Chapter 10: Wouldn’t the Generations Be in Disarray?

In Guo Zikun’s eyes, Old Xue was nothing more than a dog raised by the Guo family—a fierce hound they could unleash to bite others. But when Old Xue kicked the door to splinters, Guo Zikun felt as though the world had turned upside down. How could a dog bare its fangs at its master? It was simply unworthy!

“An explanation? You’re not worthy!” Old Xue’s voice was cold and menacing.

“What did you say? I’m not worthy?” Guo Zikun flew into a rage, snatching up a nearby wine bottle and hurling it at Old Xue’s head.

Old Xue, however, had no intention of dodging. Just as the bottle was about to strike his forehead, he reached out with uncanny speed and precision, catching it effortlessly. He pulled out the cork and, as if consuming raw flesh and blood, drained the entire bottle of ’82 Lafite in one gulp.

Such waste! Guo Zikun felt his heart bleeding, and his fury grew exponentially.

“That’s right—you truly aren’t worthy!” Old Xue’s words had barely left his lips before he vanished from sight. The next instant, he appeared behind Guo Zikun, giving him no time to react. The wine bottle smashed hard against Guo Zikun’s head.

Crash!

Glass shattered and flew, and blood streamed down Guo Zikun’s forehead.

“Ah!” Guo Zikun cried out in pain, feeling as if a flock of black crows were circling his head.

“Old Xue, are you insane?” Guo Zikun cursed, instinctively reaching for something nearby to retaliate.

But recalling how he had just hurt himself with his own actions, he quickly decided to choose something softer for his next attack.

He snatched up a pillow from the bed and hurled it at Old Xue, a forced, triumphant smile flickering at the corner of his mouth, as if he had managed to salvage his dignity.

“Let’s see how you like getting a taste of your own medicine!”

Yet before that thought faded, pain shot through his wrist. The pillow slipped from his grasp.

A sudden, suffocating pressure seized him. Only then did Guo Zikun realize that Old Xue was pressing the pillow over his face.

“Damn it!”

Guo Zikun’s eyes bulged with rage and disbelief; he never expected the humiliation to come so swiftly. As he vaguely saw his great-grandmother beckoning to him from the void, someone finally removed the pillow from his face.

He gasped desperately for air, only calming down once the apparition of his ancestor dissolved into scattered motes of light.

“Old Xue, do you even know what you’re doing? You—” Guo Zikun’s words abruptly stopped as he saw a dagger pressed against his throat.

“I take money, I solve problems,” Old Xue said bluntly, sending Guo Zikun’s adrenaline soaring.

“Old Xue, you’re one of our family’s… honored guests. My father even saved your life! You can’t kill me!” Though Guo Zikun still saw Old Xue as their family’s dog, his desperate will to survive forced him to change his words.

He even resorted to the emotional appeal he normally despised. In Guo Zikun’s philosophy, there was nothing money could not fix. If there was, he’d simply offer more.

“Do you have any idea how many times you’ve wanted fish over the years? And I’ve saved your father’s life at least five times. That debt was repaid long ago. From this day forward, I have nothing to do with the Guo family.” Old Xue’s words were resolute. The dagger pressed deeper, its sharp tip breaking the skin. A thin trickle of blood slid down Guo Zikun’s throat.

Guo Zikun was terrified, his survival instincts kicking in once more.

“Old Xue, whoever hired you to kill me, I’ll pay ten times the fee. Just let me live.”

His gaze burned into Old Xue, hoping for a hint of mercy.

But all he saw was Old Xue’s face, which, even in life-or-death moments, remained eerily calm—except now, his mouth twitched violently.

Guo Zikun had no idea that his offer of ten times the price had plunged Old Xue’s mind into chaos. In his imagination, a crumpled five-yuan note swayed before him.

Shame gave way to fury.

“You truly deserve to die!” Old Xue growled through clenched teeth.

A cold gleam flashed.

An agonizing pain shot through Guo Zikun’s body. He watched in horror as an ear was sliced from his head and fell to the floor.

“Ah!” Guo Zikun screamed. He clutched at his head, blood streaming through his fingers. The pain and terror nearly caused the pampered heir to faint.

“Don’t kill me, Old Xue! Surely we can negotiate. I’ll pay a hundred times the price for my life!”

In the depths of terror, Guo Zikun clung ever more desperately to his philosophy of solving problems with money.

Yet upon hearing the offer of a hundredfold payment, Old Xue’s composure finally cracked. The five-yuan bill in his mind morphed into a fifty-yuan note.

“I have to finish you off!” Old Xue brought the knife down—the other ear was severed.

Just before Guo Zikun passed out from the pain, confusion and regret flooded him.

He wondered how much the mastermind had paid Old Xue to ignore even a hundredfold reward. He regretted not offering a thousand or ten thousand times more—nothing mattered more than saving his own life.

But Guo Zikun couldn’t know that his second ear was lost precisely because he kept raising the price; the repeated increases forced Old Xue to relive the trauma of being paid only fifty cents for his work.

“If not for the orders of that man, I’d have cut you into pieces. You lucked out, you wretch,” Old Xue spat, kicking Guo Zikun’s body twice.

In truth, Qin Chuan had only ordered that Guo Zikun lose one ear as a warning. That was why Old Xue hadn’t killed him outright.

After finishing the job, Old Xue left the villa swiftly, keeping his deeds hidden.

Dawn, the next morning.

The Lan family’s ancestral home.

Lan Weimin awoke from a deep sleep, and his ashen face now bore a faint flush; his cloudy eyes sparkled with renewed vigor. Upon learning that Qin Chuan had saved his life, Lan Weimin was overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Ah Fu, help me up. I want to thank my grandmaster in person,” Lan Weimin urged.

Lan Jin frowned, “Grandfather, you really shouldn’t be moving around in your condition.”

“What do you mean shouldn’t? Jin’er, you don’t understand how formidable your grandmaster is. I won’t explain; just help me up,” Lan Weimin said, agitated.

Lan Jin pursed her lips, “Grandfather, can you stop calling him grandmaster with every breath? If things work out between me and Qin Chuan, won’t our family hierarchy be all tangled up?”

She recalled how, forced yesterday, she had to call Qin Chuan ‘father’—the generations were truly in chaos.

Lan Weimin was stunned for a moment, then burst into joy. “Jin’er, if you and the grandmaster end up together, I’d be happy to call you grandmistress!”

Lan Jin’s lips twitched; for a moment, she was utterly speechless.