"The outcome is decided. Edward Grant, stand down."
A stern voice rang out. King Grant walked into the courtyard from the doorway. Joseph Qiao's wooden stick was pressed against Edward Grant's throat, just a hair's breadth away. In the previous instant, Joseph Qiao had dodged Edward Grant's blow and then, with an upward flick of his stick, pinned it at Edward Grant's throat.
"Father, this brat..."
"Edward Grant, you're about to become a father yourself. Why are you still acting like a child? I told you to stop."
King Grant shouted. Edward Grant released Joseph Qiao's collar, snorted coldly, while Yuna Ji pouted, tilting her head, her whole face filled with disappointment. Edward Grant's face flushed red in an instant.
"Yuna Ji, your big brother didn't lose. Joseph Qiao just played dirty."
Yuna Ji blinked and looked at Edward Grant.
"Really? Big Brother?"
Joseph Qiao just smiled calmly and nodded.
"If this were a real battlefield, I wouldn't be able to beat your big brother Edward Grant. I'm not as strong as he is. In a direct clash, I'd probably lose my head in the first round, with no chance to use any tricks."
Yuna Ji huffed, pouting, and pointed at Joseph Qiao.
"Dad, if someone's going to teach me, it shouldn't be Joseph Qiao. I want my big sister Lucille Xing to come back and teach me."
King Grant glared at Yuna Ji in fury. Yuna Ji immediately wilted, mouth agape, forcing a stiff smile.
"Does your butt still hurt?"
King Grant asked, his words filled with anger. Yuna Ji quickly covered her behind and shook her head.
"I won't do it again, Dad. Please don't hit me."
King Grant walked over and, as if picking up a chick, lifted Yuna Ji off the table and pinched her cheek.
"Ow, Dad, it hurts! Let go, it hurts!"
Yuna Ji tilted her head, clutching King Grant's hand, crying out repeatedly.
"Look at yourself. Even if Lucille Xing likes to play, she doesn't act like you—no respect, no manners. The table is for eating, so why are you standing on it? And stop sneaking meat from the kitchen. If I catch you again, I'll hang you at the palace gate."
"Enough, enough, Father. Yuna Ji knows she was wrong." Edward Grant hurriedly pulled King Grant away, trying to smooth things over.
Just as Yuna Ji began to cry, King Grant roared in anger.
"No crying."
Frightened, Yuna Ji stood up straight, hands at her sides, even her runny nose sucked back in, silent.
King Grant glanced at Joseph Qiao, signaling him to follow.
As Joseph Qiao reached the doorway, he turned back with a smile. Yuna Ji stuck out her tongue and made a face at him.
Arriving at King Grant's resting place, Joseph Qiao poured hot water into two beakers and sat down.
King Grant let out a long sigh.
"What am I supposed to do? As they say, 'Five years old shows what you'll be when you're old.' Sigh."
As he spoke, King Grant clutched his abdomen, looking uncomfortable. Five years had aged him; at forty, he had little time left.
Over these five years, Joseph Qiao had managed the wood-chipped ground well, and the grain harvest exceeded expectations. He also began raising wild birds from the surrounding area, with good results.
"You're just like your father—very good at managing things."
King Grant sighed, and Joseph Qiao shook his head.
"I'm still not as good as my father. After all, I've never been to the battlefield."
At the mention of the battlefield, King Grant's expression darkened. He was always anxious inside. To the east, the Zou Clan—his second daughter Ji La still hadn't had children with the current clan chief.
"Without blood ties, they'll always be outsiders."
Edward Grant said helplessly, but Joseph Qiao shook his head.
"I don't think so, King Grant. Human hearts never die. Even if they have children, if they truly want to rebel, they'll cut those ties without hesitation. I've heard the Zou Clan chief already has children with other women."
Joseph Qiao had advised King Grant long ago to secretly keep tabs on the Zou Clan. Sure enough, in Zoudou, there were northern tribes and people from Sidi coming and going. All this news reached Jidu. Every year at tribute time, King Grant would probe with questions, but the Zou Clan always had plausible excuses to deflect.
"How about this, King Grant? I'm willing to go myself."
As Joseph Qiao spoke, King Grant looked at him and nodded.
"But it's harvest season now. Wait until winter approaches."
Joseph Qiao nodded, planning to head out and visit the Queen. By now, Yuna Ji should have been brought back.
As soon as he left King Grant's residence, Joseph Qiao looked up at the gloomy sky and sighed helplessly. He knew very well that, despite the Grant Family's strength, facing attacks from Sidi and Yingdi would not be easy, especially with internal problems.
Even though the northern tribes had been weakened by disasters, Sidi and Yingdi's support never stopped. Now that the disasters were over—since the year before last—the north had seen no calamity, and the northern tribes were likely recovering.
The Grant Family's ally, the Jiang Family, claimed they would send soldiers if war broke out, but it would be lucky if they didn't stab them in the back.
Rumor had it that the Jiang Family blamed the Grant Family for Yunmei's situation in Jidu.
The current situation is absolutely not suitable for war. They must build up strength first.
"For now, it's best to focus on teaching that mischievous Yuna Ji."
The gloomy sky began to drizzle. Stanley Tang stood by the river, staring at the water, a smile appearing on his face.
"Chief, the people from Yingdi have arrived. They're waiting for you!"
Stanley Tang turned his head.
"Treat them well. I'll be there soon."
In the past five years, the Tang Clan had undergone tremendous changes. In the lands that once belonged to the Qiao Clan, there had been several famines, with many deaths. Four years ago, Tang Shan, out of desperation, planned to move the clan back to their original home, but Stanley Tang refused. He trusted his uncle Leonard Tang's advice: just endure one more year, and things would improve—the area would thrive.
As a result, father and son fell out, and internal strife began in the clan. It was then that, one morning, Tang Shan was found stiff and dead in bed, his corpse terrifying. Stanley Tang naturally became the clan chief.
Following his uncle's advice, years ago Stanley Tang secretly dismembered and buried the dead in the wasteland. Now, those wastelands had come back to life and could be farmed. At first, Stanley Tang felt it was desecration, but after much persuasion from Leonard Tang and seeing his starving clan, he agreed.
"Uncle, where are you going?"
Walking along the village path, Stanley Tang saw his uncle carrying things, with another man beside him. Stanley Tang always felt a chill around Leonard Tang, who was nearly fifty, covered in dark spots—just like Stanley Tang's father. Now, he was the oldest in the clan.
"Stanley, I'm heading into the mountains to look for herbs. My chest has been tight lately."
Stanley Tang didn't think much of it and quickly left the two men, a chill running down his spine.
At that moment, Leonard Tang and Wraithshade arrived at a field shrouded in black mist. From time to time, wailing sounds echoed, and faces appeared on the surface of the soil, twisted and terrifying.
"Looks like it's failed again. Crops from this land are safe for those with strong yang energy, but those with weak yang will get sick, maybe even die."
Leonard Tang spoke, and Wraithshade shook his head helplessly.
"Better to die of sickness than of hunger."
Suddenly, Tang Lan coughed violently, covering his mouth. He spat out a handful of black blood.
"I never imagined my big brother's resentment would run so deep."
Chimei Wangliang gently patted Tang Shi's back.
"The force within you has existed for ages. It's called a curse. At this point, forget about prolonging your life—just surviving is a miracle."
Tang Lan's single eye glared angrily at the field. Suddenly, a wisp of black mist appeared in the center of the land, followed by a furious, twisted face.
"Big Brother, how long will you keep tormenting me? Let me go."
A wailing sound echoed as Tang Lan kept coughing, his whole body convulsing, black blood streaming from his nose, eyes, ears, and mouth.
"Can't you suppress this ghost?"
Tang Lan asked, but Chimei Wangliang shook his head.
"Not for now. So you need to hide in the mountains for a while. The distance should weaken the curse a bit. After all, this thing is still a mystery to me. Our Wu clan has always had this, but it's useless against some people, like clan chiefs. I don't know why."
At the entrance to the forest, Tang Lan finally collapsed, trembling, and raised a hand.
"Give me the medicine. The pain is unbearable."
Chimei Wangliang pulled a large black shell from his bag. Inside were wriggling black worms. He extended a finger, and the worms bit it, causing him to grimace in pain. Then he put his finger into Tang Lan's mouth.
Soon, all the black worms crawled into Tang Lan's mouth. After a while, Tang Lan seemed relieved, sweating and panting as he sat on the ground.
"This thing really is miraculous. Heh, Chimei Wangliang, where did you get it?"
"I got it deep in the mountains, from a mysterious tribe. They worship worms as gods and can control them. I'll take you there this time—hopefully, they're still alive."