Bringing some shocking pranks to the Cultivation World

78: Extra: Letter from Young Master Jie Lao (Third Update) 78: Extra: Letter from Young Master Jie Lao (Third Update) Hey, hey, hey, are you two doing well?

My son Jie Sanhai, and my beloved grandson Xie Du, by the time you read this letter, I will have passed away.

Surprised, aren’t you?

I had entrusted a friend to deliver this message to you through the Taiping Trading House in Beiliang as soon as the news of my death reached home.

Shocked?

Sad?

Relieved?

Or have you already bought fireworks and foreign liquor, setting off the former while drowning yourselves in the latter?

No matter, you can now curse me to your heart’s content, as I can no longer hear you.

I know I have never been a good father, nor a good grandfather, after all, no decent man frequents a brothel for half a month at a time.

And let’s not pretend either of us is better, one addicted to Wushi Powder, the other to gambling; our family really has all five vices.

Of course, please be assured, I had no sad story behind it.

I went to comfort the lost souls of women due to my own concerns and woes, with no obligations whatsoever.

My only goal was to find a day to die, that’s all.

So, I understand all the slander and curses you’ve thrown my way, because all you’ve said is true.

You don’t need to feel guilty; I indeed was that kind of man.

But you’d better not cry for me; I’m dead and won’t be able to see your tears—quite a pity, really.

Next, I want to say a few words from the bottom of my heart to you.

“Death is irrevocable,” I often used this phrase to console myself.

Not for knowing my death was imminent today, but for something twenty years ago.

Yet, even on the day I decidedly embraced death, I never got over that saying.

Luckily, you can.

Jie Sanhai, twenty years ago, you wandered into Boss Liu’s pharmacy in a daze and bought your first pack of Wushi Powder.

I haven’t done many good deeds in my life, but saving Boss Liu and his family was probably the most correct thing I’ve ever done.

It’s why you’ve been consuming that cooling powder for twenty straight years.

Otherwise, what did you think?

That an addict of Wushi Powder could remain lucid?

Did you think I’d let a poison addict inherit the Jie Family’s three-century legacy, to ruin what your great-grandfather built?

A person addicted to Wushi Powder ceases to be human from the day their desires take hold.

And Xie Du, I don’t blame you for what happened twenty years ago, neither did your father.

But none of us moved past that event.

Kid, that flood wasn’t your fault; the young lady saving you wasn’t her fault either.

Her last words before being swept away by the flood were for us to catch you.

It’s been twenty years, we’ve been trapped for a full twenty years.

Even now, that flood still sweeps through my dreams.

Every time your father pretended to be high on Wushi Powder, he cried out Jie Xiaonuan’s name.

And you, you never stepped out of those surging waters.

But now, you can move on.

You’ve been asking what wish the Immortal granted me, and I’ve always kept it from you.

Well, now that I’m dead, there are some things I should tell you.

I know that death is irrevocable; it’s not a comfort but a truth.

My only wish was for the Immortal to one day redeem the lingering soul of Jie Xiaonuan, swept away by the flood.

I don’t ask for her to be reborn, nor do I seek for her to remember anything.

I just hope that she can see.

And that you, can move on.

Then, I am, truly released.

I hope there are brothels in hell.

Ha ha, I truly am unrepentant, even as I finish this letter, I still long for Jie Xiaonuan, I long for my daughter.

Jie Se—written in the Sixth Year of Hongxi, Great Ming.

———————————–

“Phew.”

Exhaling a long breath, Xie Du closed his eyes and set aside the letter sealed with Jie Se’s stamp.

He lifted his head, looking over to the silent Jie Sanhai, at a loss for words.

“Dad, you don’t need to pretend anymore.”

Xie Du shook his head, breaking the silence, “No need to bother Boss Liu anymore, he still had to play along every day, pretending to have gotten the Wushi Powder from some distant Ghost Market, all nervously.”

“That old rascal sure has fleeced me of a lot of money.”

Jie Sanhai muttered under his breath begrudgingly, then he looked at Xie Du and said softly, “Did you…

really see your aunt that time?”

“Do you think I could’ve mistaken it?”

A faint smile emerged on Xie Du’s face, as he still remembered the bright young girl floating in mid-air, lazily greeting him.

“But she doesn’t remember us anymore.”

Upon hearing this, Jie Sanhai paused, a hint of disappointment flashing across his somewhat aged face, but it was quickly enveloped by a faint smile.

He lifted his head, looking at that part of the roof that had not been repaired for twenty years, and said calmly, “It’s not important, not important anymore.”

“Yes.”

Gently rubbing the armrest of the chair and looking down at the engraving [A chair gifted by Jie Xiaonuan to her silly nephew], Xie Du’s mouth curved up slightly, bittersweet, but more a sense of liberation.

“We really should move on.”

“So, you’ve been pretending to be a gambler for ten years too?”

Faced with his father’s question, Xie Du shook his head and then nodded, saying with emotion:

“At first, I really wanted to find some excitement, to forget that flood.

But later, I felt like I got trapped, consumed by the desire to play cards all day.”

Remembering this, Xie Du laughed self-deprecatingly, “I thought that after a few years in business, I could stop on time and walk away after winning.

But every time, I had the same thought, and several times, I almost couldn’t leave the gambling table.”

“Fortunately, whenever I was about to fall into it, I always felt like Xiaonuan, my aunt, was beside me.

She’d still call me a silly nephew, yanking my ear, telling me to go home to wash my hands and eat, that she made me green pepper stir-fried pork.

Then, it was like I was jolted awake, and I ran out as if fleeing for my life.”

“Old man, aren’t you curious why I specifically chose a Monster Hunter who’s known to be the least reliable?”

Looking toward Jie Sanhai, a smile appeared on Xie Du’s face.

“Why?”

Jie Sanhai tapped his tobacco pipe and asked.

“Six years ago, I went to a casino.

I had just left a banquet, drunk too much, got carried away by gambling, my mind all muddled, endlessly throwing money, but constantly losing.”

“Then I got desperate.

I didn’t bring much money with me, so I thought of borrowing some from the casino owner.

Thinking back, it was a trap; one step more, and the Jie Family might have had to change its name.”

“I had just asked where the boss was when one of their lackeys secretly kicked me out the door, sending me into an alley.

I was furious, about to curse them out, when I saw Xiaonuan standing beside him, looking at me with a look of frustration, and I came to my senses right then and there.”

“That lackey was Zhou Li in disguise, right?”

Putting down his tobacco pipe, Jie Sanhai looked at Xie Du and said, “So, last month you found him and entrusted him with finding your grandfather.”

Nodding, Xie Du stood up and looked at the tightly closed doors of the Jie Family, speaking slowly:

“After the abacus case, I lived on but still in a haze, at least not gambling anymore.

A month ago, Grandfather told me he was going to Beiliang and if there was no message to the family within ten days, someone should search for him.”

“He said, the one who finds him will uncover the secret he’s kept for twenty years; hence, Grandfather told me to find someone trustworthy to look for him.

I thought of Zhou Li, who kicked me awake, and Xiaonuan, who was with him.

On the eleventh day after Grandfather left, I found Zhou Li.”

“I knew Zhou Li had a sister at home who was sick, and I also learned from the Libationer at the Imperial Academy Mansion about the herbs they needed.

So, I bought the Town-Soul Pill, exchanged it for four thousand taels of silver, and entrusted Zhou Li to investigate Grandfather’s whereabouts.”

Jie Sanhai looked toward the waning sunlight spilling onto the threshold and with a faint smile said softly to Xie Du beside him, “That was the most correct decision you’ve made.”

“Yes.”

Recalling the youthful figure just now, Xie Du spoke with a sense of relief, “With Xiaonuan following Zhou Li, she should maybe possibly have the chance for a brighter future…

right?”

“Don’t be so hesitant.”

“Nonsense, your son went to the Imperial Academy with Zhou Li back in the day.”

Father and son exchanged glances, then burst into cheerful laughter together.

The steward sweeping the courtyard stopped when he heard the laughter, stunned in place.

It had been a whole twenty years since he had heard his young master and the old lord laugh so heartily.

“So, grandfather pretended to like visiting brothels too?”

“That’s not it.”

“He really was lecherous.”

Uh-uh.

The steward resumed sweeping with his head down, acting as if he hadn’t heard the utterly irreverent conversation.

Yet, his weathered face couldn’t help but show a smile, too.

The broad broom swept the dust out the doorway, revealing the stone steps that once bore the delicate engravings made by a young girl.

[Wishing a lecherous old dad, a brooding big brother, and a silly nephew, happiness forever]

[Left with love, Xiaonuan]