Outside the village, at a crossroads, stood a small shop—more of a simple straw shed with a tattered banner as a sign. The owners, a middle-aged couple, sold coarse food and cheap wine. Though it was still early, a table of resting travelers was already seated under the shed. Gu Pinglin led the boy to another table.
The couple recognized Gu Pinglin. The wife, Wang-shi, greeted him warmly. "Little Ninth, did you gather any herbs?"
Gu Pinglin shook his head. "It rained the past few days. I couldn't go out. I'll try again in a couple of days. My brother here is hungry. Auntie, please bring a bowl of rice, some dried tofu, and pickles."
Wang-shi quickly complied. The boy, ravenous, wordlessly devoured the rice without waiting for the side dishes.
Seated beside him, Gu Pinglin studied the vermilion mark between his brows, inwardly marveling.
The future Pearl of the East Sea, the lord of Penglai Island, once reduced to such a state.
This boy was Nan Zhu, the illegitimate son left behind by the lord of Penglai Island during his travels in the Central Plains. Though now adrift, in three years, a great upheaval would occur on Penglai Island. After a bloody purge, the surviving elders would retrieve him and groom him to inherit the island lordship, marking the end of his hardships.
Blessed with extraordinary talent, Nan Zhu would subdue the sects of the East Sea within five years, then ambitiously venture into the Central Plains, achieving considerable success. Unfortunately, his luck ran out when he crossed paths with another genius—a madman among geniuses. Rumor had it that Duan Qingming severed one of his arms, forcing his retreat to the East Sea.
More importantly, in Gu Pinglin's past life, Penglai Island had always been at odds with the Lingxin Sect. After Gu Pinglin became sect leader, Lingxin disciples faced constant obstruction when conducting business in the East Sea. Once Nan Zhu entered the Central Plains, his disdain for the Lingxin Sect grew even more pronounced. Despite Gu Pinglin's efforts, reconciliation proved impossible. Now, the reason was clear—Nan Zhu's deep-seated hatred for the Gu family. Had Duan Qingming not acted first, Nan Zhu would likely have sought revenge himself.
As Nan Zhu finished eating, Gu Pinglin asked Wang-shi for two more bowls.
After the second bowl, Nan Zhu hesitated but didn't reach for more.
Starving yet still exercising restraint—this is a disciplined man. Satisfied, Gu Pinglin spoke once he set down his chopsticks. "Your jade."
Nan Zhu retrieved the jade and placed it on the table, sliding it toward Gu Pinglin with one hand.
As expected, the jade was carved with a coiling dragon on one side and the character "Nan" on the other. Gu Pinglin was now certain of the boy's identity.
"Can you... keep it safe for me?" Nan Zhu suddenly asked. "I'll redeem it when I have money."
Gu Pinglin glanced at it and pushed it back. "This jade is extraordinary. Don't show it lightly, or you'll invite disaster."
Taken aback, Nan Zhu hesitated before shaking his head and sliding it back. "I ate your food..."
"As you've seen," Gu Pinglin said bluntly, "it's not safe with me either."
Recalling Gu Pingsheng's temperament, Nan Zhu paused, then carefully tucked the jade away. "You're called Gu Pinglin?"
Gu Pinglin nodded.
Having witnessed Gu Pingsheng's treatment of him, Nan Zhu roughly guessed his circumstances and felt a pang of sympathy. He had received this child's kindness but could offer nothing in return.
"I'll lend you silver," Gu Pinglin said, producing a silver ingot from his sleeve. Before Nan Zhu could refuse, he added, "But on one condition—if you rise to prominence in the future, repay me a thousand taels."
Rise to prominence? Nan Zhu never expected such words from a child. Stunned, he laughed bitterly. "I can barely survive now. How could I ever rise?"
Unfazed, Gu Pinglin countered, "So you believe you'll never amount to anything and don't dare agree?"
A flash of resentment crossed Nan Zhu's eyes. "You're just a child. What do you know?"
"I am just a child," Gu Pinglin echoed. "A child dares to dream. Do you not?"
Nan Zhu froze, his smile fading.
"There he is! Young Master Ninth, why do you keep running off?" A Gu family servant shouted from afar.
Gu Pinglin frowned upon seeing them.
Gu Pingsheng, often scolded by Gu Jin for neglecting cultivation, shouldn't have dared to report his humiliation at the hands of his younger brother. Had something else happened?
Quickly assessing the situation, Gu Pinglin waved the servant over.
As the servant approached, Nan Zhu abruptly pocketed the silver. "I'll repay you," he said flatly, then turned and left.
He didn't let pride stop him from accepting what he needed—wise. Gu Pinglin admired that. Giving away all his savings wasn't for repayment—the silver meant little to him, and it was better to make a friend than an enemy.
"Master wants you back! Hurry!" The servant urged impatiently, showing no respect.
Unbothered by the rudeness, Gu Pinglin walked ahead.
In the study, Gu Jin sat at his desk, his expression unexpectedly pleasant. Gu Pinglin deduced it wasn't bad news and stepped forward to bow.
"Surprisingly, the sixth young master of the Duan family remembers you and has personally written you a letter," Gu Jin said amiably, handing him a letter.
A letter? From Duan Qingming? Gu Pinglin was momentarily stunned.
The envelope was thick, its seal already broken—Gu Jin had clearly read it. Gu Pinglin accepted it but didn't open it immediately. "I can't read."
Gu Jin was struck with a headache. He had neglected this son too much, never realizing he was this unrefined. Duan Qingming was a noble young master—if the gap between them was too wide, how long would his interest last? Lady Zhou was too busy with her jealousy to consider the bigger picture. Suppressing his anger, Gu Jin said coldly, "Then learn. Starting tomorrow, attend the family school. No slacking!"
Gu Pinglin wasn't lying—in his past life, he had been illiterate before joining the Lingxin Sect, learning characters one by one from his master and senior brother. He couldn't suddenly become literate now, and hiding it forever wasn't feasible. The family school was a perfect excuse.
"Young Master Duan remembers you—that's your good fortune," Gu Jin continued, coughing awkwardly before adding indifferently, "For now, we can't be impolite. Since you can't write, I've asked your third brother to reply on your behalf."
To Gu Jin, his other sons were more reliable. Seeing Gu Pinglin's silence, Gu Jin assumed he was displeased but, knowing his timid nature, simply asserted his paternal authority. "You're all part of the Gu family. Brothers should share everything. Don't fuss over trivial matters."
The Gu family? Gu Pinglin had no comment.
In his past life, after becoming sect leader, Gu Jin had brought his other sons to the Lingxin Sect. Out of familial obligation, Gu Pinglin hadn't pursued the matter, focusing instead on dealing with Duan Qingming. Later, when his cultivation was crippled and he fled, Gu Jin and the others immediately disowned him and even joined the hunt.
Gu Pinglin wasn't a genius like Duan Qingming, but he wasn't stupid. As a child, bullied at home, he knew how to please these people but, stubborn by nature, refused to bow his head, enduring more hardships than most.
This life?
Gu Pinglin smirked.
This life, he still couldn't relinquish his pride—that was the difference between him and Duan Qingming. The path of cultivation tolerated few shackles. These mortal ties would have to be severed sooner or later.
As for who replied to Duan Qingming's letter, Gu Pinglin didn't care. He simply said, "Yes."
Meeting his calm gaze, Gu Jin inexplicably felt guilty and scowled. "I heard you've been chopping firewood in the kitchen every day? Hmph! A member of the Gu family doing servants' work—just like your mother..." Catching himself, Gu Jin said sternly, "Do it again, and I'll break your legs!"
Gu Pingsheng, eavesdropping outside, taunted as Gu Pinglin exited, "The son of a maid will always be a maid's son—born to serve!"
Ignoring him, Gu Pinglin returned to his room and opened the letter.
Duan Qingming was an eccentric, and his letter was no exception—ten pages long, no less. No wonder Gu Jin took it so seriously.
Even with two lifetimes of experience, Gu Pinglin couldn't help twitching at the contents.
The letter wasn't in standard script but in elegant cursive, rambling about trivialities—his aunt's cousin buying a bird, two fish dying in the pond—nonsense that filled ten pages. Gu Jin must have been speechless. Yet, as a child's letter, it was flawless, just like its writer—a normal facade masking abnormality.
The letter's purpose lay not in its content.
Gu Pinglin put it away, pleased.
He hadn't expected Duan Qingming to pull this stunt—less help, more deliberate disruption of his peace. Playing mind games at such a young age—perhaps the rival he awaited would emerge sooner than expected.
Compared to the later, unfathomable Duan Qingming, this green version was far more endearing.
There were many ways to train the body. Gu Jin's firewood ban had no effect. Though he didn't let Gu Pinglin reply, his word was law. The next morning, Gu Pinglin went to the family school unhindered. Once the letter had served its purpose in securing his "literacy," he discarded it.
Within a month, Gu Pinglin could "read" fluently, astounding the tutor, who lavished praise on him before Gu Jin, suggesting a scholarly path. Gu Jin dismissed the idea, and Gu Pinglin couldn't care less—mortal honors paled beside the Great Dao.
Two days later, Gu Jin summoned him again.
This time, his expression was grim. He studied Gu Pinglin for a long moment before saying slowly, "Young Master Duan... wishes for you to reply."
This, too, was expected. Gu Pinglin smiled slightly. As he'd hoped, the troublesome child had set his sights on him.
Gu Pingxin, being of similar age to Duan Qingming, had written a decent reply. Yet Duan Qingming had taken no interest. Left with no choice, Gu Jin instructed, "The tutor says your handwriting is passable. Write a reply and show me first."
Lowering his eyes, Gu Pinglin suddenly said, "I think it's best not to reply."
Gu Jin rebuked, "Nonsense!"