Volume One: The Wild Boy Chapter Thirty-Eight: Joining Forces

How can you tell when someone is truly unique? There was once a great sage in the Central Lands who said that only when calamity strikes, only in the face of overwhelming power and the baring of human nature, can a true king reveal themselves.

If that’s so, then amidst the crowd of petty schemers, only Lin Changtian stood tall.

The patience of the youth in brocade was nearly exhausted. One after another, his servants rushed forward, yet not a single one could get within three feet of Lin Changtian. This was no longer a balanced struggle; it was clear that this audacious nobody was making sport of them.

Soon, the servants were all soundly beaten. Lin Changtian spared their lives, merely leaning on his blade and fixing the youth with a cold, unyielding gaze.

Yet the youth in brocade showed no trace of fear. He strode straight toward Lin Changtian, spat at his feet, and sneered, “Looks like I’m just unlucky today. I admit defeat. But think carefully—once this is over, you’ll walk away unscathed with a fine reputation from the mouths of all these people. But can you really take this little girl with you? Even if you don’t mind the burden, do you think I can't find out who her family is? You must know the rules of Ruzhou City—massacres of clans are all too common. Besides—” He cleared his throat and shouted to the surrounding crowd, “Hear me well! If this criminal escapes today, with my power as Wei Ziqing, not a single one of you present will escape retribution! We’ll see what becomes of you all!”

There had been many onlookers, a mingling of jeers, curiosity, and disdain. Now, those words left only a suffocating silence in their wake.

“Isn’t this Wei Ziqing the legitimate grandson of Lord Wei Shaoqing, one of the Ten Elders of Ruzhou City? What will we do now?” the whispers continued. “The Ten Elders are the most favored nobles of Lord Zhou Ran—” “Quiet! He’s now the Northern Emperor, one of the Four Sovereigns of Wen Yuan Divine Continent! Don’t speak his name so casually—are you looking for death?”

Such discussions abounded, but in the end they all coalesced into hostility toward Lin Changtian. The crowd now looked at him with ill will, as if to say: “You wretched fool, why save this other wretched one?”

See how united the people of Ruzhou were at such times.

Fortunately, Lin Changtian’s skin was thick indeed; he ignored the malice in their eyes entirely, lowering his head as though pondering something, then looked up at the youth and spat back in his face, grinning foolishly, “Now we’re even.”

Wei Ziqing’s face turned purple with rage. Clutching his chest, he wiped the spittle from his face, trembling with fury. Never before had he been treated so crudely. Yet Lin Changtian was truly malicious: his spit contained phlegm, which stained Wei Ziqing’s fine clothes and made him retch in disgust.

“Very well, very well! Today, even if you were willing to be the Wei family’s lackey, I’d have none of you!” Wei Ziqing’s teeth ground audibly, like a mad dog gnawing on a corpse—any semblance of noble bearing lost.

Lin Changtian yawned, baring his teeth, then turned to Chen Mo. “I think my teeth are whiter, don’t you?”

Chen Mo examined them both with exaggerated seriousness, nodded gravely, and said, “To be precise, your teeth are not just whiter, but also more even. What toothpaste do you use, young man? Care to share?”

Straightening his clothes and feigning modesty, Lin Changtian replied, “Honestly, they’re not that white. If I must confess, someone of my standing uses only the ‘Noble Toothpaste’ from the Central North. It’s made from a native herb, without a trace of preservatives or surfactants—very healthy, with a sweet taste. You might even say it’s delicious.”

Chen Mo thumped Lin Changtian on the shoulder, pretending to be perplexed. “You sound like a socialite! So, where can one buy such a luxury?”

Lin Changtian curled his fingers in an affected gesture, giggled, and threw Chen Mo a coquettish glance. “Oh, you’re too much, you’re hurting me! You can find this toothpaste in all the major flagship stores—just look for the ‘Noble’ brand. Mine’s almost finished—want to split a tube with me? Honestly, I can easily afford sixteen coins and twenty-eight cents, but it’s all for the sake of my social standing. Don’t take it the wrong way!”

Wei Ziqing watched their antics, his face twisting with rage until he hardly looked human. He kicked at his servants and screamed hoarsely, “All of you, get up there! Stop playing dead! The Wei family has fed you for years—don’t cling to your worthless lives! Get up!”

But no matter how he berated or beat them, the servants lying on the ground didn’t budge. Their thoughts were remarkably unified: for the pittance paid each month, risking their lives against a monster like this wasn’t worth it. Let him play his own games.

Seeing this, Chen Mo and Lin Changtian exchanged a glance, then grinned viciously and advanced on Wei Ziqing.

All his noble pride evaporated in an instant. Wei Ziqing fell to his knees, hung his head, and muttered bitterly, “It was childish of me to offend you both. I am, after all, just a child—please, spare me this once.” Yet the malice on his face could not be concealed. When he finished speaking, he buried his head between his knees.

Lin Changtian scratched his head, smiling guilelessly. “So you’re a child? Could’ve sworn you were a giant baby. Anyway, I only have two hobbies in life: yanking old men’s beards and kicking little kids’ butts.”

No sooner had he finished than, right there in the street, he pinned Wei Ziqing down, yanked down his pants, and took the foul shoe Chen Mo handed him, preparing to strike.

Just as the filthy sole was about to land on snowy skin, a bamboo cane intervened. An old man coughed and said slowly, “This is improper conduct. Could you give this old man some face and let him go just this once?” With that, he actually bowed deeply to Lin Changtian. Straightening, he addressed the crowd, “Many of you must know me. I am Wei Shaoqing, one of the Ten Elders. Today, I failed in my duty to teach my grandson; he has caused you all trouble. If anyone here has been injured, come to the Wei residence for compensation. I apologize for this disturbance.”

Lin Changtian looked long at the old man, then set the shoe aside and rose. “Since you put it that way, take the boy home and discipline him. We’re from the Central North—if we’ve given offense, I hope you’ll forgive us.” His tone was as even as ever, but he put special emphasis on “Central North.”

Wei Shaoqing’s eyes flickered with surprise. He tapped his cane three times, yanked Wei Ziqing up, pondered briefly, then smiled and nodded to Lin Changtian before leading his grandson away.

Seeing that there would be no further conflict, Chen Mo let out a sigh of relief, patting his chest. “That old man’s presence was suffocating. Even in the Central North I’ve heard of Wei Shaoqing. Lucky we didn’t end up fighting.”

Lin Changtian shook his head, said nothing, and took the little girl by the hand to leave. In his heart, nothing mattered more than easing her grief at losing her mother.

...

The little girl led them home, rushed straight to her room, and shut herself in. From inside came the muffled sound of sobbing, long suppressed.

The house was small and plain, but the furnishings revealed a quiet elegance. On the tea table were some photographs—Lin Changtian looked through them all; every one was of mother and daughter.

He sighed even more heavily.

Truth be told, Lin Changtian, who had been an orphan since childhood, had no idea how to comfort someone suffering the loss of a loved one. All he could do was stand outside her door, knocking softly again and again.

At last, worn down by his “persistence,” a faint light appeared from beneath the door.

Lin Changtian entered. He had rehearsed countless things to say, but when he saw that helpless little face, all words became unnecessary. The girl looked at him, clutching her teddy bear tightly—the last gift from her mother.

“In truth, um… I’m sorry.” In the end, only those three words came out. The girl’s eyelashes were lovely; even as tears fell, their radiance remained undimmed.

She looked up at Lin Changtian through those lashes.

He sighed, scratching his head vigorously. He had faced so many worries lately that his hair was falling out—unlike most, his baldness started at the back. Seeing this, the little girl dried her tears, took a deep breath, and, trying to sound grown-up, said, “Thank you for helping me today. If there’s anything of value in this house, please take it as payment. Otherwise, would you mind leaving? I’d like to be alone for a while.”

Lin Changtian ignored her, sat down, and began humming a tune. The girl puffed out her cheeks, holding back tears. “Please, leave.”

He kept singing—just as poorly as before, just as persistent.

“I’m already an orphan—what more do you want?” The girl’s tears finally broke free, spilling down her cheeks as she sobbed.

Still Lin Changtian sang. When her crying grew louder than his voice, he raised his hand and knocked her gently on the head, unconcerned. “Pfft, what’s so special about being an orphan? I’ve been one since I was little.”

The girl jerked her head up, staring at him in surprise, temporarily forgetting her grief.

Seeing her tears had stopped, Lin Changtian cocked his head, showing off like a child with a prized possession. “See? I’ve been an orphan since I was small and I’m just fine. You are too now. Why don’t we stick together? That way, neither of us will be alone! What do you say?” He held out his little finger for her to hook.

Almost involuntarily, the girl reached out and linked her pinky with his.