Chapter 7: Second Uncle Knows How to "Devour" People

This thought crossed Jiang Luan’s mind for a fleeting moment, and the next second, Qi Shaolin let go of him, beaming foolishly.

"Wife, let's go pick up the fruits again. Lin'er picked so many!"

Jiang Luan said helplessly, "They’re dirty, let’s just leave them be."

Qi Shaolin pouted, forcing himself to hold back from throwing another tantrum. Watching that expression—like a child who had lost a beloved toy—Jiang Luan chuckled again. "When the weather clears up, I’ll go to the mountain with you to pick some, all right?"

Upon hearing this, Qi Shaolin’s eyes lit up, and he nodded frantically like a puppy.

"But we have an agreement: no more throwing random tantrums from now on," Jiang Luan added.

"Lin'er didn't throw a tantrum..." Qi Shaolin glanced cautiously at Jiang Luan’s face as he spoke, then lowered his voice. "Alright."

Jiang Luan patted Qi Shaolin’s head. "I haven't been to the back mountain before. I’ll have to rely on Brother Lin when the time comes."

Qi Shaolin immediately perked up with immense enthusiasm. "I will protect my wife well!"

The two of them swept away the previous unpleasantness, and the matter was considered settled.

Jiang Luan squinted in satisfaction. Please! Who was he? Having grown up in an orphanage and raised countless younger siblings, dealing with an overgrown, intellectually disabled child was a piece of cake. Besides, the little fool was actually quite obedient; he just had a strong sense of possessiveness, much like a dog guarding its food, which could be gradually tempered. Jiang Luan could feel that the lad’s feelings for him were genuine.

Having arrived in such an unfamiliar, ghost-forsaken place where he was targeted by the Prince of Suping at every turn, it would be a lie to say Jiang Luan wasn't touched by having this little fool wanting to protect him.

"Wife, are you cold? Do you want me to carry you back?" Qi Shaolin looked at Jiang Luan with anticipation.

If any other man had asked Jiang Luan, "Shall I carry you back?", he would have definitely been kicked into a wall and left embedded there. But looking lazily at the silly boy, Jiang Luan voluntarily opened his arms. "Hmm."

To trade sincerity for sincerity—Jiang Luan was willing.

Qi Shaolin happily scooped him up.

"Ahem."

Someone finally couldn't "bear" to watch them being so lovey-dovey any longer and coughed lightly under the veranda. Jiang Luan instantly shoved the lunging Qi Shaolin away.

The newcomer smiled and said, "Is that Shaolin and Master Jiang?"

Jiang Luan looked over and found a complete stranger standing under the corridor—a middle-aged man in black robes, gaunt and thin, with a black cloth strip covering his eyes, clearly suffering from an eye ailment.

Reviewing the Qi family tree in his mind, Jiang Luan cautiously probed, "Uncle?"

"Heh heh, Master Jiang, I was still recuperating in the temple when you two were married. I didn't expect you to recognize me. *Cough, cough.*"

After saying this, Qi Tianxing seemed to have exhausted all his strength; he pressed a fist to his lips and coughed violently. Jiang Luan remembered the Qi family records stating that the old master’s two sons, Qi Tiansheng and Qi Tianxing, were one a scholar and one a warrior. The second son, Qi Tianxing, had placed second in the military examinations, but had roamed the pugilistic world for years instead of serving in the court. He never imagined he would be such a sickly invalid.

"It is my failure for not coming to visit you, Uncle," Jiang Luan said politely.

"Why go to such an unlucky place? My health..." Qi Tianxing laughed at himself. "Forget it, let's not speak of such unhappy things. I heard the two of you laughing and playing just now; your bond is deep. That is good, very good."

Jiang Luan felt his face heat up again. Fortunately, the man was blind and couldn't see. He said awkwardly, "I've made a fool of myself in front of you, Uncle."

Qi Tianxing smiled gently. He didn't look like a martial artist at all, but rather a pale scholar who had been ill for a long time. The misleading, gentle exterior of that little hooligan, Qi Shaokang, was likely inherited from his father.

He coughed a few more times and called out, "Shaolin?"

Only then did Jiang Luan notice that Qi Shaolin, who had been making such a fuss earlier, had gone silent—strangely quiet. Jiang Luan looked at Qi Shaolin in surprise and found the little fool standing there with a somewhat pale complexion.

"Brother Lin?" Jiang Luan asked curiously.

Qi Shaolin snapped out of it, tugged on his sleeve, and whispered, "Wife, let’s go quickly."

Before Jiang Luan could lecture Qi Shaolin, Qi Tianxing spoke up on his own.

"Shaolin still dislikes me so much," Qi Tianxing sighed helplessly. "Very well, it is cold and bitter; you should go back to your room quickly. I cannot stand on the veranda for long either. Please excuse me."

He leaned against the wall while coughing and walked away slowly, looking rather pitiful. Jiang Luan wondered if he should go and see him off. It was curious—if Qi Tianxing had trouble getting around, why wasn't he accompanied by a servant, instead of standing on the veranda blowing in the wind?

But as soon as he moved, he was pulled back tightly by Qi Shaolin.

"What's wrong with you?" Jiang Luan could tell that Qi Shaolin was afraid of his uncle. He wondered if there was something wrong with this Qi Tianxing.

Qi Shaolin wore a hesitant expression, eventually whispering mysteriously to Jiang Luan, "Second Uncle eats children."

Jiang Luan: "???"

"It's true! One bite per child, it’s terrifying!" Qi Shaolin said as if it were a serious matter.

Suppressing a laugh, Jiang Luan asked, "Who did you hear such a secret from?"

"My mother told me. Every time I was naughty, that’s what she would tell me," Qi Shaolin replied.

The "mother" in Qi Shaolin's mouth must have referred to his birth mother, Wu Ci. Jiang Luan guessed that because his second uncle practiced martial arts, Qi Shaolin’s mother must have scared him when he was young, saying things like, "If you aren't good, I'll have your second uncle take you away."

Whether Qi Shaolin’s foolishness was innate or acquired, he had taken those words to heart, and even now, grown as he was, he was still afraid of his second uncle. Jiang Luan found it amusing and shook his head.

"But Mother is gone now," Qi Shaolin sighed. "I don't know if it's because Mother wasn't good either, so she and Father were eaten by Second Uncle."

Jiang Luan: "..."

Jiang Luan had also lost both his parents, but since he had become an orphan early on, he had no real impression of them and little emotional attachment. Looking at Qi Shaolin now, he realized the boy must have had a happy childhood to miss his mother so much.

"Don't think about it," Jiang Luan patted Qi Shaolin’s shoulder. "Let's go."

...

"Achoo!"

Jiang Luan was drinking the ginseng soup Qi Shaolin had brought him when he couldn't help but sneeze, splattering chicken soup all over Qi Shaolin's face.

"Sorry, Brother Lin." Jiang Luan wiped his nose with a handkerchief, huddled sickly in his quilt.

After walking through the snow, his frail body had started running a high fever that very night. In ancient times, there was no cold medicine, and by the next day, he was too sick to open his eyes. Qi Shaolin no longer went to the mountain to play; he hovered around Jiang Luan, constantly touching his head or his arms.

"Stop spinning around, I’m getting dizzy just watching you. I’m going to throw up," Jiang Luan said weakly.

Qi Shaolin climbed up to the side of his bed, worried, "Wife, are you uncomfortable? Would you feel better if you ate some sugar?"

"I don't want to eat," Jiang Luan answered in a hoarse voice.

"Young Master Jiang, the doctor is here."

Zuo Lang pushed the door open, bringing a gust of wind and snow into the room, and quickly turned to close the door. Behind him followed a handsome young man carrying a medicine chest, who walked in gracefully.

It really is frustrating how people differ—Zuo Lang had been beaten to the point of incontinence and nearly died outside the gate, yet that very night he was able to report to Jiang Luan with a bandaged head and a limp. Meanwhile, Jiang Luan had merely walked around outside without a cloak and was now sick to the point of death. This only strengthened his resolve to build up his physical strength.

After Zuo Lang entered, he stood by the door respectfully, hands tucked into his sleeves, silent. Qi Shaolin looked at him several times with keen interest.

The young doctor entered the inner room to take Jiang Luan’s pulse. Jiang Luan stared at him weakly. "Doctor, why isn't your hair white at all? Can you actually cure me?"

The young doctor replied nonchalantly, "My family has been in medicine for generations; I have been studying pharmacology under my grandfather since I was six. You can rest assured, Master."

He then wrote a prescription and instructed Zuo Lang to follow him to the pharmacy to get the medicine. The whole process took less than ten minutes, leaving Jiang Luan very suspicious of the man's skills.

Just as the two were about to leave, they bumped into Prince Suping’s daughter, Qi Shaoyan, who was pushing the door open. The young doctor bowed his head submissively to let the young lady pass first. Qi Shaoyan was stunned when she saw him, then bowed in return. The young doctor returned the bow and walked into the snow with Zuo Lang. Qi Shaoyan turned her head, her gaze following his figure.

Behind the screen, Jiang Luan noticed Qi Shaoyan staring blankly at the doorway, wondering what she was looking at.

"Cough, cough. Sister-in-law, why have you come?" Jiang Luan deliberately coughed a few times.

"I heard you were ill, so Mother instructed me to bring some things to visit," Qi Shaoyan said, regaining her composure. She instructed the servants, "Bring them all in."

Jiang Luan frowned. He hadn't spread the news of his illness, only privately instructing Zuo Lang to fetch a doctor. The Prince of Suping was well-informed, rushing over immediately.

The servants moved in several jade boxes and two silk-covered quilts, filling half the room.

"You can use the ginseng to make soup, Sister-in-law," Qi Shaoyan said. "They are hundreds of years old, excellent items. Drinking them will help you recover. There are also some fresh fruits and vegetables that are hard to find in this season."

"The Prince is too kind. Please thank him on my behalf, Sister-in-law." Jiang Luan raised his eyes to meet Qi Shaoyan’s.

Qi Shaoyan lowered her head shyly under his gaze, but she didn't seem to be avoiding him; she just appeared to be introverted by nature.

"Rest well, Sister-in-law. I won't disturb you further," Qi Shaoyan bowed and left as swiftly as the wind, taking the servants with her.

Once the door closed, Qi Shaolin wanted to look at the things Qi Shaoyan had brought, but Jiang Luan barked at him, "Hey, come back! What's there to look at!"

Jiang Luan was a man who had watched the entire series of *Empresses in the Palace*; he didn't believe for a second that the Prince of Suping was so kind-hearted. Would he go to such lengths to inquire about his courtyard just to bring him gifts? He would have to have Zuo Lang check them later.

"Wife, do you feel any better?" Qi Shaolin crawled back to the bedside, his eyes shining as he looked at him. "If you find Lin'er annoying, I can go out."

Jiang Luan looked at Qi Shaolin, thinking of something. He pushed back the quilt and patted the bed.

"Brother Lin, come up here."