Volume One: The Awakening of All Things, Eternal Spring in Four Seasons Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Banquet Turmoil (Part Two)

Surrounded by the crowd, Lin Tianci, clad in a dark crimson Tang suit, radiated with a healthy glow as he greeted his guests, the very image of a man at the center of his world. Lin Xi and Mi Lu followed closely behind. Lin Xi caught Mo Wen’s gaze, and with a mischievous glint, stuck out her tongue at him.

As hosts and guests took their seats, Mo Wen found himself directly across from Lin Tianci. Their eyes met briefly, and a middle-aged man seated beside Lin Tianci leaned in to whisper a few words. Lin Tianci paused, glanced at Mo Wen again, and then offered a slight nod.

Rare delicacies flowed onto the table, and Mo Wen’s round table was soon filled. Aside from himself and Zhuo Xin, all were elderly gentlemen. Lin Xi attended to Lin Tianci with diligence, constantly serving him dishes, all the while casting sidelong glances toward Mo Wen.

Lin Tianci wiped his mouth, raised his glass, and stood, his face alight with a gentle smile. “I thank you all for gracing my humble home today. I have lived sixty years—a span of little consequence. My intention was to have a simple reunion with my children, never imagining I would trouble all of you. Please join me in this toast. If I have neglected anyone, I beg your pardon.”

His opening address was dignified, his voice rich and resonant. Though he spoke softly, his words carried through the hall, commanding silence. When he finished, the guests responded in unison.

“Not at all, Uncle Lin! We juniors are truly honored to witness your presence!”

“Uncle Lin’s elegance endures; my father often instructs me to take you as a model!”

Flattery and currying favor are the ways of the world, and on this birthday banquet, they were displayed to the fullest. Mo Wen smiled faintly, content to observe the unfolding scene.

As the feast progressed and the wine flowed, toasts and sycophantic words filled the air. Mo Wen, uncomfortable with such pretension, sat quietly with Zhuo Xin, unmoved by the festivities.

“Aren’t you going to toast Uncle Lin?” Zhuo Xin asked, stuffing half a roast chicken into his mouth and speaking around it.

Mo Wen smiled calmly. “Let’s wait and see. Things aren’t that simple. The real show is yet to come.”

As the banquet reached its peak, Lin Yaoheng produced a green wooden box from his breast pocket and presented it to Lin Tianci with both hands.

“Father, your son has been away for many years, unable to serve you as he should. It is my failing. I have nothing worthy to offer but this: I killed a Po Wang in Japan, took his sea of consciousness, and had a craftsman fuse it into resin to make this amber. I present it to you in honor of your birthday.”

Lin Tianci laughed heartily, well pleased. It was not the amber itself, but that Lin Yaoheng had managed to slay a Po Wang above his rank—truly remarkable.

He opened the box, lifted the amber for all to see. “Yaoheng has made great progress—well done!”

The guests chimed in, praising Lin Yaoheng as unparalleled, calling him a peer of his father and a pride of China. Lin Yaoheng responded with humility, bowing to his elders, his bearing ever more modest.

Next came Lin Xi. She clapped her hands, and Mi Lu brought forth a tray draped with red cloth, setting it before Lin Tianci.

“Father, your daughter has accomplished little. This is half the equity of the coastal Wang family in Jiangnan, valued at about 6.6 billion yuan, presented in honor of your birthday.”

The guests gasped in astonishment. Though such a sum meant little to the Lin family, it was the Wang family’s audacity that impressed. Mo Wen now realized Mi Lu’s journey to Shanghai had been for this purpose.

Lin Tianci accepted the tray and handed it to his attendant, smiling warmly. “It’s the thought that counts, Xi. I’ll accept it. Tell the head of the Wang family to visit Beidu when he has time.”

Mi Lu, nervous and on edge, felt a weight lift from her shoulders. With this, the Wang family had finally secured their connection to the Lins.

With Lin Yaoheng and Lin Xi’s presentations complete, only the youngest son, Lin Guoguo, remained. All eyes turned to the ten-year-old, who fidgeted, face flushed red.

“Father, I have nothing to give.”

The crowd burst into laughter. At his age, dependent on his parents for everything, how could he have anything to offer? His honesty was endearing.

Suddenly, Lin Guoguo’s eyes lit up as he scanned the guests. Spotting Mo Wen, he pointed and declared, “Father, I have a big gift for you—my big sister brought a man home!”

Afraid Mo Wen might miss him, Lin Guoguo leapt up, waving. “Brother-in-law, over here, over here!”

Mo Wen was taken aback, never expecting his introduction to come this way. The crowd’s gaze converged on him as he stood, cupped his fists, and said, “I am Mo Wen from Shanghai. I wish Uncle Lin peace and boundless freedom.”

His words were succinct and meaningful. For a Po Wang, all else is fleeting—only true freedom matters.

Lin Tianci nodded slightly, sighing, “Boundless freedom... I do not know if I will ever reach that state in my lifetime. We’ll see. As a guest today, Yaoheng, see to it he is well received.”

Lin Tianci deliberately avoided mentioning Mo Wen’s relationship with Lin Xi, effectively treating him as any other guest. Seeing this, Lin Xi strode to Mo Wen’s side and, under the gaze of all, took his arm.

“Father, uncles, this is the man I have chosen. I ask for your guidance in the future.”

A warmth filled Mo Wen’s heart. Lin Xi had left herself no retreat, while he had hesitated. Emboldened, he put his arm around her waist and said loudly, “I am honored by Miss Lin’s favor and vow to cherish her for life!”

“Well said! What spirit!”

Not all present were scheming; some guests looked on with genuine admiration for the couple.

Just then, a sarcastic voice rose from a nearby table—Zhuo Yue.

“Wild boy from the south, you know nothing of manners. Whether Uncle Lin accepts you or not, you come empty-handed to his birthday banquet and expect to be the favored son-in-law?”

Mo Wen narrowed his eyes, regarding Zhuo Yue with a half-smile. Calmly, he replied, “I act as I see fit. Who are you to judge? Zhuo Yue, you had best stay in Beidu your whole life, sheltered by your so-called freedom, with no misfortune to befall you—if you’re lucky.”

The threat was naked, his words laced with killing intent. For someone like Zhuo Yue, a mere Shen Shu, Mo Wen could dispatch ten of him with a single slap.

Zhuo Yue flushed with anger. Rumor had it that as the eldest grandson, he had drained his family’s fortune, leaving the third generation of the Zhuo clan without promise—a fact Mo Wen had just exposed. Flustered and humiliated, he spluttered, his demeanor unsightly.

Mo Wen inwardly scoffed. With such limited ability, how dare he make a fool of himself?

With Lin Xi on his arm, Mo Wen strode forward, producing a precious herb he had long prepared from his breast. Lin Xi presented it to Lin Tianci.

“This, sir, is a Zelinyu herb I found in the mountains of Emei in Sichuan. I offer it to you in celebration of your birthday.”

Zelinyu! The hall erupted. Its main virtue was to aid in aligning oneself with the Dao of Heaven, enabling a Po Wang to fully comprehend the will of the heavens—a treasure beyond compare, especially in such a generous quantity.

Lin Xi watched Lin Tianci closely. He hesitated, inclined to refuse, then finally grunted noncommittally. Lin Xi rejoiced in her heart—the gift was accepted!

But then Lin Tianci spoke. “I am too attached to appearances. Though the Zelinyu herb is fine, I cannot accept a gift without merit. Please, take it back.”

Lin Xi, who had been secretly delighted, felt her eyes prickle with tears at his words.

“Brother Lin, even my disciple wouldn’t give me such a thing, but he offers it to you, his future father-in-law. How can you not be content?”

A hearty, robust voice boomed across the hall. Mo Wen relaxed instantly—the dean, Zhao Tiansheng, had arrived!