"Fourth Master, Fourth Master, you're awake?!"
When Huang Tian opened his eyes and slowly sat up in bed, the young girl slumped by the bedside started in surprise, which immediately turned into sheer joy. Her fair, tender little hands gripped his arm tightly, as if terrified he would fly away in the blink of an eye.
Seeing her anxious look, Huang Tian patted her hand gently to reassure her, then instructed, "Heng'er, I'm all right now. Just a little hungry. Have Aunt Qin bring me some rice congee."
"Yes, yes! I'll go tell Mother right away!"
Beside herself with joy, the young girl Heng'er sprang to her feet. Gathering up her skirts, she trotted out with light, nimble steps, looking like a fluttering butterfly.
Once she was gone, Huang Tian silently began to sense the spiritual qi of heaven and earth.
*The spiritual qi is abundant, but exceedingly, violently wild!*
*If the spiritual qi of Blue Star is like a docile little rabbit, the spiritual qi of this world is like a ferocious tiger charging and roaring through the mountains.*
*This body—or rather, the body of any normal human—could never directly absorb spiritual qi so violent. No wonder that in the original host's memories, the very first step of this world's cultivation system is to temper the body, refining skin, sinew, and bone before guiding spiritual qi into oneself...*
As he pondered, Heng'er returned carrying a bowl of warm rice congee, followed closely by a wide-eyed Aunt Qin. Aunt Qin was not one to keep her thoughts to herself, blurting out the moment she entered, "Young Master, are you truly all right? Could this be the final rally before..."
With that, she let out a couple of theatrical wails. Seeing Huang Tian ignore her completely to focus on sipping the rice congee Heng'er offered, she gave an embarrassed smile. "I just knew the heavens watch over good men, Young Master! You were bound to pull through! Bound to pull through!"
Slowly finishing the congee, Huang Tian felt waves of warmth spread through his body. He eased out of bed and stepped down to the floor.
*Having transmigrated, the ailments plaguing this body have completely vanished, leaving only a lingering weakness. A bowl of rice congee certainly did wonders to restore my energy and spirits. Moreover, I can confirm the original host was not poisoned; it was years of pent-up resentment compounded by catching a chill that brought him to death's door in just a night or two...*
"Careful, Fourth Master. Don't rush, I'll support you." Heng'er reached out to steady him.
"It's all right. I'll take it slow; I won't fall."
Huang Tian paced slowly from the bedside out through the doorway and stood upon the courtyard's blue pavers. The warm spring sun was gentle, the sky lofty with wisps of cloud, and the small courtyard quiet and secluded—a charming sight in its own right.
Yet lovely as the scenery was, now was no time to admire it. Even if the host's critical illness hadn't been foul play, his most urgent priority was to build up his strength so he could protect himself.
*Though the spiritual qi here is violent and cannot be absorbed for now, preventing me from practicing immortal cultivation methods, and though I haven't seen any of this world's martial arts techniques, there are still ways to make myself stronger...*
He stood in the courtyard with legs naturally set apart, his back straight as a spear. From his mouth came two exceedingly low, resonant hums: "Heng, ha."
An intensely muffled boom of thunder abruptly rumbled from within his chest, as if an invisible thunder hammer were ceaselessly forging his skin, sinew, and bone. The powerful resonance tempered every part of his body...
This was a thunderous body tempering secret technique Huang Tian had improvised from a commanding height, drawing upon eight hundred years of insights accumulated from the late Han world and mimicking the true intent of oscillation and disintegration found in Orthodox Wutu Thunder.
*Buzz, buzz—*
Intense pain and prickling itches surged over him, as though every inch of flesh and bone was repeatedly torn apart and melded back together. Cold sweat beaded from his pores, yet his gaze grew ever brighter and piercingly sharp!
"Heng'er, did you hear thunder?"
Worried about leaving Huang Tian alone in the courtyard lest he fall or hurt himself, Aunt Qin and Heng'er had lingered by the doorframe, watching his peculiar motions. Hearing faint rumbles of thunder, Aunt Qin scratched her head in confusion.
"It... it sounds like it's coming from inside Fourth Master..."
"Inside his body?"
Just as the two were puzzling over it, a loud, mocking voice called out from beyond the courtyard.
"Bastard, I heard you were sick! Are you dead yet?!"
*Bang!*
The courtyard gate was kicked open. A youth wearing a pale green straight robe, jade dangling at his waist and a folding fan fluttering in his hand, barged in trailed by a servant. It was none other than the original host's third elder brother, Huang Jian. At seventeen years old, he was right at the most rebellious, arrogant age.
However, when he saw Huang Tian standing upright and hale in the middle of the yard, the smug arrogance froze on his face. "You're not sick?! Those bastards dared lie to me?"
Confronted with Huang Jian's abuse, Huang Tian wasn't even angry for the moment. Instead, he appraised the boy with an odd look, as if examining an exceptionally bizarre curiosity.
He couldn't help it. Though he had long known that one grain feeds a hundred kinds of people and that the world was full of scumbags of every variety, in all the years he had lived, he truly had never encountered such a bizarre specimen as Huang Jian.
"I don't like the look in your eyes, not one bit!"
Infuriated by Huang Tian's strange stare, Huang Jian felt like a monkey being dragged through the streets for people's amusement, and a fierce wave of humiliation washed over him.
Rolling up his sleeves, he stalked forward step by step, his expression turning vicious. He intended to teach this bastard a harsh lesson, reminding him of the terror of being beaten into submission.
"Don't hit Fourth Master! He just recovered—if you hurt him... hit me instead!"
Heng'er ran out from the doorway, throwing her arms wide in panic to shield Huang Tian, her petite frame standing firm like a hen guarding her chick.
"Third Young Master, you are a gentleman of great magnanimity—please don't lower yourself to Fourth Young Master's level," Aunt Qin hurried over as well, plastering on a well-practiced fawning smile.
"A bastard with filthy slaves—a bunch of rotten wretches, every last one of you! Get out of my way!"
Huang Jian lashed out with a vicious kick aimed at Aunt Qin. Suddenly his whole body stiffened. His right leg was trapped in an iron grip by a hand like a rebar clamp.
Looking up, he met Huang Tian's eyes, calm as a fathomless pool.
*Whoosh—*
In the next instant, Huang Jian's world spun violently. He somersaulted several times through the air before slamming onto the ground with a heavy thud. Blood gushed from a gash on his forehead, and his hair was smothered in dirt.
His head ringing, he instinctively tried to look up and curse, but a black boot came down heavily on top of his head, forcing it down with crushing pressure.
"Truly... sickening."
Grinding his boot into Huang Jian's head brought Huang Tian no real thrill; it felt like stepping in filth, thoroughly revolting.
Silence fell.
Everything that had just unfolded left Aunt Qin, Heng'er, and the servant who had accompanied Huang Jian utterly flabbergasted, as though they had witnessed the impossible.
How could the Fourth Young Master, who had always been meek and helpless, dare strike back—and even swat the Third Young Master down with such effortless ease?
After all, while the Third Young Master was lazy in his martial training and had yet to attain a rank, he had at least developed martial force; ordinary two or three men couldn't even get close to him.
Yet this preposterous scene had unfolded right before their very eyes!
"Y-You! Let go of Third Young Master right now!"
Only when Huang Jian cried out in agony did the servant snap out of his stupor, shouting in panic.
Yet when Huang Tian cast a glance his way, the servant shuddered as if plunged into an ice cellar, trembling so violently that the words died in his throat.
Feeling Huang Jian still squirming underfoot, Huang Tian stomped down once on the back of his head. With a single strike, the boy blacked out, collapsing limp on the ground like a dead dog.
Chapter 47