Chapter Fourteen: The Birthday Banquet Begins

Lin Feng stood at the bedroom door, his arms full of bedding and clothes, his expression cold and severe.

“You used to just be a bit cowardly, and I could tolerate that because you’d gone through a family disaster. But look at you now—a man with no sense, childish and laughable, a complete good-for-nothing.

“I don’t expect you to be better than Wang Fan’s boyfriend, but you insist on playing petty tricks, trampling your own dignity and dragging mine down with you. Get out—I don’t want to see you for another moment!”

Yao Qianqian’s gaze was icy, devoid of any warmth a wife might show her husband.

As the saying goes, nothing is more heartbreaking than utter disappointment. At this moment, Yao Qianqian was truly disillusioned with Lin Feng.

Weak, powerless!

Once a young master, now penniless and disgraced!

Consumed by envy, putting on airs for the sake of face—utterly ignorant!

How could this man be her husband? A wave of suffocating frustration threatened to choke her.

Lin Feng looked at her with a detached calm. At last, he saw things clearly.

How easily people change.

Even after living another life, could anyone truly change at their core?

“Fine. From today, I’ll sleep in the study. And Yao Qianqian, there’s something I want you to know: our worlds have long since diverged. In this life or any other, I, Lin Feng, owe you nothing—never have, never will.”

With those words, Lin Feng turned and left, without a trace of reluctance.

The moment he turned away, Yao Qianqian felt a sudden, inexplicable ache in her heart. She hadn’t expected her outburst to bring not relief, but pain.

…

Lin Feng entered the study, spread his bedding, and sat cross-legged. He took out the Kunwu Sword and laid it across his palm, gently stroking its blade.

“Seventy thousand years, old friend. We fought side by side for seventy thousand years, and now, unexpectedly, we meet again on Earth.”

The sword trembled, emitting a low hum, as if in response to Lin Feng’s words.

Understanding the meaning in its song, Lin Feng’s face lit with a radiant smile. He forced a drop of blood from his fingertip and let it fall upon the blade.

A clear metallic chime rang in his mind, and Lin Feng sensed a surge of joy emanating from the Kunwu Sword.

With a flick of his wrist, he spun the sword in an intricate, graceful flourish—at once ethereal and powerful.

In its wake, the air rippled with waves, the sword’s essence resonating with profound truths, stirring awe in the heart of any who beheld it.

Thus, the bond was sealed.

The Kunwu Sword now felt as if it were a third arm, deft and responsive to his every thought.

Setting the sword aside, Lin Feng drew from his pocket the piece of jade marrow once hidden within the Guanyin statue.

Jade marrow, the rarest essence of jade, was slightly inferior to spirit stones but still brimming with spiritual energy—a great boon for Lin Feng in his current state.

Cradling the jade marrow in his palm, Lin Feng sat and began to meditate, refining its energy.

Soon, a whirlwind formed around him. Countless particles of spiritual power, like fireflies, were drawn into his body, gathering into surging rivers that flowed unceasingly within.

Even from outside, one could faintly hear the mighty rush of these inner currents.

After several hours, as if a dam had burst, the resilient spiritual energy forged by the Three Pure True Spirit Technique broke through his second meridian—the Pericardium Meridian.

By morning, the jade marrow in his hand had visibly shrunk. With a long exhale, Lin Feng felt his body lighten, his spirit at ease.

In the days that followed, Lin Feng barely left his room, dedicating himself to diligent cultivation. Only when the jade marrow was completely consumed did he finally stop.

His cultivation had soared to the peak of the third tier, First-Grade Meridian Spirit Adept—a remarkable leap.

Soon, the seventieth birthday of Elder Yao arrived.

…

Dressed in their finest, Lin Feng and his family arrived at the Tianhe Hotel, a three-star venue in Binhai City.

“Lin Feng, listen to me. No matter how Yao Xingye or Yao Weiguo humiliate you today, you’re to endure it. The less you say, the fewer mistakes you’ll make—don’t embarrass us!” his mother-in-law admonished him at the hotel entrance, her tone imperious and commanding.

She paid no mind to the passersby casting curious glances at Lin Feng, carrying herself with all the airs of a queen.

Lin Feng nodded silently, his heart growing colder.

His father-in-law patted him on the shoulder and sighed.

Sometimes marriage is like a fortress: those outside think happiness lies within and long to enter; those inside find it a grave for love and yearn to escape.

Yao Qianqian, her face dark, stepped up to Lin Feng and handed him a gift box. Her expression was blank as she said,

“This was a gift from one of my senior classmates. Consider it our family’s birthday present to the old master. Take it, and whatever you do, don’t make a scene during the celebration.”

With that, she fell silent and walked to her mother’s side.

Lin Feng glanced at the box in his hand. Through its clear plastic window, he saw a laughing Buddha pendant of icy jade. Judging by its quality and craftsmanship, it was worth at least seven or eight hundred thousand.

A senior classmate? No doubt it was Wang Jie.

Lin Feng smiled coldly to himself—this so-called classmate was no ordinary friend. In his previous life, it was Wang Jie who’d put a green hat on Lin Feng’s head—a humiliation he would never forget.

…

At that moment, a young man approached, a mocking smile on his lips, blocking Lin Feng’s path.

This youth wore a designer suit, an Aston wristwatch glinting on his wrist, and his hair was fashionably styled.

He pointed dismissively at the gift box in Lin Feng’s hands and scoffed, “Lin Feng, don’t tell me you’re trying to fob off the old man with another cheap trinket. Tsk, tsk—the Buddha’s design and carving aren’t bad, but the jade itself is low-grade. Just some inferior icy jade, and you dare show your face with that?”

“But I suppose it matches your status—a fallen young master from a bankrupt family. What a joke…”

This was Yao Xingye, eldest grandson of the Yao family’s main branch.

In his previous life, Yao Xingye had been Lin Feng’s harshest tormentor in the family, especially at the old master’s seventieth birthday banquet, where he’d forced Lin Feng to kneel and apologize before everyone—a humiliation beyond words.

But now, Lin Feng would not let him have his way. He replied with a cool smile,

“Even if the gift isn’t expensive, it’s a sincere token from Qianqian and me. That’s more than can be said for certain people who pass off forgeries as genuine, pretending at generosity.”

His eyes flashed with cold light, stabbing straight at Yao Xingye.

Yao Xingye’s heart skipped a beat under that gaze. Could this wretch know that I bought a fake painting from the black market for 100,000, intending to pass it off as genuine? No—impossible. The seller assured me it was a top-grade forgery, not even an antique dealer with ten years’ experience would spot it.

This loser couldn’t possibly know it’s fake. He’s just bluffing!

“Tch, still so stubborn after bringing garbage. I doubt you have a shred of filial piety. Let’s see how long you can keep up the act at the banquet!”

With that, Yao Xingye brushed past Lin Feng, coldly eyeing him and thinking,

“Hmph—today, of all days, I’ll make this good-for-nothing son-in-law taste what it’s like to have his dignity ground into dust!”