C2 Don't Think about Causing Trouble.

The drizzle fell, casting a cool, gray veil over the scene. As the young nobles of the Hidden Dragon Institute turned back to gaze at the gaping hole dug into the grave mound, their eyes then shifted to Chen Xiaozhi. Standing there, his face smeared with mud and his body caked in grime, he devoured his food with gusto. A sinister aura seemed to emanate from him, deterring anyone from coming too close.

"Don't just watch me eat, join in! It's pouring out here, and it's no small feat for you all to stand vigil at my grave," Chen Xiaozhi said between mouthfuls, his manners far from genteel. He felt as though he could consume an entire pig, having been confined in a coffin for several days. Hunger was just one issue; his limbs barely responded to his commands.

A few meters away, his peers eyed him warily, their gazes intense. Chen Xiaozhi's grin, however, sent them stumbling backward in terror, as if they feared he might leap at them at any moment.

"Xiaozhi... you... how is this possible?" The man in green, who had intended to depart, stared at Chen Xiaozhi in utter disbelief, astonished by his unexpected resurrection. He had, after all, confirmed the lifelessness of Chen Xiaozhi's body himself. By the time he had arrived, his nephew had been long dead.

The girl who had been by his side now clung to Chen Xiaozhi, her smile radiant and her joy unmistakable. She tugged at his sleeve, incessantly calling him 'Brother.'

"I did die, but it seems the King of Hell had no use for me and sent me back," Chen Xiaozhi quipped after polishing off the pastries from the servant's box. Wiping his mouth, he let out a contented burp. While answering the Royal Uncle's queries, his gaze wandered past the onlookers, taking in his surroundings and sneakily noting their attire.

He had indeed crossed into another time.

Since emerging from the grave, Chen Xiaozhi's emotions had steadied. He now possessed the memories of his former life and understood the world he found himself in. His entrance into this life was certainly unconventional, thanks largely to the young men before him, his contemporaries with their extraordinary backgrounds. The name Chen Xiaozhi bridged his two lives, and while his death was closely tied to the Hidden Dragon Institute, it wasn't the direct cause. His former self had a powerful patron: he was a direct-blood prince!

The sole blemish on his record was his unrecognized status as a prince—in plain terms, he was born out of wedlock.

It's worth noting that the ruling surname of the Vrening Dynasty was Chen, and his biological father was none other than the Plume Emperor, revered by the populace. In theory, with such a distinguished lineage, Chen Xiaozhi should have enjoyed a life of opulence from birth. Yet, after integrating his memories, he realized the extent of his former self's misfortune. His mother was a nameless servant girl, and he was the unintended result of the Plume Emperor's drunken indiscretion. From the start, his existence was shunned by the royal family, who went to great lengths to conceal him, ultimately banishing him to Crowfield to fend for himself within the confines of the Hidden Dragon Institute.

Certainly, his status as the Plume Emperor's illegitimate son was no secret among the royal family and the influential clans of the imperial court. Perhaps on a day when the Plume Emperor was feeling particularly remorseful—maybe after a door-slamming incident—he allowed him to don the dragon robe. Though not granting him the title of prince, it was a silent acknowledgment of his status.

But really, what good did that do? Could his life get any more tragic? Chen Xiaozhi mused, feeling like a neglected teenager starved for affection. Moreover, the youths residing in the Hidden Dragon Institute hailed from noble lineages. Take Dung Qing'an, for instance, whose father was a prominent duke in the court. These heirs were meant to revel in the capital's splendors, yet here they were in Crowfield, relegated due to their grave offenses. The Hidden Dragon Institute was essentially the royal family's way of disciplining wayward nobles and officials' offspring. Naturally, the offenses of those confined there were no trifling matters.

Consider Dung Qing'an—why would the son of a duke willingly travel to the backwater of Crowfield, thousands of miles from the capital? It all stemmed from an incident in the capital: the mysterious death of a high-ranking official's sole legitimate son. Once the scandal broke, all signs pointed to Dung Qing'an. Had it not been for his father's formidable influence, he might well have been behind bars, especially considering the deceased official was a formidable figure with significant clout in the court.

"What a relief it is to see Brother Zhi safe and sound. My heart is truly comforted," came a voice as refreshing as a spring breeze, pulling Chen Xiaozhi from his reverie.

Chen Xiaozhi arched an eyebrow and turned to face Dung Qing'an. After a moment's scrutiny, confirming that Chen Xiaozhi was no apparition, the young men's senses slowly returned. The atmosphere was thick with mixed emotions, but one fact remained—Chen Xiaozhi was alive.

"Stay away from my brother, you villain!" Before Chen Xiaozhi could utter a word, the girl beside him scolded Dung Qing'an with fierce brows. She stretched out her frail arms, shielding Chen Xiaozhi, her stance one of unwavering protection. Witnessing this, Chen Xiaozhi felt a pang of bitterness. He inwardly chastised his former self for living so pitifully. Despite being a royal bastard, he was still of royal blood, yet he had been bullied to the point of abject misery in the Hidden Dragon Institute. Initially, he and Dung Qing'an had been close, referring to each other as brothers. But that was before he realized how naively he had been manipulated. He had even given away all his cultivation pills, meant for his personal use, to Dung Qing'an. To his shock, he later discovered Dung Qing'an feeding those pills to dogs and mocking Chen Xiaozhi with the bullies.

From that moment, his former self realized that all the misfortunes he had suffered at the Hidden Dragon Institute were orchestrated by Dung Qing'an. Without any personal vendetta, he couldn't fathom why Dung Qing'an would treat him so cruelly.

When he confronted him, all Chen Xiaozhi's former self received was a vicious beating and insults that left him battered and bruised.

From then on, the owner of this body lived in a state of gloom, moving through life like a zombie.

Chen Xiaozhi's own suffering was bad enough, but what truly infuriated him was the presence of his ten-year-old sister, Chen Xiaocao. She was the delicate little girl who clung to him with an unwavering dependence, her thin frame barely able to withstand a breeze.

Xiaocao—such a fitting name.

The most unassuming of plants, yet the hardiest of survivors.

Unexpectedly, a glint appeared in Chen Xiaozhi's eyes, but with a deep breath, he concealed it.

The group of young men, upon hearing his voice, seemed to rally around him as if he were their anchor. They looked at Chen Xiaozhi with a touch of mockery. To them, his demise was a joke, but even in life, he was nothing more than a target for their cruelty. Death might have been a kinder fate.

"Xiaocao, step aside," Chen Xiaozhi said with a gentle curve to his lips, guiding his sister to safety. Her eyes, filled with concern, followed him as she whispered, "Brother..." Her worry was palpable. Despite her youth, the memory of her brother trembling in the presence of Dung Qing'an made her heart ache.

Dung Qing'an was the one who had shattered her brother's life and convictions.

Seeing you so alive brings me joy..." Chen Xiaozhi approached Dung Qing'an, patting his shoulder with a hint of nostalgia.

The crowd was taken aback.

Chen Xiaozhi's face radiated a poise they had never witnessed, transforming him into someone they hardly recognized.

"Zhi, what are you getting at?" Dung Qing'an asked with a crafted elegance, peering into Chen Xiaozhi's eyes. To his dismay, there was no fear there—only a condescending gaze that felt like a thorn in his side.

"What do I mean?" Chen Xiaozhi flashed a grin, revealing his teeth.

Without warning, Chen Xiaozhi's hand flew out, delivering a resounding slap to Dung Qing'an's cheek. The sharp crack echoed, leaving five distinct marks on his face. The room fell into a stunned silence, the air chilling with the gravity of the moment.

"You!"

Dung Qing'an's face stung, his eyes momentarily unfocused from the unexpected blow. As he regained his composure, his genteel expression twisted into one of rage. He looked up to retaliate, but his gaze was drawn to the figure standing to the side—the Royal Uncle, Sage King Chen Zhuo.

Despite being a bastard without formal recognition, Chen Xiaozhi's royal lineage was indisputable.

Sage King Chen Zhuo turned a blind eye to the slap.

"What's wrong with me?" Chen Xiaozhi's smile receded as he towered over the humbled youth, his voice cool and detached.

"Nothing..." Dung Qing'an muttered, his expression blank.

Smack!

Chen Xiaozhi's hand connected once more.

Dung Qing'an stood motionless, eyes shut, fists clenched beneath his sleeves, veins on his forehead standing out. No matter how advanced his Qi Cultivation, he was still just a boy.

Everyone has their pride.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Chen Xiaozhi, as if fueled by a newfound fervor, alternated slaps across Dung Qing'an's once-pristine face. The other youths watched in shock, mouths agape, a cold fear creeping up their spines. They had never seen Dung Qing'an so humiliated, and by Chen Xiaozhi—the one they had always deemed the weakest among them.

No one dared to utter a word. Chen Xiaocao gazed at her brother, momentarily taken aback, but she quickly snapped out of it. With a pout, she burst into tears.

Through her sobs, she swung her tiny fists and yelled, “Go, brother! Knock that jerk out!”

Minutes later, Chen Xiaozhi, his hand throbbing with pain, ceased his assault. By then, the once dashing Dung Qing'an was a disheveled mess, his hair in disarray, his scarf on the ground, and his face marred with bloodstains—courtesy of Chen Xiaozhi's deliberate scratches.

"Seeing you alive and well brings me joy because it means I can crush you slowly, letting you savor the bitter taste of a fall from grace," Chen Xiaozhi sneered, eyeing the bedraggled yet defiant Dung Qing'an, who maintained eye contact and even managed a smile to the end.

"Zhi, you're absolutely right," Dung Qing'an retorted with a sardonic laugh, the malice in his eyes barely contained.

"I stand tall while you bow down. I strike, and you endure," Chen Xiaozhi declared, his gaze shifting from Dung Qing'an to the other young nobles. "That's the gap between us. Alas, it's just the luck of the draw. Not everyone is blessed with a good father." He finished with a smug shrug of his shoulders, clearly reveling in his own words.

This brazen display of arrogance left even the Sage King momentarily dumbfounded. He had always believed Chen Xiaozhi harbored nothing but hatred and bitterness towards his brother. These words were unexpected.

"You show up to my funeral dressed like that, looking for trouble?" Chen Xiaozhi taunted. "Remember this—I can't stand anyone more handsome than me. From now on, whenever I'm around, you'd best keep your distance!"

Silence fell over the crowd.

Was this really the same Chen Xiaozhi they remembered as being so meek to the core? Something didn't quite add up...

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