The monk sighed as he walked through paths that his mind found familiar yet his eyes had never seen.
It felt odd, taking over a body with so many memories, and being able to 'live' through them, without ever having experienced them either.
Therefore, the Monk found it difficult to accept having a new family. Especially since he was technically older than his own dad.
He used to have parents back in his world, but they had died at one point, which was what had caused the Monk to spiral in the first place.
Family had always been a bit of a sore topic for him.
It was likely to get even worse now that he had to pretend to be someone else's son.
'Whatever, I can handle acting for a bit.
From what I remember Mo Yangling had grown to be very much afraid of his father, always calling him 'Clan Head' by the time he was a teen.'
Mo Weisheng was made the Clan Head of the Family around that time. It was also around the time he started to neglect any relationship he may have had with his son.
It couldn't be helped, he still made sure to protect and provide for his son, but his new responsibilities didn't allow him to spend as much time with his 'despised' mortal son.
Not only that, but the Father himself also had started scrutinizing his son after a while.
This got especially worse when he had two more children, who both showcased rather impressive talents at their young ages.
How couldn't he at the very least berate his son? After all, Mo Yangling was a child with a lot of potential and talent, who simply refused to make use of it.
At the very least that was what Mo Weisheng was forced to hear almost on the daily, as other Elders bragged about whatever achievements their oldest sons or grandsons were making.
Slowly but surely, Mo Yangling had grown fearful of his father, fearful of that resentment that was building up within the Clan Head, hence why the two of them became distant.
With the perspective from his past life, the Monk could clearly see the cracks in behavior that the father's perceived resentment had caused.
In truth, Mo Yangling could have ended up much worse, were it not for his mother, Mo Meixiu.
She was originally a member of a lower merchant family, but she was also a mortal, much like Mo Yangling. Her inherent lack of talent in cultivation led to her overall dislike of it too.
And that dislike that she didn't bother hiding at all was likely shaped her son's view on cultivation in general.
The other two children that Mo Weisheng had with his concubines only really made things worse.
Whilst she could distinguish herself with her great ability to handle and manage money, her son was not really that talented in stewardship either.
Really, he only was interested in playing around and enjoying his life.
Still, she seemed to be a decent mother, making sure to instil the best of manners and etiquette into her beloved son.
It was only thanks to her that he didn't turn out like some hooligan, like some other Young Masters from bigger clans.
'Amitabha, it seems that a mother's heart is stronger than the fear of a father's hand.'
Mo Yangling had taken refuge by his mother's side for as long as he could have during his younger life. And she was one of the few people that would stand up for him.
She was really the only person that the Monk was worried about figuring him out.
'I have planned some explanation in case they have questions... But I'll have to see how the conversation goes.'
The Innermost Circle of the Walled Capital was by far the most impressive place that the Monk had laid his eyes on.
Architecturally speaking, there was nothing in his past world that could match up to it. And the castle that was now closer than ever was also a testament to that.
'Cultivation seems to have built up the sharpest of minds, making them even better.
It may not even be that farfetched to say that this world isn't too far behind ours in technology... Progress has just been distributed in other places.'
The monk could see statue after statue within the road he took, they seemed to be suspended in the air, floating constantly for what the monk assumed was centuries.
They were statues of their ancestors who had fought to form the families and the Kingdom itself.
And while the Monk held no deeper attachment to them, it was clear that they were made with special materials, one could almost feel the emotions within them just by passing by.
But aside from statues, the plazas he passed by were also populated by plenty of cultivators coming and going, carriage after carriage being dragged along by beasts that the Monk could only call mythical.
Well, they would've been a lot more impressive had he not already lived in a forest full of them, but the fact that they were actually domesticated was beyond impressive.
The carriages themselves didn't seem to be that simple either, some were even floating as well, carried by flying beasts as they roamed the skies above.
No one approached the monk, he also didn't get any attention drawn towards him since his fancy new clothes fit right into the crowd in such a place.
Upon reaching the Mo Family Compound, he was once again reminded of how great and disconnected from the rest of the city his original body's birthplace was.
The Compound was a fully sectioned-off part of the city, easily spanning 5 kilometres square.
Of course, a lot of that area was reserved for stables, forests, herb gardens and training fields.
The actual population of the Mo Clan mostly lived in 1 square kilometre, and their personal army lived in the barracks that were a bit off of the main house, they took up more space.
Mo Yangling was very much accustomed to the place, and no one stopped him at the entrance either, as people were seemingly informed of his arrival.
All he had to do was identify himself again at the gate.
As one would expect, the guards there were easily twice as strong as the ones that had been placed at the gates outside. The Monk assumed that they were Martial Masters at the very least.
It was a matter of face after all. The stronger a clan's first impression was on visitors the better.
Of course, his identification came with plenty of confusion and scrutiny from the guards.
The Monk couldn't help but scowl when hearing their hushed conversations as soon as he left.
"To think that pest still lives... God, I was hoping he died somewhere as in the rumours..."
One of the Martial Masters scowled, not knowing that the Monk's enhanced hearing could even hear his heightened heartbeat due to frustration.
'A rumour about me dying? That is quite interesting... I guess people were sent to look after me then? I doubt they would've gone as deep into the forest as I had.'
"It looks like he has trained himself now, so maybe he has grown. No need to be so negative about this. The Clan Head will at least be more focused and happy from now on."
The other Martial Master stationed at the gate was not quite as negative.
He actually seemed rather positive about seeing Mo Yangling's new appearance and judging the way he carried himself.
"Bah! So what if he started cultivating? He missed the best years for it already... It's a miracle he's still alive after being lost in that goddamned forest."
"..."
The conversations continued but the monk didn't stay and listen.
He had already gotten a decent understanding of what he needed to know anyway.
He received plenty of gazes as he walked through the large Mo Family Compound, he was unknown, but most could assume that he was a new servant or someone on a task, so no one asked any questions.
It was really hard to recognize the current Mo Yangling for them.
The usually skinny and fair-skinned young man had turned into a bronze-skinned beast, with scars and muscles that put most Body Martial Arts cultivators to shame.
That being said, his somewhat imposing appearance was also a bit eye-catching; one would never want to stand out in a place like a large Noble Family.
"Oh? What, we have a new servant to collect horse dung!"
A rather arrogant voice spoke from the side, the Monk didn't even need to turn his head to recognize it.
A young woman with short black hair and a rather short stature. She was of a rather slender build, on her hip there was a nicely decorated one-handed blade.
She was wearing red robes with black highlights, with the sigil of the Mo Clan imprinted on the left side of her chest.
The Mo Clan's sigil was that of a glowing golden sun within a slightly larger half-moon, usually on a red background.
'That's certainly Mo Qiao, that voice seems to be associated with plenty of my memories. She's Mo Yangling's cousin and a rather fierce girl, pretty annoying too...'
"Haha, at the very least you look strong, though you seem quite stupid ignoring me like this."
With a look of contempt and irritation, the young woman approached Mo Yangling right away, clearly trying to get under the Monk's skin.
Of course, there was also a small hint of challenge in her gaze. It was as if a flame was burning behind her eyes.
She was no little girl, she was a tiger looking for a new toy to play with...
And she felt that she had found one, especially when the Monk met her gaze with one that was just as strong, if not even more intense.
That fire in her eyes was immediately put out when Mo Yangling just sidestepped her and continued on his way.
She immediately swung her sheathed blade like a bat at his head, but that attack was so meaningless that the Monk didn't even bother to block it.
The monk instead started vibrating his Origin Energy in a very peculiar way, one that he had remembered the Dragon of the Valley doing.
The girl's sheathed blade hit his shoulder and caused a small shockwave to spread out in the pathway, cracking some of the tiles, but not even leaving a mark on the monk's bronze skin.
'Amitabha, how many annoying brats does this clan have? I really hope this body's memories are wrong sometimes...'
It was such a meaningless attempt that the monk didn't even bother to retaliate or respond. He just kept walking, leaving behind a stupefied girl, who was looking at her arm and blade with confusion.
'What the hell!?!? That was worse than hitting a steel wall! That's got to be a strong Defensive Martial Art!'
The shock from her strike had reverberated back into her arm, it would have caused some damage had she not defended herself with Origin Energy in time.
She jumped backwards slightly, expecting some retaliation, but when she saw that the Monk was just walking away she immediately got frustrated.
"Hey! Where are you going?! Fight me at least! Don't wind me up and leave like that!"
The girl shouted, her voice getting farther and farther as the monk ignored her and kept walking.
Thankfully she seemed to get the message that he had some important business to attend.
The Main Mansion of the Mo Family was where the Monk walked almost as if by habit.
His body was used to that place, it was his place of birth and his place of growth.
But the Monk had never seen it before. It felt more like a King's, Chinese-styled mansion than a noble family's home.
It was grand and shining, highlighted almost as if it was built out of gold. But the monk could clearly see that it was made out of wood, it was wood taken from the Chen Luo forest in fact, he had passed a few such trees after fleeing from the Beast Ambush.
'The Red Trees seemed to be quite rare though, so it's safe to assume they are sturdy and expensive, wouldn't expect any less though.'
For stone, the building seemed to be mostly using marble and crystal.
He was not stopped by anyone when entering the home, though he could feel many eyes upon him.
The front door opened to the main hall, where the Clan Head was currently standing cross-legged in front of a table.
The ground was lined with red carpet, silk woven with gold from what the Monk could see. The tables and every accessory in the room seemed to be golden too.
The Elders were also present, not that Mo Yangling knew any of them by face, so he couldn't recognize any of them.
Their judgemental gazes scanned anyone coming in to meet with the Clan Head and council; they were all seated in chairs in a half-moon formation, but a step or two below the head of the Clan and slightly closer to the carpet.
At the very end of the red carpet was the symbol of a golden sun imprinted into the carpet, that was where the Monk stopped and looked up to the Elders and his father.
"... Mo Yangling? Is that really you?"
The Monk sighed internally when hearing the Clan Head's cold voice.
'Time to start the theatrics...'