It was mid-morning. "Crash! Cluck, cluck, squawk!"—the sounds of destruction mingled with the frantic cries of chickens fleeing for their lives.
A tall, well-built youth stood there. His parted hair was styled in voluminous waves, with two thin, cricket-antenna-like strands framing his ears. A silver streak, about half a centimeter wide, ran through his front bangs, adding a touch of unique flair to his appearance.
His face was smudged and covered in earthy brown splatters—which were, in all likelihood, chicken droppings.
Yet, even this could not detract from his refined, handsome features.
His name was Vo Than. Since childhood, he had been thoroughly spoiled by his entire family—from his grandfather, mother, and father, down to his younger brother, Vo Phong, who always indulged him.
He possessed an innate talent for martial arts, carrying on the family legacy. His grandfather placed high hopes on him, expecting him to protect the family in the future.
The generations of his grandfather and parents had once fought fiercely in the martial world, renowned as top-tier masters who were constantly challenged by various rival factions.
Eventually, having no rivals left, his grandfather grew weary of the endless harassment from these mediocre martial artists. They were like a pack of hunting hounds, tracking him down wherever he went just to issue challenges.
Ultimately, he decided to take his son and daughter-in-law to live on a towering, cloud-shrouded mountain surrounded by treacherous cliffs, seeking refuge from the troublesome world below.
When the family made their escape, he was still just a tiny spark of life growing inside his mother's womb.
His grandfather was determined that the boy would not be born into a life of danger.
"Where is Vo Than? You can't even catch a single chicken! You'd better not let me find you today!"
His grandfather's thunderous roar echoed just as the old man stormed into the chaotic battlefield Vo Than had just created.
Although well over sixty, a lifetime of martial arts training had left his grandfather as robust and vigorous as a young man.
He scanned the surroundings, but he couldn't spot even a shadow of the boy.
People often say, "A son who surpasses his father is a blessing to the home." In Vo Than's case, he had surpassed not only his father but his grandfather as well.
He had squeezed himself into a narrow crevice between some boulders not far from the chicken coop, concealing himself with a few freshly broken green branches.
With the stealth techniques and skills he had honed over eighteen years under his family's tutelage, there was absolutely no way his grandfather could find him.
The harsh reality, however, was that these "skills" were entirely self-delusional. His grandfather had simply let him off the hook countless times, pretending to be blind to his whereabouts.
Knowing that the immense power within the boy was difficult to control, the old man had always been lenient.
After so many successful "escapes," Vo Than had come to believe he was vastly superior to his grandfather.
Standing leisurely between the boulders, he wore a smug, self-satisfied smile. *Oh, Grandfather! Having a grandson like me must be so exhausting. I really wish I weren't so incredibly powerful and intelligent.* A gentle, cool breeze swept past, making him feel even more pleased with himself.
Just as he was lost in his delusional daydream, he felt the boulders suddenly shift and press inward, rapidly shrinking his hiding space.
Panic flickered across his face. He began to rack his brain for an escape plan, but just as a spark of inspiration struck him, his body was clamped tight, pinning him upright like a standing mummy.
The space had shrunk so much that he could do nothing but stand completely rigid and straight.
His powerful right arm was more than capable of shattering the stone, but unfortunately, it was pinned so tightly to his side that he couldn't even budge, let alone throw a punch.
"Well, my dear grandson? Is it comfortable in there? I've always wanted to try standing in a spot like that just once, but alas, I'm old and my abilities are limited." As he spoke, his grandfather brushed aside the branches Vo Than had used to cover his bulky frame.
A bright smile spread across his grandfather’s face, as if teasing his mischievous grandson.
"Grandpa! Help me, I'm completely stuck."
"What's that you said? Your grandpa is old, my hearing isn't what it used to be."
"My dearest Grandpa! Please let me out of here. I'll fix the chicken coop right away and promise not to throw my strength around anymore.
If I break my word, may I be cursed to marry an ugly wife for the rest of my life." The moment the words left his mouth, the space around him expanded, releasing his body, and he quickly scrambled out.
Flashing a fawning, sycophantic smile, he said, "Grandpa, you truly are a master!"
"I can hear you even when you're just breathing. The only reason you ever pull one over on me is because I let you.
Stop lying to yourself and start being honest." With that, his grandfather turned to leave, but after a few steps, he spun back around, pointing a finger right at his face. "Fix that chicken coop right now. I'm watching you."
"Yes, sir! Right away!" He hurried back to the chicken coop, busying himself with putting it back together and fixing the broken parts.
Being naturally quick and clever, the work went smoothly and quickly. In truth, he had done this so often that it had become second nature to him.
His grandfather sat at a small stone table nearby, sipping his tea while keeping a close eye on his every move.
It was his grandfather who had taught him martial arts and trained him to control his power.
As for why he possessed such power, no one knew. From the moment he was born, he carried the strength of a god in his right arm.
It was a power capable of obliterating anything with a single punch.
His grandfather always taught him to control his emotions so he wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, but his words often went in one ear and out the other.
Aside from his innate strength, he possessed an extraordinary talent for martial arts and was proficient in various weapons. His favorite, however, was the hidden gold needle. He could use them to take a life, just as easily as he could use them to save one.
An even more ridiculous reason he favored hidden weapons was that they could be concealed on his person, allowing him to maintain his dashing, handsome appearance.
Once the chicken coop was rebuilt, he dashed over to his grandfather’s side, hastily poured himself several cups of tea, and gulped them down greedily. "I'm dying of thirst, Grandpa!" He kept drinking until there wasn't a single drop left in the teapot.
His grandfather growled, "Go brew me another pot right now."
"Yes, sir! Going right now!" He scurried inside to brew a fresh pot.
As the two sat chatting, his mood suddenly turned a bit somber. Gazing into the distance with a look of longing curiosity, he said, "Grandpa, I really want to leave this mountain just once. I want to go out and see the mortal world, to experience all the wondrous things out there so I don't live this life in vain."
"There's nothing fun out there, only danger, my boy."
"You always say that, but you never tell me anything about it." He sprang to his feet, declaring with heroic determination, "I've made up my mind! I'm leaving this place to travel the world so I don't waste my life. And I'm going to find a beautiful woman to marry!
Otherwise, I won't be able to die in peace!"
His grandfather paid no attention to his grand speech. The boy had made this declaration so many times without ever actually leaving that it had simply become background noise to keep the old man entertained.
Just then, a lively melody played on an ancient instrument began to echo.
It instantly made his aura feel much more powerful.
Music, after all, is the ultimate atmosphere builder.
But where on earth was that music coming from?
Behind the chicken coop, a few dozen meters away, on a large boulder, sat a youth in light blue robes. His demeanor was scholarly and gentle, in stark contrast to his current actions—he was frantically scraping his fingers across the zither, shattering the silence of the surroundings.
He was Wu Feng, the younger brother of Wu Shen, a young man well-versed in the four scholarly arts: zither, go, calligraphy, and painting.
Scholarly and gentle in appearance, he was a bookworm who loved books and adored buying them.
Whenever he had the chance to go down the mountain with his father, he would buy a great deal of books to read and understand the world.
In contrast to his older brother, he was weak; his body was at war with martial arts.
To put it more profoundly, it was as if he had reincarnated into the wrong gender.
That being said, his heart was still that of a true man.
The music had ended, but Wu Shen still stood there, firmly believing he could achieve what he had claimed.
Just as he was lost in his delusions, a familiar voice rang out: "It's noon already. Go inside and cook lunch, and stop daydreaming." The booming voice of his grandfather startled him. "Yes! I'm going right now," he replied, before heading inside.
Heading straight to the kitchen, he saw a woman dressed in mauve. From behind, she looked like a young girl in her twenties.
She truly had a beautiful figure, with curves that could not be hidden.
She was Mu Wan, his mother, and she was currently busy preparing food.
He approached her and said flatteringly, "Dearest Mother! What brings you to the kitchen to cook today?" Before his mother could answer, he continued, "Ah, I know! Your love for your handsome son must have surged today like rolling waves." As he spoke, he pointed his arm toward the ceiling as if expressing something sacred and grand.
"Cut it out. Come over here and chop those vegetables for me."
"You're only good at sweet-talking. I'm the one who cooks every single day anyway." His mother's cold remark abruptly cut off his dramatic flow of emotion.
He quickly went over to chop the vegetables. As he minced them, he probed his mother, "Mother! I want to go down the mountain to learn about the world outside."
"Sure. If you can go, then go." His face went blank, unable to decipher his mother's attitude.
He resorted to sweet-talking, his voice softening:
"Actually, seeing you work so hard every day makes my heart ache."
"My only wish in going down the mountain is to find you a little daughter-in-law."
"She can keep you company every day and help you with everything."
"Mother! Mother! Can you understand your son's filial piety?"
As soon as he finished speaking, his mother gave the wok a professional toss and said, "How do you like my cooking skills?" Her gaze seemed to tell him that she hadn't listened to a single word he had just said.
"Mother!" he whined, drawing out the word for miles.
She knew what he wanted; she was simply pretending not to hear.
"I'm just teasing! If you want to go, go convince your father and grandfather. I won't stop you."
He rushed over and hugged his mother tightly. "Thank you for understanding me, Mother!"
"Get out of the way so I can cook. You're all grown up and still acting like a baby."
He went back to mincing the remaining vegetables, thinking to himself, "My wish is finally coming true. Is heaven helping me? Grandfather and Father are both men, so they'll surely understand."
"Oh, beauties, wait for me! I will be with you soon." As he thought this, he couldn't help but grin like an idiot.
His mother glanced over, shook her head in exasperation, and didn't even bother to say a word to him.
Once lunch was ready, he helped his mother set the table, just as his father returned from gathering herbs.
He dashed to the door, took down the herb basket, and poured a cup of water for Wu Han, his father.
While his father was drinking water, he used his sleeve to gently dab the sweat from his brow.
What on earth was going on? Was he stealing the duties of a wife tending to her husband?
"What do you want?" His father's voice sounded like an interrogation, his demanding nature clear in his words.
He reached up to scratch his head, his body swaying nervously as he stammered, "I... I want to..."
The School Beauty: After I rejected you, how could you treat me so coldly?