Chapter 10: You've Grown Up

Xie Tianlang stopped, relieved. Qin Song collapsed as though all strength had drained from him. Gasping for breath, he looked up with venom in his eyes.

“Q-Qin Tian, smart choice. When I get back, I’ll put in a good word with my grandfather. Maybe he’ll throw you a scrap to eat!”

Qin Tian asked without expression, “Do you know where the people from five years ago came from?”

“What people?” Qin Song looked bewildered. He didn’t seem to be lying.

Qin Tian waved a hand. “Fine. Send him on his way.”

Xie stiffened again. “Second Young Master Qin, you still want him dead?”

Qin Song’s face twisted. “Are you fucking insane? I’m Qin Song, a member of the Qin family!”

“Do it,” Qin Tian said impatiently.

Xie gritted his teeth and walked up to the sobbing man. Taking a deep breath, he said hoarsely, “Don’t blame me, Qin Song. Have… a safe journey.”

“No…!”

Qin Song’s final cry ended as Xie crushed his head with a punch. Blood and matter scattered, and the smell of blood filled the air.

“Well done.” Qin Tian nodded, then his gaze turned icy. “If you ever set your sights on this place again, your end will be worse than his.”

Xie shuddered. “I’ll remember your words. Goodbye.” He turned to go, but before he had taken two steps, Qin Tian’s calm voice stopped him.

“Wait.”

Xie turned back stiffly, the flesh on his face twitching. “What else can I do for you?”

Qin Tian looked down at the mangled corpse. “Clean this up.”

Relieved, Xie bellowed at his men, who were still groaning on the ground. “Stop playing dead! Get up and take Qin Song’s body away. If any of you steal a thing, I’ll chop off your hands!”

They scrambled up and dragged the body out. Others took off their coats and wiped the blood from the ground.

When they had finished, Xie cupped his hands to Qin Tian. “Take my advice. Jiangcheng isn’t what it was five years ago. You’ve offended Qin Yuankun, and nobody can protect you.”

“Really?” Qin Tian smiled mockingly. “I’d like to see what that old bastard can do to me. Get out.”

Xie waved his men away. The Heavenly Wolf Gang had arrived in force; now they stumbled off in retreat.

The vast residence fell silent. At last Qin Yuanming came to himself. “Xiaotian, you’ve offended both Qin Yuankun and Xie Tianlang. Wasn’t that a little… impulsive?”

Qin Tian exuded confidence. “Don’t worry, Grandpa. I know what I’m doing.”

The old man’s face filled with pride and relief. “Xiaotian, you really have grown up.”

…

Meanwhile, at Maple Grove Villas, Jiangcheng’s most exclusive and expensive residential district, the new Qin family had made its home.

Five years ago, immediately after the ancestral residence was drenched in blood, Qin Yuankun had moved his entire family here. He had claimed he feared another attack, but his real purpose was to divide the Qin assets and sever all ties with the old house.

In the brightly lit living room, Qin Yuankun sat on a sofa with one leg crossed over the other. Although over seventy, his hair was meticulously combed and his complexion rosy. At first glance he looked kindly, but the occasional glint in his triangular eyes betrayed a sinister nature. A great painting of a hundred fierce tigers hung on the wall behind him.

Several direct members of his branch sat drinking tea and chatting with an aristocratic air.

“Grandpa, Qin Song went to the old house today. Why isn’t he back yet?” asked Qin Yang, Qin Song’s older brother. His narrow, sharp-featured face closely resembled his brother’s.

Qin Yuankun sipped his tea. “Qin Yuanming is there. You need patience. Learn from your brother and keep your composure.”

Qin Yang curled his lip. “I’m sick of looking at the old man. We let him have enough to eat, and he just sits on that place, doing nothing with it.”

“Exactly, Father. Maintaining that house costs money every year. We should have sold it long ago,” added Qin Yuankun’s second son, Qin Zhengtai. The three men looked and behaved so much alike that they might have been cast from the same mold.

Qin Yuankun put down his cup. “What’s the hurry? We’ve been boiling the frog slowly for five years. It should be ready by now.”

An urgent ring interrupted him. A servant stumbled inside. “Old… Old Master, something’s happened! Young Master Song… he…” The man’s legs gave out and he fell to his knees, shaking.

“Speak!” Qin Yang snapped. “What happened to my brother?”

Qin Zhengtai felt a rising dread. “Tell us clearly!”

Qin Yuankun frowned. “What happened to Xiaosong?”

“He’s… he’s dead!” the servant said, his voice breaking.

Everyone froze. Qin Yang went white and seized the man’s collar. “Bullshit! How could he be dead? Who killed him? Who dares touch a Qin?”

“X-Xie Tianlang! He killed Young Master Song with his own hands!”

Qin Yang stood motionless, stunned. Qin Zhengtai panted, his face twisting with rage. Qin Yuankun slammed the table and sprang up. “Xie Tianlang? Has he turned against us?”

“N-not just him… Qin… Qin Tian too…”

The room fell deathly silent. Qin Yuankun’s pupils contracted. “Who did you say?”

“Qin Tian. Second Master’s grandson. He… he isn’t dead. He’s back!”

“Impossible!” Qin Yang shrieked. “I saw his blood drained with my own eyes. He died in the courtyard of the ancestral home!”

Five years ago, Qin Yang had been the only one who witnessed everything from where he was hiding. He had seen Qin Tian fall in a pool of blood, stabbed three times and bled dry.

The news that Qin Tian was alive shocked them more than Qin Song’s death. The air seemed to freeze.

Qin Yuankun’s face twitched violently. He fixed his sinister eyes on the kneeling servant. “Say that… again.”

The man went weak under his gaze. “It’s true, Old Master. I saw him. The second young master is alive, and he’s at the old residence.”