Chapter 82: The Old Master

After getting into the car, Ling Tian and Mu Qingcheng sat in the back seat, beside them the gifts prepared for the old master—several exquisite pieces of porcelain and calligraphy. Ling Tian suddenly felt a wave of nervousness, a sensation quite foreign to him. He had always been fearless, even when facing foreign legion soldiers alone, he could still joke and laugh. Yet now, he felt awkward and tense. Was this the feeling of a son-in-law visiting his bride’s family? Ling Tian chuckled at himself.

Though their relationship was merely nominal, Ling Tian seemed to have slipped into the role, especially after last night’s events, which had drawn him and Mu Qingcheng closer.

“Ling Tian, Grandpa doesn’t know that you and I are only engaged in name. I hope you’ll cooperate and not let him see through our act, or he’ll surely be upset,” Mu Qingcheng tried to speak gently, but the habits she’d formed over the years couldn’t be changed so quickly.

To others, her words still sounded cold, but Ling Tian didn’t mind. He knew that this was Mu Qingcheng’s way of protecting herself; simply put, a cold woman appeared difficult to approach.

“Arranged marriage, huh!” Ling Tian teased. “You’re being arranged by your grandfather, and I’m being arranged by mine. I suspect the two old men have planned this from the start. We might have to turn this fake engagement into the real thing.”

In the past, Mu Qingcheng would have quickly refuted Ling Tian’s words, but this time, she uncharacteristically remained silent, lowering her head shyly, like a girl whose secret had been discovered, fiddling with her clothes and moving her long, beautiful legs uneasily.

Zhang Ding, listening to their conversation, was somewhat confused, but he knew better than to ask questions he shouldn’t.

“Boss, madam, you’ve been all lovey-dovey since you got in, but haven’t told me where we’re going yet?” Zhang Ding asked, bracing himself.

The word “madam” made Mu Qingcheng’s cheeks flush, but she couldn’t protest, as they were now nominally engaged. “Wait, didn’t I ask Wang Ling to arrange a driver?” Mu Qingcheng noticed the driver was unfamiliar and asked in confusion.

Ling Tian replied, “This is my personal driver. I’ve already sent away the person Wang Ling arranged. Give me the address quickly so Grandpa doesn’t have to wait.”

Mu Qingcheng pursed her lips and told him the address, then briefly recounted some history about the Mu family.

The Mu family was once one of the four great families of Yunhai City, its history stretching back to the Qing dynasty. The ancestors of the Mu family had already established themselves in Yunhai City, prospering and growing stronger through the generations.

During the Republic era, the Mu family reached its peak, becoming the most influential family in Yunhai City.

Later, for various reasons, the Mu family began to decline, though its foundations remained unshaken. The greatest crisis came in recent years, when Mu Qingcheng’s parents died in a plane accident. The family, already thin in numbers, suffered a devastating blow.

The old master of the Mu family, grieved beyond measure at the loss of his children, was deeply affected and exhausted, eventually passing leadership to Mu Qingcheng.

After years of trial and effort, coupled with Mu Qingcheng’s talent and diligence, the Mu family’s businesses slowly began to recover, though there remained a significant gap compared to its former glory.

Listening to Mu Qingcheng’s story made Ling Tian’s nose tingle with emotion. Although Mu Qingcheng spoke lightly about inheriting a battered family enterprise, Ling Tian knew well how difficult it must have been. A vast, troubled family business surrounded by powerful rivals—he could imagine the burden placed on a young woman barely in her twenties. It reminded Ling Tian of his own past; as an orphan, his first challenge was simply survival.

After finishing high school, Ling Tian entered society to work, earn a living, and hoped to support the orphanage. Yet the harsh realities of life battered his young soul. Fortunately, Ling Tian met the old master, who brought him into the mercenary training camp.

Dressed in a crisp new uniform and eating fragrant rice, Ling Tian felt happiness he hadn’t known in years. For a child used to poverty, even a bowl of delicious rice could be moving.

Ling Tian vowed to seize every opportunity to change his fate, training harder than anyone else—while others trained six hours a day, he trained twelve, pushing his body to the limit.

Eventually, Ling Tian topped the rankings and was selected by the old master to join the Thunder Squad, embarking on a wild path.

Recalling the past, Ling Tian felt as though it had happened only yesterday; the memories were still vivid.

“We’ve arrived!” Zhang Ding stopped in front of a residential house.

Ling Tian got out first, then opened the door for Mu Qingcheng, extending his arm and nodding to her.

Mu Qingcheng obediently took Ling Tian’s arm, and the two entered together like a young couple. Zhang Ding, not wanting to disturb them, lit a cigarette and waited in the car.

Shortly after Ling Tian and Mu Qingcheng entered, a shadow passed nearby, pulled out a phone, and said, “Young master, Ling Tian has arrived. You may go in now.”

Zhang Ding, bored and smoking, glanced around and spotted a luxury sedan approaching not far away.

From the outside, this house appeared unremarkable except for its size. But once inside, they found an entirely different world. The place had over two hundred years of history.

A classic courtyard residence with blue bricks and red tiles, circular doorways, three courtyards in succession, and carved wooden corridors. In ancient times, this would have been a mansion, and even today, its value was considerable. As Mu Qingcheng put it, any item from here could be considered an antique.

Standing in the courtyard, Ling Tian felt a sense of time’s passage and a strong atmosphere of antiquity; every part of the house carried the breath of history, making one feel transported to the past.

They walked along the stone-paved path to the pavilion in the center of the courtyard.

In the middle of the pavilion sat a chessboard of white jade, black and white pieces scattered across it. Ling Tian glanced at it and found it to be a dead game: the black pieces dominated, step by step forcing the white pieces into defeat. This was a doomed match. Did the old master perhaps love playing Go?

“Sit down, Grandpa should be here soon,” Mu Qingcheng tugged at the dazed Ling Tian, then lit the nearby incense burner, filling the air with a delicate fragrance. With a pot of good tea, there was an undeniable charm to the moment.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a calm voice said.

Ling Tian looked toward the sound and saw an elderly man approaching, about sixty years old, dressed in a black long robe, with white beard and hair, looking spirited but walking with some difficulty.