C2 I Just Want to Live Well

Could it be Eldest Uncle arriving?

No, the rhythm of the knocking was steady, neither too light nor too heavy, unhurried. This wasn't Eldest Uncle's way.

Eldest Uncle, in Yang Xuan's recollections, was a man of extreme seriousness, unwavering resolve, and a touch of brutishness. His arrivals were always marked by the door swinging open without ceremony. His treatment of Yang Xuan was invariably harsh. Aside from the comparatively spacious quarters Yang Xuan occupied, the provisions for his sustenance and attire were scarcely better than those of a servant. And yet, Yang Xuan had never truly experienced the privileges due to a scion of the Yang family lineage. Accustomed to this over the years, he bore no resentment.

Still, certain mysteries gnawed at him. Why was he alone among the Yangs confined to his courtyard, forbidden to step out on his own? And his parents—where were they? He had heard they were dead, but how and where did they die? Why was he not allowed to visit their graves?

Answers to these questions eluded him; the Yangs remained tight-lipped. Consequently, Yang Xuan grew reticent over time, finding solace in his own world of books and reverie.

His room was filled with old tomes, gifts from his aunt the previous year. Aunt Yang Qianxue, punctual as the seasons, would bring a stack of books each year, guiding him on where to begin. Upon her departure, she'd reclaim the previous year's collection.

This ritual had persisted for nearly a decade. Yet, it wasn't time for the annual exchange. He had only perused the books twice in the last six months, many details still eluding his grasp. He needed to pore over them a few more times. So, what brought Aunt Qianxue here now?

After drying his hands, he opened the door to find Yang Qianxue indeed standing there.

He greeted her with due respect.

"Come in, let's talk."

Yang Qianxue stepped briskly inside, beckoning Yang Xuan to come closer. She fixed her gaze on him and inquired, "Do you wish to leave?"

"Leave?"

Yang Xuan was momentarily taken aback. Where would he go if he left? Was he to leave the house or the entire Yang family? Would he return after some time, or would he depart forever, never to see them again?

"You must leave the Yang family and never return."

Yang Qianxue's voice carried a gravity that Yang Xuan had never heard from her before. He pondered the reason behind her change in demeanor, but her next words cut through his musings.

"You're curious about how your parents died, aren't you? And why the Yang family treats you the way they do?"

"Yes." Yang Xuan reflected deeply, as if reaching a new understanding. He then said, "But it's okay if I never find out. I have no desire for revenge. The book says that if a person seeks vengeance, waiting ten years is not too late. Yet, it also says that if people continue to retaliate against each other, when will it ever end?"

Yang Qianxue was taken aback.

Was this the mindset of a sixteen-year-old? Or did he simply lack any real connection or emotion towards his parents? Could it be that he was incapable of harboring vengeful thoughts, or was he intentionally speaking such words?

In a flash, Yang Qianxue's mind raced with possibilities. However, upon seeing the youth's bright, profound, and earnest eyes, she realized how far off the mark she was.

He was merely an innocent young man, a blank slate. Unexposed to the world, he was unaware of the depths of human malice. Could it be that he was free from such twisted thoughts? His words likely mirrored the purity of his heart.

"So, do you wish to step out of this courtyard, to leave the Yang family behind?" Yang Qianxue revisited her earlier question, this time with a gentleness in her tone, fearful that a louder voice might startle him.

"I don't want to."

Yang Xuan's response surprised Yang Qianxue once more.

"Why?"

"Because I want to live." He paused, likely content with his lot in life. A smile slowly spread across his face as he added, "I want to live well, just as I am now."

The Wei Kingdom was a minuscule nation on this vast continent. In comparison to the other mighty states of the Central Plains, the Wei Kingdom was an ant among elephants. With so many cultivators already here, one could only wonder how many more there were in the other great countries of the Central Plains.

For ordinary folks in lesser nations, and even for Immortal Cultivators like Yang Qianxue, the thought was inconceivable. How could an unarmed, average mortal survive in a world he hadn't encountered in sixteen years?

The odds were against him.

Yang Qianxue was acutely aware of the Immortal Cultivation World's harshness and how cultivators viewed ordinary people as insignificant. Often, laws were a burden only to the powerless. Should a conflict arise between cultivators and mortals, the authorities would invariably side with the cultivators. Even if a cultivator took the life of a mortal, under the legal codes of the Wei Kingdom, it was hardly a crime.

In her haste, she had overlooked these harsh realities.

"What is it that you desire?" Yang Qianxue inquired once more.

"I wish to cultivate!" declared Yang Xuan, his usually placid eyes now sparkling with fervor. He envisioned the sky-soaring cultivators from the tales he'd read, his gaze igniting with passion, "Aunt, is it possible for you to teach me the ways of cultivation?"

"No!" Yang Qianxue responded, her refusal unwavering.

Yang Xuan was puzzled but refrained from questioning her. Given Yang Qianxue's affection for him, she would have instructed him already if it were within her means.

There had to be a compelling reason for her refusal.

Yang Xuan's face betrayed a hint of dejection, but Yang Qianxue remained silent. As she prepared to leave, she handed him a hefty pouch of coins.

Clutching the pouch, the intensity in Yang Xuan's eyes cooled, his expression turning stoic. His grip tightened, warping the coins within. Eventually, he tossed the pouch aside, near the wall's base.

Moments later, he shuddered, drenched in a cold sweat as the realization of his actions set in.

"I've lost control again."

Furrowing his brow, Yang Xuan gazed at his hand and murmured to himself.

He eyed the crumpled pouch with remorse, picked it up, and tucked it into his pocket.

Then, he hurried inside and firmly closed the door behind him.