Chapter 16: 16 The Spring Silkworm Spins Silk Until It Dies

16 The Spring Silkworm Spins Silk Until It Dies

In the middle of the night, Tang Zhao opened his eyes.

While waiting for someone in the afternoon, he had fallen asleep, so he could not sleep at night.

He did not want to sleep, either.

The night was deep and quiet, and he still had things to do. There was a very important matter he needed to confirm.

He rose alone and lit the Lamp.

The moonlight outside the window was beautiful, yet the night remained thick and deep; the small room was dark and gloomy, and every corner felt unfamiliar.

Unfamiliarity and loneliness wove together into fear, surging up like a tide, nearly drowning him.

Only the light on the table was as dazzling as gold.

When lonely, he took out his Glasses again and placed them on the bridge of his nose.

After adjusting the Glasses, his surroundings became much clearer, and even the firelight on the table felt a bit warmer.

He took out a thick letter.

This was the one he had delivered to Xue Fu, which had been returned to him.

He took the letter out and placed it on the table, emitting a soft "thud."

There was some weight inside the envelope.

This was the letter he had delivered when visiting the Xue Clan; later, the Xue Clan threw it back at him, and he had kept it with him without opening it.

In truth, he had wanted to open it long ago because a doubt was hidden within, but he had never found the time. After a day of bumping and tossing, fortunately, the letter was not lost.

He touched the seal with his hand; sure enough, it had been resealed. It was not the way he had sealed it originally; someone had opened it and then sealed it again.

He tore the envelope open bit by bit and pulled out the letter paper inside; it was a very thick stack.

He opened the top page, which was filled with neat, clear small regular script.

But if any other literate person were here, they would surely find it strange, for even a top scholar could not recognize a single character on the letter.

Very few people in this world could recognize this script. Including Tang Zhao, there were only two or three.

"My younger brother Laiyi: Seeing this letter is like seeing me in person.

It has been over a decade since we parted; have you been well? I presume you are, for if you had met with some misfortune, you would hardly be able to see this letter, so you know this question of mine is foolproof. But if you are indeed ailing, it is actually more convenient for us brothers to speak, as this foolish elder brother has already been waiting underground for a long time."

Reading to this point, Tang Zhao grinned bitterly.

He had been the one to hold the pen for this letter.

Even now, he remembered the expression of Chen Zong, who was already terminally ill—he had been bright and his tone relaxed, while his own hand holding the pen had been tight, stiff as a wooden stick.

He was very familiar with the content that followed, as he had written it character by character. Most of it was reminiscing, mentioning many past events, things that happened after they parted, and also...

"I have written a thousand words, yet my thoughts are endless. But I still remember that my younger brother is not well-versed in letters, and I fear you will not read it if it is too long; I ask my son Tang Zhao to convey the rest."

Up to this point, it was all written by Tang Zhao. After finishing, he put it into the envelope and handed it to Chen Zong.

By the time he received it again, the envelope was already sealed. He delivered it directly to the Xue Clan. It had been several months since he last saw this letter.

He had not expected that a line had been added below.

This line was crooked, far less neat than what Tang Zhao had written, showing that the person who wrote it had no strength in their hand.

"Tang Zhao, my son, though not born of me, you are better than a biological child. I intended to entrust my legacy to you, but Heaven did not grant me the years. The child is twelve this year, kind by nature, with a character like gold and jade, but he has not yet learned the way to conduct himself in the world, which is truly worrying. If you have time, brother, please look after him a little. If you have no time, let him go, but do not harm him. Please, I beg you.

Chen Yuhang, from underground, remembers a lifetime of friendship and will surely repay you in the next life."

Tang Zhao pursed his lips, pressing them tightly into a line.

After a long time, he took off his Glasses and wiped them clean with his sleeve.

His movements were very slow; he wiped the two thin lenses for a long, long time.

After finishing, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength and slowly slumped onto the table.

He stayed like that for a long time. The Lamp burned bit by bit, and large drops of candle wax dripped down, landing on the candlestick, solidifying and piling up. As long as the candle burned, the wax tears would not dry.

After a while, he used his fingers to pick up the page with a blank expression and turned it over.

The envelope he had delivered originally only had the first few pages; everything after was newly added, meaning from this page on, it all came from within Xue Fu.

After the page, there was a blank sheet.

Further on...

A flash of gold shone brilliantly—

That was gold, real gold!

Tang Zhao's pupils reflected the gold; it was the color of wealth, the color of happiness, the most desirable color in the world.

However, that was just the color reflected in his irises; he himself had no color, no special joy, and no special surprise.

"So it really is gold."

When the letter was thrown back at him earlier, he had already sensed the difference in weight—that was definitely not the weight of paper. Let alone adding a sheet of paper, even adding a dictionary could not be this heavy; it could only be that gold or silver had been added inside. It couldn't be that they had added a hammer, could it?

This matter had felt extremely strange to him from the start.

The attitude of Xue Fu was, of course, terrible—so terrible that it made him instinctively very angry.

Yet the gift thrown out was also real and tangible.

If they had told him directly to take the money and leave, it might have been that they were just using money to dismiss him because they found him troublesome, but they hadn't mentioned a word, as if the gift of gold didn't exist. No matter how he thought about it, it didn't make sense.

If it were just a small amount of money, that would be one thing, but since they had made such a grand gesture of giving real gold and silver, why not say a few polite words to at least build a good relationship? It wouldn't have cost any effort, so why resort to harsh words?

In front of the Xue Clan gate, Tang Zhao actually hadn't figured it out yet.

The words he finally said to Xue Fu could be heard by an average person as mockery after being angered, but a thoughtful person could also consider them sincere thanks.

Whether it was thanks or mockery, he himself could not tell.

It depended on whether the Master of the house heard it with good intentions or bad.

He hoped it was good intentions; after leaving Xue Fu, he hoped so more and more.

After all, that was the person Chen Zong told him to find at the very last moment, and Tang Zhao sincerely hoped not to let him down.

The gold was as large as a piece of letter paper, a thin sheet, weighing about one tael. Lifting the gold foil, there was a piece of paper underneath, and then another piece of gold foil.

There were six pieces of gold foil in total, which meant six taels of gold; at the current price of silver, it could be exchanged for one hundred and twenty taels of silver.

It was truly quite a lot. It was enough to buy twenty or thirty mu of good farmland, and then buy two rooms in the city, living comfortably without worries about food or clothing. If one were just supporting oneself, five taels of silver a year was enough for a person to be well-fed and warm. And if one wanted to buy people, seven or eight taels of silver was the limit for a maid or a young servant. In other words, if Tang Zhao could not survive and sold himself, he wouldn't even be able to sell himself for one hundred taels of silver even if he sold himself ten times.

Of course, he did not know that he had a super-high valuation at the human trafficker's, but that was another matter.

Putting away the gold, there was one last letter.

It was a reply.

Compared to Tang Zhao's handwriting, and even compared to Chen Zong's final testament, this handwriting was not very presentable; it was not due to a lack of strength, but rather quite crude and childish, as if someone who had just learned to write had crawled it out stroke by stroke.

"Nephew Tang Zhao:"

Having only read four characters, Tang Zhao's hand tightened slightly, but his heart suddenly relaxed, feeling a sense of relief.

Regardless of whether it was sincere or fake, he hoped it could allow Chen Zong to have no regrets.

"Having heard today that you have come from afar, I am happy that an old friend has a successor. I originally intended to meet, but our fate is shallow, and the details are hard to explain in a few words. Do you have a place to settle down, Nephew? If not, go to Zhuoyu Villa in Yuxia Jun and seek Manor Master Xue Xianyun to stay for the time being. Attached to the back of the letter is a cultivation technique; you may burn it after memorizing it. If Xianyun asks, use your own judgment to hand it over; do as you see fit."

"Cultivation technique..."

Tang Zhao stood up abruptly, and because he stood up too suddenly, he almost bumped into the table.

Oh my...

Was it the kind of cultivation technique he was thinking of?

His palms were sweating from nervousness; he hurriedly put down the letter paper, wiped his hands on the table, and then gripped it tightly again.

He had always wanted to learn martial arts, ever since he was a child. He had had this dream since he read his first miscellaneous book. Later, after meeting Chen Zong and hearing too many bizarre and strange stories, he longed for it with all his heart.

But where was the path? Back then, he had pestered his father to take him to a martial arts school, but after the Teacher at the school looked at his bone structure, the meaning behind his words was always one thing: "You have to pay more!"

He couldn't afford to pay more, and on top of that, he was constantly suffering from major and minor illnesses, so the days he could run and jump were limited. His martial arts dream was completely broken, so he had to study literature. And he wasn't even learning from a proper teacher, but from Chen Zong, learning something neither fish nor fowl; he didn't even need to think about official rank.

Later, his family members passed away one after another, and he was completely without anyone to restrain him. But at that time, even if someone told him to go learn, he wouldn't have dared. Proper martial arts schools wouldn't accept him, but many unorthodox paths and underworld gangs were recruiting on a large scale. They weren't recruiting proper Disciples, just peripheral thugs; you would follow them in, receive a set of clothes, and go fight and kill on the streets and docks, being brave and ruthless. It was said that after making a name for yourself, you could gradually enter the core and learn real skills, and that would truly be "fighting your way out a bloody path."

This path, even in the current world, was not one for the children of good families. If he dared to go, his last bit of meager family property would have to change its surname, and as for whether he could keep his life, that would depend on whether the gang was ruthless.

But he still wanted to learn martial arts, even in his dreams.

Having lost all support, living in the world alone was too hard and too dangerous. He wanted to protect himself and possess power. As for future prospects or dreams, those were too far away; he just wanted to grasp a bit of security and save himself.

He once thought that if he wanted to fulfill his dream, he could only pin his hopes on a miraculous encounter. Either he saved a dying Great Hero and waited for them to repay the favor by taking him as a Disciple, or he fell off a cliff and found a martial arts secret manual in a cave—those were things that only happened in stories.

He didn't expect that he wouldn't fall off a cliff, but a secret manual had truly bumped into his hands!

And it was sent to him through such a path by a Great Hero like Xue Daxia who suppressed an entire region!

If this wasn't a miraculous encounter, what was?

And it was an orthodox miraculous encounter!

By comparison, things like a fairy in strange clothes rising from the water were too bizarre and not real at all. Even stories didn't write like that! Besides, other than a pair of Glasses, he hadn't gained any benefits!

Taking a few deep breaths full of excitement, he flipped the letter over and, sure enough, saw a text of several thousand characters.

"Paulownia Flower Attracts Phoenix Art".