansion.

Passing through the long corridor under the wind and rain, sweeping his gaze over the few clumps of flowers and rockeries in the backyard, the carved doors and windows, he shook his head repeatedly:

"It's too run-down, this needs to be demolished, with a screen wall set up, also here, all the flowers and plants need to be pulled out and replaced, this pond reeks, have someone fill it in later…"

The blue-clad young man acted like the owner of this mansion, proposing numerous ideas about the layout and decorations of the front and back yards.

He Wenbing, trailing step by step, had a stiff smile yet agreed to each suggestion.

After about half a stick of incense, the frowning young man stepped into the stable, looked at the long trough and empty stalls, finally giving He Wenbing a proper look:

"Third Uncle He, my father received your letter just yesterday, and sent me over today.

His intentions are simple and clear, the He family's fortune, no outsiders should get a bit.

He Tai is dead, your line has ended, but you're not alone.

From now on, I will be adopted from the main family into yours, taking care of you in your old age."

He Wenbing was greatly alarmed, hastily explaining:

"Ah? This… the main family misunderstood, I am not incapable of taking another concubine, it's just that Wuxing and Chai Market have been pressing too hard, wanting me to hand over the dock, shops, most of the family assets, I…"

The blue-clad young man waved his hand, unceremoniously interrupting:

"I've just said, the He family's fortune, no outsiders should take away a bit.

Everything that needs to be said has been said, Uncle Yang, do it."

The old butler twisted his steps, ghost-like, suddenly appearing behind He Wenbing, his five fingers curved like claws, heavily striking the back of the head.

Smack!

He Wenbing's eyes widened, quickly losing their luster.

The whole person collapsed, face askew, limbs spontaneously twitching as if convulsing.

The blue-clad young man didn't even glance at He Wenbing, only had the old butler carry that body, issuing commands in a manner that brooked no dispute in front of the mansion's crowd:

"Godfather had a stroke, from now on, all businesses under the Fishery will be entrusted to me."