Chapter 76: My Child Bears the Bearing of a Great Emperor (2)

Compared to Qin Teng, Qin Man always seemed overly delicate, but fortunately, he never cared to lead the charge as a vanguard general. Instead, he preferred to scheme behind the scenes. Seeing this, Cui Ge sent him to study under a strategist, and when the brothers met again, Qin Teng had already become a renowned young god of war, his name alone causing enemies to tremble.

Qin Man, too, was a famed strategist throughout the land.

Because they were brothers and quickly reunited, Qin Teng attracted envy, jealousy, and resentment—everyone thought he was cheating. Who else came equipped with their own strategist? Most had to struggle to build their reputation, then actively seek out and woo wise men before earning their loyalty.

But not them. Born from the same mother, one was a celebrated young general, the other a famed young strategist. If not for their inept father, neither would have been subdued by others; each would have soared as a hidden dragon.

In battle, they met no rivals, turning the contest for the throne into a beginner’s game. Though, for others, it became a nightmare.

If their father hadn’t been so useless—easily swayed, jumping out to loudly denounce their supposed unfilial conduct at the front lines, sullying their reputations—they would have been contenders for the throne, not merely forerunners paving the way for kings.

Qin Man never sought to be emperor; he was simply vexed by those elder generals, who lacked his brother’s brilliance and only excelled at internal intrigue, not at war. Truly capable men were rare; pretenders abounded. Worse yet, those pretenders resented his brother’s exceptional talent at such a young age, as though their own years had been wasted, and so they constantly dragged the brothers down.

Their rulers were plagued by troubles and constraints.

Qin Teng did not fall to a worthy foe, but was dragged down by his own side. Qin Man did not die from overexertion of his intellect, but from patching holes and cleaning up after his incompetent allies—possibly, also, from the sheer frustration at their stupidity.

He’d be coughing blood from rage one moment, and forced to help the next.

What finally brought him down was the news that Qin Teng, sent to rescue allies, was refused entry into their city, forced to watch as the enemy surrounded and slaughtered them.

When Qin Man awoke to find himself in a smaller body—and saw his loathsome father—he nearly leapt with joy.

Very well, since he was given this chance, he wasted no time plotting to rid himself of his feckless father, whose only contribution was to drag them down.

As for the lord who once aided the brothers, all debts had been paid in their previous lives—now, they owed him nothing.

Qin Man clenched his fists, full of ambition, determined to see his brother become a legendary sovereign.

Fatefully, Qin Teng had the same idea.

His younger brother’s intellect was unmatched, but his martial prowess lacking. Qin Teng had to become lord to protect him to the fullest.

The thought of those stupid allies relying on him to clean up their messes, only to keep making them, made Qin Teng’s fists clench.

Why were all his admirable heroes his enemies, and only fools surrounded him?

A good question.

The opponents Qin Teng regarded as heroes: ...

With the two of them present, who in their right mind would serve their lord instead of opposing them? To join meant to be forever suppressed by the brothers; at least as adversaries, they could shine, even if just briefly.

When the brothers died, their former rivals flocked to their lord, waving the banner of respect for the fallen.

Of course, the brothers knew nothing of this. Had they known, they’d have been infuriated.

Once convinced that his brother, like himself, had returned from the future, Qin Teng declared with murderous intent, “Tonight I’ll sneak into the old fool’s quarters and finish him with a single stroke.”

Qin Man’s eyelid twitched. “Brother, you mustn’t. Every action leaves a trace. Last time, we suffered from slander and lost our reputations. This time, I want you to stand at the summit without blemish.”

Qin Teng grew impatient; he always deferred to his brother’s intellect.

“If the old fool lives, we must endure his whims while we’re young. Uncle won’t return for a couple of years. I can’t stand it.”

“But you cannot act. If you bear the stigma of patricide, the world will never submit to you.”

“Then I’ll fight until they do!”

Qin Man sighed. “And Mother? Though he treated her so cruelly, she still clings to hope. After Uncle takes us away, relieved of worries, she quickly fell ill with melancholy. On her deathbed, she kept calling his name. If she learns you killed him, how would she feel?”

Qin Teng was stumped, and irritably began tugging his brother’s hair.

At this moment, still weak and needing medicine, Qin Man raised his voice in fury. “Qin Teng!”

The shout startled Cui, who lay in bed. Without opening her eyes, she reached out. “Don’t be afraid, Wu Bing. Mother’s here.”

Qin Man, following his body’s memory, nestled into his mother’s arms, glaring fiercely at Qin Teng.

Strategists always suffered from hair loss, and now his hair was still lush and green, yet his brother dared to pull it—a direct hit to his sore spot.

Qin Teng rubbed his own head, giving a silly grin, like the simpleton son of a landlord.

Cui opened her eyes, clarity returning, and seeing her son’s honest smile, she paused, sighing inwardly, determined not to falter. She forced herself to perk up.

When Lan Hua, who had gone out to fetch supplies, entered, Cui immediately asked her to help with her hair and makeup.

Qin Ye had spent the whole day outside, chasing chickens and dogs, and only returned at dusk, guided leisurely by a servant holding a lantern.

This time, he saw, at a glance, Cui standing by the roadside, radiant as a blooming peony, unmatched in beauty, seemingly waiting for him.

The original self was satisfied with Liu Yu’s tactics and flattery, but dissatisfied with his looks; he preferred Cui’s beauty, yet disliked her aloofness.

Once Cui lowered herself, the original self reverted to the charming scholar who could deceive a wealthy maiden before marriage.

Of course, that only worked on the original self; Qin Ye himself was unaffected.

Still, he turned his steps toward Cui.

Cui greeted him with a graceful bow. “Husband, Yuwan is here to admit her fault to you.”

Qin Ye replied indifferently, following Cui to the Bamboo Garden. Once seated, he asked with a cold air, “Didn’t you always insist you were blameless?”

“Yuwan was shallow and short-sighted, failing to see that Mother acted for her good, mistaking her intentions for torment. I was full of resentment. Now I realize, even if Mother did act deliberately, it must have been my fault to begin with.”

Yuwan ought to reflect deeply on herself. How could she harbor resentment against Mother?

When Cui wished to please someone, even if it was Qin Ye here, she seemed pitiful and lovable—how could a beauty ever be at fault? Surely he must have misunderstood her.

Qin Ye murmured, his voice grave, “You’ve suffered.”

“Yuwan has not suffered. This is Mother’s test for me. But Teng’er and Man’er—what have those innocent children done wrong? When I, their mother, am treated harshly, the servants mistreat them as well.”

Qin Ye was shocked. “Such a thing happened?”

The original self truly didn’t know—after all, he had little sense, but his fortune was decent. With his handsome looks, he managed to woo Cui’s daughter and revive his declining family.

He even became Lord Qin.

But it wouldn’t last. In two years, his brother-in-law would beat him, confiscate all his wealth, and leave him begging.

Later, he learned his sons, famed young talents, were indeed his own. He was tricked into going to war, ending up on the opposite side, nearly slaughtered.

Afterwards, he publicly denounced his sons for disloyalty and disrespect, crushing their reputation, believing this would force them to submit.

In the end, he gained nothing, abandoned and trampled to death in the chaos.

His original self was furious, dying with boundless resentment, which gave him a chance to seek retribution.

He still believed he’d done nothing wrong; his sons were ingrates for neglecting their father.

If only his sons showed some concern, he could have become not just Lord Qin, but Elder Qin.

Granted, he was not kind to their mother—he admitted this, but his brother-in-law had already dealt with it.

There can be no lasting grudges between father and son; why should they reject him?

If they dared, it was unfilial.

He was blameless.

Qin Ye had no comment—he only feigned being mesmerized by Cui’s beauty, and, in a fit of rage, ordered all the servants gathered in the front courtyard.

Under blazing lanterns, Qin Ye erupted in fury, dismissing a crowd of servants.

Many were loyal to the old lady, and seeing Qin Ye’s actions, they hurried to report to her.

True to form, she came, leaning on her cane.

“Stop! Are you trying to drive me to my grave?”

Qin Ye rolled his eyes. “It’s only a few servants. How does that threaten you?”

The old lady nearly choked—did he not know to spare her pride? Dismissing her people was like trampling her face.

“Tonight I’ll stand right here. Let’s see who dares to send them away!”

The steward paused, looking to Qin Ye in distress.

Qin Ye said, “She can stand where she likes. You do your job. If you can’t handle this, maybe you aren’t fit to be steward.”