He had barely absorbed a third of the treasures when, in a timely manner, the door to the pavilion burst open.
The morning breeze carried the sound of arrogant footsteps, the jingling of ornaments, and an overpowering floral perfume. Feng Rui didn't even need to look up to know who had arrived.
His stepmother.
And beside her, his oh-so-precious younger brother.
"Ah! To think I would live to see something so absurd!" His stepmother's voice was sharp and theatrical, the kind of indignation that had clearly been rehearsed all morning. "Do you really think spiritual treasures can be squandered like running water? Do you think our family is an endless fountain of resources for you to waste like some gluttonous pig at a feeding trough?!"
The servants exchanged glances, barely hiding their amusement. Like proper sycophants, they neither helped nor remained neutral.
"Mother, don't get too worked up," his younger brother said, his voice dripping with feigned concern. "Elder Brother has suffered greatly. How could we blame him for acting like this after suddenly being favored? After all, going from a promising young master to a worthless cripple must have been hard to process."
The venom in his words was unmistakable.
Feng Rui remained silent.
But the vein on his forehead threatens to burst from frustration. Whose fault was it that he had become a 'cripple'?
"And what is this?" His stepmother picked up a pearl of divine essence from one of the trays, holding it between her fingers with exaggerated disbelief. "This treasure alone is enough to help a cultivator break through bottlenecks and stabilize their foundation. Even your younger brother has never received such a thing! And yet you—how dare you consume these resources as if they were mere snacks?"
One of the servants, with a practiced smile, added in a sweet, condescending tone, "Young Master Feng, perhaps you should leave some for your younger brother. After all, he is the one with a promising future in the clan."
Feng Rui lowered his gaze, not saying a word.
Scenes like these were so familiar he could yawn.
Let them talk.
Let them dig their own graves.
"Oh, what a tragedy," his stepmother sighed, slipping the pearl into the sleeve of her embroidered robe. "You don't even have the decency to respond. Perhaps—"
Before she could continue her public humiliation, a cold, commanding voice filled the room.
"What is happening here?"
General Han had arrived.
And, as expected, at the perfect moment too.
The air froze.
Feng Rui wondered if a player had triggered this event, considering how perfectly timed this dog-blooded scene was for the fans of the game.
The servants stiffened, his stepmother straightened her posture, and his dear younger brother paled.
Feng Rui lifted his head just in time to see his stepmother's expression shift in a desperate attempt to adjust to the situation, making herself look pitiful in front of the ruthless man.
"My husband! It's nothing, we were simply—"
"Simply what?" The general's voice was sharp as a blade, clearly not falling for her act.
Silence.
He rarely interfered in the affairs of the inner court, but these fools…
They weren't dealing with just anyone.
They were provoking the Celestial Demon.
Not some worthless bastard as they called him, but a blood-soaked demon who once brought the world to its knees and commanded hordes of the undead. As if dealing with the royal court's political schemes and the constant pressure from those faceless guardians wasn't enough, now his own family was courting death?!
The general's gaze darkened as he scanned the scene—the scattered treasures, his eldest son's subdued posture, the lingering arrogance on his wife and younger son's faces, and the servants' silent complicity.
Ah.
His wife and son were truly digging the entire clan's grave.
With just one word from this 'demon,' half of their family could be wiped out.
Feng Rui, playing his role of the silent victim to perfection, half-lowered his gaze and spoke with a quiet voice.
"Father… isn't it time to head to the Ancestral Hall?"
As if nothing had happened.
Feng Rui had no reaction, but would that crazy demon be the same?
The general said nothing for a moment, but the tension in the air grew suffocating.
For a brief second, he wondered if it would be better to just return to the battlefield.
At least they had a better chance of survival there.
In the end, he delivered his judgment.
"Lock her up."
The woman's face turned deathly pale.
"What…?"
"My wife isn't feeling well. Let her rest in her quarters. I don't want to see her leave her rooms for the rest of the day."
The servants immediately moved to follow the order.
"Hus-husband!?, wait! I was just—!"
No excuses were allowed.
She was dragged away, her cries echoing down the hallway.
But the general wasn't finished.
Slowly, he turned toward his younger son.
For the sake of the family.
Feng Rui didn't even bother hiding his satisfaction when he saw the panic in his 'good younger brother's' eyes.
"F-Father…?"
The general didn't answer.
He simply raised his hand.
And the sharp sound of a slap rang through the pavilion.
Feng Rui's younger brother was sent flying, crashing onto the floor with blood dripping from his lips.
It didn't compare to what Feng Rui had endured.
Not to the suffering of becoming 'worthless.'
But it was still a fitting retribution.
General Han stared down at his fallen son with disdain.
"Was it not your incompetence that destroyed your elder brother's core? Your failure to control your own energy? Then why do you think you have the right to mock him?"
Absolute silence.
The general, despite his firm exterior, was inwardly sweating.
What would happen if 'Feng Rui' became angry?
Everything he was doing was to preserve the family.
The servants turned pale.
Feng Rui, however, kept his expression calm, though deep inside, he relished every moment.
This was retribution owed to the 'original Feng Rui.'
Those who tormented him would pay—with interest.
After the punishment, the general ordered even more tonics and medicine to be delivered to Feng Rui's pavilion before they finally set off for the Ancestral Hall.
However, as they walked, a servant approached the general and whispered something into his ear.
"…Now?"
"Yes, my lord. They are waiting in the guest chambers."
The general's irritation was evident.
He turned to Feng Rui.
"You'll go alone. A guard will accompany you. When you're done, report to my study."
Feng Rui lowered his head respectfully.
Though inside, he cursed the timing.
He needed the general's presence in case something unexpected happened.
'This won't be easy, huh?'
As he continued down the mansion's corridors, something felt… off.
Rushed whispers.
Nervous footsteps.
Feng Rui stopped behind a column, watching a group of servants gathered near the garden.
"Did you find him?" one of them asked, voice tense.
"No, Lin Xian is nowhere to be found."
Feng Rui's expression darkened.
"Where is Lin Xian?" His voice cut through the air, startling the servants like frightened birds.
"Young master—!" They immediately bowed in greeting.
"Answer me."
"We… we don't know! He vanished this morning!" one of them stammered. "We were sent here to gather supplies for your courtyard, young master Feng."
"…You were sent?"
The servants exchanged glances, hesitant.
"Speak. Don't make me repeat myself."
"Y-young master, we… we apologize. Apparently, there have been… some disappearances among the servants, so we were sent to fill the vacancies."
Disappearances?
People actually died for real here?!
Feng Rui clicked his tongue.
'That little brat, Lin Xian… did he plan this to escape? He knows more than he lets on. Where the hell did he go?'
Before he could press for more information, a sharp scream tore through the calm morning.
It came from the direction of the Ancestral Hall.
Feng Rui immediately turned toward the source, his body moving on instinct.
'Shit. If it's the opposite case— I can't lose the only NPC that can accept my missions and advance the damn plot!'