Chapter 34: The Junior Brother's Divine Ability

When Zhang Yi rushed over, he discovered that Chang Mao was chasing and beating Deng Zhongxiu.

His anger flared—was it that wastrel again?

Zhang Yi had already guessed at some matters, but Deng Zhongxiu knew nothing; Senior Brother Deng had honestly helped them perform rites for the departed, and even if they refused to pay, to beat him? Chang Mao’s character was questionable, but he was still the son of Chang Yuchun, trained in military arts. Deng Zhongxiu was no match for him, scurrying desperately to avoid blows.

Zhang Yi’s face grew cold; no matter what, Deng Zhongxiu was from Dragon and Tiger Mountain. How could he be bullied?

He ran over, grabbing a handful of sand from a nearby flower bed, and approached Chang Mao.

Chang Mao paid no mind to the seven- or eight-year-old child, continuing his pursuit of Deng Zhongxiu. Zhang Yi, appearing suddenly, flung the sand expertly into Chang Mao’s eyes.

He’d used this trick countless times on Dragon and Tiger Mountain, and it had become second nature.

Chang Mao had underestimated Zhang Yi, and was hit squarely.

“My eyes!”

He immediately clutched his face and cried out.

When Lady Lan had let Zhang Yi and Deng Zhongxiu in, she’d deliberately sent the servants away. Now, as Chang Mao shouted, everyone rushed in from outside.

“What are you doing here? Leave at once!” Lady Lan waved her hand, ordering the servants out.

Her face was stern as she scolded Chang Mao: “You have no respect! Kneel down!”

Chang Mao was unconvinced, tears streaming as he endured the discomfort of the sand, glaring angrily at Zhang Yi.

“My Boundless Heaven!”

Zhang Yi feigned seriousness, gazing at the crowd.

“Lady Lan, Young Master Chang, are people from Dragon and Tiger Mountain not people? You sent men to drag us here by force, already humiliating my senior brother. Now that we are properly conducting rites for you, how do you treat him?

We from Dragon and Tiger Mountain may be humble, not as grand as the Chang family, but that does not mean you can insult us at will!”

His words were far more mature than his years, stunning Lady Lan.

He lowered his head and asked Deng Zhongxiu what had happened.

Deng Zhongxiu nearly burst into tears and said,

“Junior Brother, Lady Lan told me she suffers nightmare after nightmare, seeing her child drenched and weeping, searching for her.

She wanted to know if her son had died unjustly…”

“I said he hadn’t, and then… Young Master Chang started beating me…”

Zhang Yi’s expression remained unchanged; he had already anticipated this possibility.

In the era he’d lived in before, he’d read much about psychology and understood that some parents would escape responsibility for their failures.

They did not want to admit their child’s death was due to their own fault.

Blaming others is a part of human nature. Especially in an era where inequality was the norm, venting anger on another came easily.

Understanding Lady Lan’s inner turmoil, Zhang Yi shot Deng Zhongxiu a glare—his senior brother, so good-natured, refused to cooperate, and was beaten in vain.

At this moment, Zhang Yi realized his situation was extremely precarious. The reputation of Master Zhang and Dragon and Tiger Mountain might have some weight in the outside world, but against a distinguished family like the Chang clan, even if Chang Mao killed him, the worst he’d suffer would be a beating.

Do not be fooled by Lady Lan’s rebuke of Chang Mao and think her reasonable. If she truly was, why hadn’t she stopped Chang Mao earlier?

“Mother…”

Just as Zhang Yi was caught between advance and retreat, the Chang family’s daughter entered, intending to plead for Zhang Yi.

Suddenly, Zhang Yi began to cry.

“Senior Brother, you’re too kind-hearted, unable to tell Lady Lan the truth. I’ve said before, this Chang residence is full of dark spirits, clearly haunted… The Chang family bears a restless soul, why didn’t you tell Lady Lan?”

His crying stunned Deng Zhongxiu and left everyone else staring at Zhang Yi.

With his head lowered, no one could see his expression—except the prone Deng Zhongxiu, who saw Zhang Yi wink at him.

Deng Zhongxiu: …

Zhang Yi’s skill at feigned crying was astonishing; how could he “weep” so convincingly while winking at him at the same time?

Recalling Zhang Yi’s earlier instructions, Deng Zhongxiu caught on.

He replied,

“Junior Brother, wasn’t I afraid… to stir up trouble?”

The three members of the Chang family fell silent, listening to the exchange, as Lady Lan grew increasingly agitated.

So, there was indeed something hidden about her son’s death?

She went over and pressed,

“Little Daoist, my child…”

Zhang Yi ignored her, using his small body to try and help Deng Zhongxiu up, but he was still too young; failing to lift him, he fell himself.

Lady Lan, seeing this, was irritated, but her desire for answers held her anger at bay.

“Lady Chang, you’d best find someone more capable!”

At that moment, Deng Zhongxiu also caught on and followed Zhang Yi toward the gate.

“You dare to leave?”

“Silence!”

Chang Mao tried to rebuke Zhang Yi, but Lady Lan glared at him fiercely.

“Little Daoist, I beg you, enlighten me!”

Lady Lan’s pride remained, but she humbled herself to plead with Zhang Yi.

Zhang Yi said nothing, turning toward the memorial tablet of Chang Sen.

Standing before it, he drew a talisman from his robe and pinched it between his fingers.

Suddenly,

The talisman burst into flame without a spark!

The act startled everyone—this boy actually knew Daoist arts?

After the talisman ignited, Zhang Yi placed it on the altar.

Though the hall was windless, the talisman, guided by Zhang Yi’s fingers, rose from the altar and burned to ash in mid-air.

“Resentment—soars to the heavens!”

Zhang Yi’s tone was solemn; paired with his childish voice, it sounded strange.

But whether Lady Lan, Chang Mao, or their kin, all were awed by the little magic trick he’d learned in his previous life from some video app, and were amazed.

Not just Lady Lan, the Chang family’s daughter, and Chang Mao—their three faces were pale, and even Deng Zhongxiu was frightened; he’d never seen their master display such skills.

Zhang Yi’s reputation had been that of a boy who never read, isolated by his father, uninterested in cultivation, always hiding in his room tinkering with his devices and causing chaos on Dragon and Tiger Mountain.

“So Junior Brother Zhang was the hidden master all along, so it was, so it was…”

Deng Zhongxiu wept and laughed, gesticulating wildly, which infuriated Zhang Yi.

This fellow—asked to cooperate, he could do nothing; what use was he?

In the end, Zhang Yi bore everything alone.

After his little performance, Lady Lan’s emotions finally broke.

“My poor child, what a tragic death!”

Lady Lan wept before Zhang Yi, grief-stricken, her tears contagious.

The Chang family’s daughter, seeing her mother cry, wiped her own tears.

Zhang Yi’s gaze did not linger on the two, but fixed upon Chang Mao.

Chang Mao’s expression was strange; Zhang Yi noticed but said nothing.

“Little Daoist, who harmed my child? Was it those two wretched servants?”

Zhang Yi replied,

“No rush. I wish to walk through the Chang residence.”

Chang Mao’s face changed at these words.