Old Master Lin Shangyi of the Lin family had been feeling uneasy lately. His appetite was poor, and his nights restless.
He had always lived a disciplined life. In his youth, he had studied a bit of Internal Martial Arts (Neijia Gongfu), and for decades he had maintained a daily routine of Taiji (Tai Chi) and the Eight Brocades (Baduanjin). Now, well past eighty, his health was exceptional—his personal physician even claimed that his heart was healthier than that of most young men.
But recently, things had changed. His body felt weaker, his breath short, and even a little exertion left him exhausted.
He began to suspect that his final days were approaching. While he still had strength, he wanted to put his affairs in order. The most important of these was his granddaughter's marriage.
That boy from the Li family… It's been so many years. I wonder how he's doing now?
As usual, Lin Shangyi went out for his evening walk. But today, after only a short distance, his legs refused to carry him further.
"Master, let's head back," said his steward Lin Chanming, walking at his side.
The Lin household had several stewards, but Lin Chanming was the chief. He handled no business matters—his sole duty was to attend to Lin Shangyi's daily life. With Lin Chanming nearby, the old master was at ease, and so was everyone else in the estate.
"Chanming, you've been with me for over ten years now, haven't you?"
The steward blinked, not sure why the old man brought this up so suddenly. "Yes, sixteen years."
"Sixteen years… you're getting on in age yourself," Lin Shangyi sighed. "No one can fight time forever."
"What's troubling you, Master?"
"All these years, you've worked hard by my side. Have you ever thought about starting your own business?"
Lin Chanming shook his head. "You've treated me generously, Master. I wish only to serve you faithfully, without any other intentions."
"Hah! You're overthinking," Lin Shangyi laughed heartily. "At my age, sooner or later I'll be gone. Once I'm gone, there'll be no one left for you to serve."
"Master…"
Lin Shangyi waved him silent. "You and I aren't outsiders—no need for empty courtesies. Death comes to all, and there's no use being overly superstitious about it. Years ago, I bought a small island in Donghai (East Sea). It should be fully developed by now. I know you dislike mixing with worldly schemers—how about becoming the lord of your own Peach Blossom Island?"
Lin Chanming quickly bowed. "Thank you, Master."
"Don't thank me yet," Lin Shangyi said. "I have a favor to ask."
"Please, Master."
"Over twenty years ago, our Lin family suffered a disaster. Even now, the memory makes my heart pound. Outwardly, we seem prosperous, but dangers—both internal and external—are many. Once I'm gone, they will erupt. I want you to promise me—after I die, for three years, you will protect my descendants."
"Rest assured, Master. That is my duty."
"There's one more matter. A young man named Li Muchen…" Lin Shangyi paused, then turned toward the villa. "Come. We'll talk in detail back home."
The two were heading back when they reached the gated entrance of the villa community. The security guard saluted. "Old Master, heading home so early today?"
Lin Shangyi had always been warm toward the staff. He smiled. "Getting old—can't walk far anymore."
"You've always treated us workers and even the poor relatives from the countryside so kindly, sir," the guard said. "My mother always told me good men live to a hundred."
Lin Shangyi chuckled. "There's no such thing as living to a hundred. No matter how much you flatter me, you can't change an old horse's fate."
Then a thought struck him. He turned to the guard. "What did you just say? Poor relatives?"
The guard nodded. "Don't poor folks often come by, claiming to be distant kin? You told us to be polite to them—remember? Why, there was even a young Taoist who came today."
Lin Shangyi's eyes lit up. He patted the guard's shoulder. "That's right. Poverty shouldn't crush one's spirit, and wealth shouldn't make one forget their roots. Do more good deeds, and by the third generation, your family could be wealthy."
The guard grinned sheepishly. "Wealthy? I'd settle for being modestly well-off."
The old master turned to leave, but then froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned back. "Wait… what Taoist?"
The guard replied, "A young man dressed like a Taoist priest came today, asked for you by name. Said he was a relative of yours. I think his name was Li… something Chen."
"What did you say his name was?" Lin Shangyi's smile vanished, his voice sharp.
Startled, the guard stammered, "Li… Mu… Chen—yes, Li Muchen. Steward Luo received him."
"Where is he now?"
"He… left."
Lin Shangyi's face darkened, his voice booming like thunder. "Get Luo Mingsha here—now!"
The guard's heart pounded. The old master was normally kind, but when angered, no one dared cross him. Could this Li fellow be a swindler? Either way, Luo Mingsha was in trouble.
---
Lin Qiusheng had no idea what had happened at home when the old master urgently summoned him back.
Lately, business troubles had kept him exhausted, leaving him no time for family matters.
When he arrived at the old master's residence, he found his wife Yan Huimin, his son Lin Yun, his cousin Lin Laifeng, and his nephew Lin Shaoheng already there. Only his daughter Lin Manqing, who was studying in Qiantang, and his younger nephew Lin Shaoping, who was overseas, were absent. All the key members of the Lin family were present.
The atmosphere felt… wrong. As soon as he walked in, no one greeted him—not even his wife. Everyone sat in tense silence.
On the sofa, the old master appeared calm, but there was still a deep anger in his expression.
Could it be… he's heard about the recent business failures?
"Dad, what happened?" Qiusheng asked cautiously.
"Ask your wife," Lin Shangyi suddenly roared, his voice like rolling thunder. "Ask her what fine deeds she's done!"
Yan Huimin trembled, lowering her head and beginning to sob.
Qiusheng, bewildered, walked over to her. Between sobs, she recounted what had happened earlier that day—leaving out a few details.
"I thought… giving him two million was more than generous. He and our Manqing have never even met—how could she accept him showing up like that? Besides, how could a daughter of the Lin family marry some poor boy from the mountains? If word got out—"
Qiusheng understood immediately. Of course, he knew about the marriage agreement from years ago, but he had never taken it seriously, thinking it was just a joke.
He hadn't expected the young man to actually come knocking after all these years.
"You should have told Father before making a decision," he said.
"Father's been unwell lately. I didn't want to trouble him with something so small. The engagement was his doing, and he's a man who cares about face. Some matters should be handled by us children to spare him the burden."
Her words sounded entirely reasonable, without a flaw. Her tearful demeanor even drew sympathy from those present.
Qiusheng found himself thinking she had done nothing wrong—that perhaps Father was being overly sentimental.
But he didn't dare contradict the old man. He cast a pleading glance toward his cousin Lin Laifeng.
Laifeng, the son of Qiusheng's late uncle, enjoyed special favor from the old master out of guilt for his father's early death. Sometimes, his words carried more weight than Qiusheng's.
Laifeng gave a soft cough. "Uncle, Huimin has a point. Aside from the mismatch in family status, the two have never met. How could Manqing accept this? You know her temperament."
Qiusheng felt reassured and stepped forward. "Dad—"
Before he could say more, Lin Shangyi suddenly stood, snatched the teapot from the table, and hurled it to the floor.
Crash!
The priceless purple clay teapot shattered into pieces. Everyone froze.
That teapot had been crafted by a master artisan and was one of the old man's treasures. For him to smash it… his anger must have been volcanic.
No one dared to speak.
"Poor boy?" Lin Shangyi's cold laugh cut through the silence. "And what's so wrong with being poor? Look three generations back—whose family hasn't known poverty? Or has your Yan family never been poor?"
"I, Lin Shangyi, was once poor too! There was a time when I couldn't even fill my belly. If everyone were as short-sighted as you, would I have ever married your mother?"
"Master, please don't get angry—it's not worth harming your health," Lin Chanming murmured behind him.
"It's not about my health—it's about this pack of useless descendants!" Lin Shangyi's hand shook as he pointed at everyone in the room. "My days are numbered. When I'm gone, which of you can hold this family together? Drive Li Muchen away, and you'll regret it!"
"Dad…" Qiusheng didn't understand what Li Muchen had to do with managing the family estate. Was the old man confused? Still, he dared not say so. "Tell us—what should we do to calm your anger?"
"Find him!" the old man barked. "Mobilize everyone—if you can't bring him back, you can stop being the head of this family. And as for your wife—send her back to Meicheng (Plum City)!"
The last words nearly made Yan Huimin collapse to the floor.