C4 The Thighs Were the King.

A pungent odor invaded his nostrils. Dong Qing'an's fingers trembled as he touched his damp cheeks, a fierce look etched between his brows, yet he could only bear it in silence.

The courtyard inside was much more expansive than it appeared from the outside, with stone mountains, meandering streams, and peach blossoms blooming in spring, all enveloped in a subtle, poetic fragrance. Yet, the black-bricked, white-walled silence lent it a desolate air.

The servants filed back to the courtyard, each casting a meaningful glance at him as they parted, their dwellings not far from one another.

Chen Zhuo stopped by for a brief chat before Elder Fu summoned him to the main hall.

Following the winding pavilion, Chen Xiaozhi led Xiaocao to the Bamboo Fragrance Pavilion. The courtyard was modest, spanning just two to three hundred meters, but it was more than sufficient for the siblings. Flanking them were two side rooms and a kitchen dedicated to the servants' cooking. Upon entering, Chen Xiaozhi was greeted by stark emptiness: a bed, a simple table, and chairs were all that remained. When he first arrived, the pavilion was not like this; now, anything of value had been scavenged by others in the courtyard. Xiaocao's room suffered the same fate, a sorry sight indeed.

After bathing Xiaocao and tucking her into bed for a much-needed rest, Chen Xiaozhi returned to his room, his face set in a grave expression.

It was time to deduce the identity of the murderer who had claimed the life of his predecessor, the original owner of this body.

Memory told him that four nights ago, he had been abducted from this very room in his sleep, losing consciousness and ultimately his life. The disparity in strength between him and his assailant was vast, the events unfolded rapidly, and the memories were frustratingly vague. But what sort of place was the Hidden Dragon Institute? In all of Crowfield, only a handful could infiltrate such a place and strike at him.

To those few, he was unknown, insignificant as a speck of dust.

He could rule out some suspects.

Then, abruptly, a blurred face surfaced in Chen Xiaozhi's mind, causing his eyelids to twitch. He strained to discern the features, but they remained elusive. This face, which had appeared upon his awakening from the coffin, was familiar yet indistinct.

"Could it be him?" Chen Xiaozhi's gaze darkened, a wave of emotions stirring within him, his voice tinged with doubt.

Bang! Bang!

Lost in thought, he was roused by a knock at the door.

"Come in," Chen Xiaozhi called out, gathering his thoughts and rising to his feet. The door swung open to reveal a stooped silhouette, a middle-aged man with thinning hair, clad in the dark green robe exclusive to the Hidden Dragon Institute's servants. Nearing fifty, his visage bore the wear of someone much older.

"Uncle," Chen Xiaozhi exclaimed, a surge of warmth flooding through him at the sight of the man. Apart from Xiaocao, he was the dearest person in Chen Xiaozhi's life, having cared for him since birth. Despite being a servant, he was more a father figure, never leaving Chen Xiaozhi's side, attending to his every need. Even when Chen Xiaozhi was exiled to the remote reaches of Crowfield, this man had resolutely followed, fearing for his well-being.

"Young Master, you're okay... you're really okay... thank heavens." Uncle gazed at the resurrected Chen Xiaozhi, his eyes reddening and voice trembling as tears streamed down uncontrollably. His clothes were disheveled, adorned with bits of leaves, clearly having rushed here in haste. He stepped forward, his calloused hands gently touching Chen Xiaozhi, his face a mix of relief and a hint of guilt.

"It's all my fault. Your mother entrusted you to me, and I... I..." Uncle blamed himself, his mutterings filled with regret. He had witnessed all the hardships Chen Xiaozhi endured at the Hidden Dragon Institute. Yet, as a mere gardener, he felt powerless. He often bore the brunt of the nobles' children's bullying, preferring to suffer himself rather than let Chen Xiaozhi be harmed.

"Uncle, it's not your fault. Look, I'm fine..." Chen Xiaozhi reassured him, aware of the deep impact his supposed death had on the man.

"I'll go make you something delicious!" After a bit more conversation, Uncle suddenly remembered something and quickly turned to head for the kitchen.

Chen Xiaozhi watched as Uncle pulled a packet wrapped in oiled paper from his pocket, a small smile playing on his lips. Though a prince by birth, his past timidity had made him an easy target. The daily meals served by the servants were bland and barely palatable, to say the least. But Uncle often came to his aid, sneaking him treats from the dining hall, risking punishment for these small acts of kindness.

He had to grow stronger.

This resolve flickered through Chen Xiaozhi's mind once more.

Soon, smoke wafted from the kitchen. Chen Xiaozhi settled back in front of his bed, summoning the divine alchemist system to delve into his studies. To gain strength, he needed a wealth of medicinal herbs, which meant substantial financial resources. But confined within the Hidden Dragon Institute, with attendants at his beck and call and no means to leave, he was penniless.

"I can't stay trapped here," Chen Xiaozhi's eyes shone with determination.

Before long, Uncle returned, bearing a steaming pot of aromatic herb chicken, his face beaming with joy. Chen Xiaozhi roused Xiaocao, and the three of them gathered around the table, their laughter filling the room.

"Eat up," Uncle encouraged, serving the siblings generously while he himself sat back, not touching his chopsticks. Catching Chen Xiaozhi's inquisitive look, he chuckled, "I've already eaten."

"Brother, eat up," Xiaocao chimed in.

Chen Xiaozhi patted her head affectionately and began to eat, though his pace was leisurely compared to Xiaocao, who was already gleefully greasy.

...

In the Hidden Dragon Institute, the Divine Fragrance Pavilion stood roughly a hundred meters from the Bamboo Fragrance Pavilion.

Dung Qing'an stood silently in the drizzle, head tilted back, allowing the cool raindrops to cascade over his face.

A group of young nobles exchanged glances, lingering behind him, none daring to speak.

After all, the humiliation Dung Qing'an suffered at the hands of Chen Xiaozhi today had left him seething with rage. Had they been in his shoes, they'd be fuming.

"Brother Dong?"

After a moment, Zheng Songbai, who hailed from a family of third-grade officials and had a good rapport with Dong Qing'an, stepped forward and softly called out to the tall, young man.

Dong Qing'an remained stoic.

"That Chen Xiaozhi is utterly vile. It's as if he's consumed the heart of a bear and the gall of a leopard, daring to provoke the Crown Prince. He must be out of his mind, thinking he's safe in his coffin. Does he really believe that with the Sage King here, we'd be too scared to touch him? I refuse to believe the Sage King will stay at the Hidden Dragon Institute forever!" Zheng Songbai, feigning extreme outrage, began to chastise loudly, while simultaneously signaling to the others with a glance.

The crowd quickly chimed in with supportive shouts.

"Crown Prince, please don't be upset. We'll find an opportunity to take Chen Xiaozhi down!"

"Yeah! We'll chop off his hands and feed them to the dogs!" blurted one of them, who then realized he might have touched a nerve with Dong Qing'an. He clamped his mouth shut and cautiously eyed Dong Qing'an.

At last, Dong Qing'an let out a soft chuckle, opened his eyes, and caught the falling rain in his hand. Turning slowly, his icy stare swept over each face present. The youths instinctively bowed their heads in silence under his gaze.

"What happened today? Why does it seem like you all think I've been bullied?" Dong Qing'an asked calmly.

"Nothing happened today. We didn't see anything," Zheng Songbai quickly responded, prompting a flurry of head shaking from the group, as if their heads might detach from their necks.

"Let's go. I've had a feast prepared for us at the pavilion," Dong Qing'an said indifferently, leading the way down the stone path with Zheng Songbai and the rest following suit.

"Your Highness... He..." They had braced for an outburst from Dong Qing'an, but his composure caught them off guard. A young man discreetly tugged at Zheng Songbai's sleeve, whispering his surprise.

"You're underestimating Brother Dong. He's from a distinguished lineage, always surrounded by the capital's elite and the royal descendants, adept in the art of strategy. As the duke's sole heir, he'd be wasting his life if he couldn't keep his composure. Just wait and see, Chen Xiaozhi's fate this time will be anything but ordinary," Zheng Songbai replied quickly, catching up to Dong Qing'an and dismissing the conversation.

The group was eager to indulge in a grand meal and put the day's troubles behind them.

However, just as they stepped out, they came face-to-face with the last person they wanted to see—Chen Xiaozhi!

Dong Qing'an halted in his tracks.

"Ah, everyone's here. How wonderful!" Chen Xiaozhi had spotted Dong Qing'an's group and had headed straight for them.

Now, Dong Qing'an's gaze towards Chen Xiaozhi was like looking at a dead man. He knew that once the Sage King departed, Chen Xiaozhi's time as a lackey would come to an end, hehe...

"Is there a problem?" With Chen Zhuo absent, Dong Qing'an's words were icy.

He wasn't concerned about Chen Xiaozhi stirring up more trouble; he was determined to repay any affronts tenfold.

"Don't look so grim, we're all brothers here. Cheer up," Chen Xiaozhi brazenly said, slinging an arm around Dong Qing'an's shoulder as if they were the best of friends, and flashed a broad grin at Zheng Songbai and the others. Somehow, his demeanor made the youths' hearts race with a sense of foreboding.

Ever since Chen Xiaozhi came back from the dead, his behavior had taken a turn for the bizarre.

"Listen up, everyone! Tomorrow's my birthday, and I'm planning to throw a big bash with plenty of drinks right here in the courtyard," Chen Xiaozhi announced with glee, oblivious to the incredulous stares he was receiving.

"Chen Xiaozhi... Brother Zhi, we all know you well, and I remember your birthday... it's already passed, hasn't it?" piped up the chubby guy who had been terrified by Chen Xiaozhi at the cemetery, his face darkening as he nearly let slip a curse before hastily rephrasing.

Chen Xiaozhi let out a wistful sigh, "Yes, my birthday isn't today. It's just been postponed a bit, you know, due to a few things coming up. I hope you all can be understanding."

Postponed a bit?

It's been several months already, hasn't it?

"I was thinking of using the happy event tomorrow to dispel some of the bad luck I've been carrying around! The Royal Uncle will be there too, so make sure you don't show up late," Chen Xiaozhi added, before revealing his true motive, "If you're really tied up and can't make it, that's fine too. Just make sure someone delivers your gift money to me. I'm not fussy about the amount; it's the thought that counts, and I'll be content with that."

"But then again, with the Royal Uncle in attendance, giving too little might not look good. I mean, I am part of the royal family. Without a few dozen gold leaves, wouldn't that tarnish the family's reputation? Sigh!" he concluded, smirking to himself in a rather shameless fashion.

So, it was all about the money. The crowd had an epiphany.

And he had the gall to ask for it so brazenly. Just how shameless could he get?

Some were seething with frustration. Chen Xiaozhi was shamelessly clinging to the coattails of the Sage King.

Wasn't this just a thinly veiled form of extortion?