Itachi's hand hovered awkwardly in the air, still extended in a gesture of goodwill. He hadn't expected much—perhaps a hesitant handshake or a sigh of relief. Instead, the pale, sickly-looking Xiao Chen had slapped it away with a force that seemed completely at odds with his frail frame.
The slap itself wasn't much, but the intensity in Xiao Chen's glare was enough to silence the crowd for a brief moment. His weak and trembling body barely held itself together, yet the hatred burning in his eyes was sharp enough to cut through steel.
Itachi raised an eyebrow, suppressing a small laugh as his thoughts began to churn. Oh? Look at him, beaming through hatered... As a bullied kid myself in my older days, I do understand his feelings. So let's not hold this against him...
Being a reincarnator himself, he wasn't filled with the stupid ideology of this world to the point where he can't think rationally and think everyone is below him. Having been spent nearly 20 years in this world, he was forced to adopt to customs in this world but he wasn't that far gone yet. Respect needed to be earned not be given out just because the other person had a bigger stick.
The silence didn't last long. Shen Feng, ever the emotional firecracker, exploded. "How dare you reject my brother's goodwill, you little shit!" he shouted, fists clenched as his entourage began to bark insults at Xiao Chen.
The crowd broke into murmurs, caught between outrage at Xiao Chen's audacity and fascination at his courage. Who in their right mind would dare slap away the hand of the Shen Clan's genius? And when he was apologizing at that.
To forsake a humble gesture, had this brat gone mad?
Before things escalated, Itachi raised a hand, signalling for silence. The simple motion was enough to make the crowd and Shen Feng's outbursts die down instantly. His calm, almost lazy smile never left his face, but his sharp eyes stayed fixed on Xiao Chen, who was now visibly struggling to stand.
Every movement seemed to cost Xiao Chen immense effort, but he still managed to rise to his feet, albeit unsteadily. His breathing was ragged, and his legs wobbled like bamboo in the wind, yet the hatred in his eyes never dimmed.
"You…" Xiao Chen said, his voice hoarse but loud enough for everyone to hear. "You act like you're some kind of god, offering condolences to the weak." His lips curled into a bitter sneer. "If you had any goodwill to begin with, you wouldn't have let your brother run wild like this!"
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
"Is this kid courting death?" someone whispered, their voice trembling with a mix of awe and disbelief.
Shen Feng's face turned red with rage. "You dare lecture my brother?! I'll—"
"Quiet," Itachi said softly, cutting him off again. His tone was light, almost playful, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. Tough kid. I like that.
Itachi's gaze remained fixed on Xiao Chen, studying him carefully. His outward composure didn't falter—his faint smile and relaxed stance made him appear completely unbothered—but internally, his thoughts were racing.
Now that I think about it... is this the scenario I have been trying to avoid? A protagonist? A loser who is bullied and beaten but his ego so high, that he thinks he can cover the heavens with his hands?
The signs were all there: the overwhelming hatred, the wounded pride, the defiance against impossible odds. If this brat was really the kind of protagonist Itachi had read about in his past life, this confrontation could be the start of something much bigger.
And if that's the case, he's should already be brewing nasty plans involving my brother… and, eventually, my clan.
For a fleeting moment, a dark thought crossed Itachi's mind when he thought about what could the end result be. Should I kill him now? It would save me and my family later down the line.
Yes, he had killed before in this world but never out of free will. He had been forced to battle every step of the way in his travels. He wasn't a blinded butcherer, but if it meant he could save himself or someone he cared about, then he wasn't the one to hesitate either.
As soon as the thought raised in his mind, he quickly dismissed the idea. No. Recklessly killing someone just because their glare was a little too intense would be foolish. Besides, Itachi wasn't one to act without confirmation. Even if he was a real protagonist, it isn't like the novels he read were the words of gods. There was always a different way to go about things.
He sighed inwardly, shaking his head as Xiao Chen continued glaring at him.
"What a troublesome day," Itachi muttered to himself.
Just then, a commotion rippled through the crowd as someone approached.
The sound of elegant footsteps clicked softly against the stone streets, and the murmurs grew louder. "It's her," someone whispered.
Itachi turned his head to see the source of the disturbance and nearly lost his composure for the first time.
The woman who emerged from the crowd was breath taking, a walking contradiction of grace and boldness.
Her long black hair fell like silk down her back, adorned with delicate ornaments that glinted in the fading sunlight. Her almond-shaped eyes sparkled with intelligence and confidence, framed by naturally long lashes. Her lips painted a soft crimson, curled into a faint, knowing smile.
But it wasn't just her face that turned heads—it was her outfit.
She wore a dress that was both traditional and scandalous, a masterpiece of embroidery and daring design. The white silk fabric clung to her figure, accented with intricate blue floral patterns that highlighted her curvaceous frame.
The neckline plunged boldly, revealing an almost dangerous amount of cleavage that seemed entirely at odds with the conservative values most cultivators preached. The slit on the side of the dress revealed long, toned legs with every step she took, and yet she walked with such poise that it somehow felt dignified rather than improper.
Itachi couldn't help but stare for a moment, his thoughts briefly derailed. For a culture that prides itself on tradition and values to the point of killing each other over it, some girls really do dress… quite boldly.
The girl held Xiao Chen beside her, gently cradling Xiao Chen as if the world around them didn't exist. Xiao Chen, the cheeky bastard, shifted his expression from defiance to one of pitiful vulnerability. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips, but his eyes shone with exaggerated pain as he looked up at his sister.
"I'm fine, Sister," Xiao Chen whispered, his voice frail yet melodramatic. "It's just… they're so ruthless…"
Itachi's lips twitched. He had to physically restrain himself from letting out a sigh or, worse, rolling his eyes. The brat's acting was as over-the-top as any third-rate protagonist in a stage play. If this kid had any cultivation to back up that attitude, Itachi might have been concerned. But right now, all he felt was a mixture of bemusement and annoyance.
The woman, on the other hand, glared at Itachi and Shen Feng with eyes so fierce it was as if they had personally robbed her clan of all its honor. When her gaze locked with Itachi's, however, it faltered. Her lips parted slightly in surprise, her expression shifting from anger to shock.
"Brother Itachi?" she whispered, her tone laced with disbelief. Her wide eyes betrayed a flicker of familiarity.
Itachi tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he examined her. Brother Itachi? He replayed her words in his mind, piecing together the odd familiarity she displayed. Then, something clicked. As he scanned her face, a fleeting image of a younger girl, far less… developed, flashed in his mind.
"Xiao Lian?" Itachi muttered under his breath, the name on the tip of his tongue as recognition dawned. His gaze shifted briefly to Xiao Chen, who was still playing the role of the city's most tragic victim. Then this brat must be… Xiao Chen?
The realization sent a small jolt through him. He had tried to help this kid once, years ago, back when the boy was little more than a cocky child with stars in his eyes and had just lost his cultivation. But the Xiao Chen standing before him now was entirely different—broken, bitter, and brimming with a hatred that practically oozed from his every pore.
"It's been a long time," Xiao Lian said, her voice carrying a faint resemblance of longing.
Itachi gave her a curt nod, his usual faint smile returning. "It has."
Xiao Lian rose to her feet, her hand still resting protectively on her brother's shoulder. Her expression hardened again as she gestured to the scene before her. "Brother Itachi, what exactly is going on here?"
Itachi, still composed, turned toward the crowd. His sharp gaze swept over the onlookers, who were clearly hoping for more drama. "This is a personal matter," he said calmly, his voice carrying an undeniable authority. "I hope you'll give enough face to not make this a spectacle."
The murmurs died down, and though there was some grumbling about missing out on the excitement, the crowd began to disperse.
Once the area was clear, Itachi turned back to his brother. "Shen Feng! Front and center!"
Shen Feng, who had been trying to slink away with the retreating crowd, froze in place. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he realized there was no escape as he watched his so-called friends run like there was no tomorrow. Reluctantly, he shuffled forward, his head hanging low.
"Tell me what happened from the beginning," Itachi ordered, his voice calm but firm. "And don't even think about lying."