Chapter 27: The Nine-Death Soul-Rebirth Herb
Reluctantly dragging himself out of the bathtub, Jiang Zhe gave himself a quick rinse, changed into a loose-fitting blue Hanfu robe, and headed toward the front courtyard.
The reception hall was brightly lit.
Jiang Zhe had to admit, he admired the guest's persistence. The man had apparently waited outside Lanling Base City for who knows how long, afraid Jiang Zhe's grandfather might slip away again come morning. So instead, he came knocking late at night.
Knock knock.
After getting a reply from inside, Jiang Zhe pushed open the door. His deep, still gaze instinctively swept across the people in the room.
His grandfather sat at the head of the room, with his eldest uncle on the left.
On the right, across the table, sat a thin, silver-haired elder, with a lean middle-aged man beside him.
Jiang Zhe recognized them instantly.
Such a small meeting hall, yet it housed three parliament members and one chief—a lineup that was nothing short of overwhelming.
The only one standing was a young man in his twenties, looking exhausted, with a trace of noble arrogance mixed with bitterness in his expression.
The eyes are the windows to the soul.
And as a spiritual psychic, Jiang Zhe only needed to lock eyes with the young man to mentally project the latter's shameful past, evoking deep-seated fear. The man began trembling uncontrollably.
"A mid-tier war general? That's it? What a joke—Wang family's weakling."
Jiang Zhe sneered and withdrew his gaze, no longer exerting pressure.
Wang Zhen felt like he had just been granted a royal pardon. He staggered back, barely managing to avoid collapsing by leaning against a red lacquered pillar. The back of his shirt was already drenched in sweat.
"Haha! Gentlemen, please forgive my grandson."
"He just returned from the wildlands after slaying too many lord-level beasts. The killing aura is hard to suppress."
"You're both his elders—please be understanding!"
The old man chuckled, speaking rapidly with not a hint of apology in his tone—only pride.
The lean middle-aged man and the elder exchanged a subtle glance, both amused and relieved.
Indeed, their worries had been unnecessary.
When they first heard at War God Palace about a 16-year-old war god-level psychic, their first reaction was suspicion: Did he overdose on enhancers?
Fortunately, with how strict the Jiang family was, they clearly weren't the type to burn the seed corn.
If he could slay lord-level beasts, then during his one-month disappearance, Jiang Zhe hadn't been blindly boosting his power with medicine—he had clearly tempered his real combat skills.
The old man waved at Jiang Zhe from his seat. "Come over here, let me introduce your grand-uncles."
"This is Jia Yi—the strongest parliamentarian in Hanxia!"
The lean middle-aged man smiled and nodded. "Haha, seeing you, young Jiang, I feel like my title as 'Hanxia's strongest' won't last much longer."
"You flatter me. I still have a long way to go." Jiang Zhe gave a polite response.
In truth, he had a bit of social anxiety. He was confident hanging out with his bros, but didn't know how to deal with these so-called elders.
His toes were practically curling on the floor from discomfort.
Please, Grandpa, don't call them 'Grand-Uncles'—just call them 'Big Bros' and I'll make sure these bros are taken care of real well.
Naturally, the old man couldn't hear Jiang Zhe's inner monologue as he continued, "This is Mr. Zhou. You should recognize him."
"Uncle Zhou," Jiang Zhe nodded.
He did recognize him—but only from TV.
They exchanged some polite greetings—mostly about how he was a young hero, the youngest war god in the new era, and so on…
The compliments were nice, but too much of it became tiring.
Jiang Zhe endured it, trying to stay courteous, until Mr. Zhou noticed his desire to leave—and finally got to the point.
"I'll call you Xiao Zhe, then."
"Xiao Zhe, what you suffered recently was a consequence of our collective failure—the fault lies with both us and the Wang family."
"We've already dealt with the traitors on our side who abused their authority to leak your communication location. The ones responsible in the Wang family have also been captured and will be executed immediately."
"It was Wang Li, the youngest of their second generation. He was jealous of your talent and used his family's influence to act recklessly. He not only stained the Wang family's reputation but nearly cost you your life—damaging both the Jiang family and Hanxia irreparably."
Jiang Zhe simply stared at Mr. Zhou, whose face grew slightly stiff under his gaze.
But as a seasoned statesman, he pushed through. "Now that the aftermath has been dealt with, Jia Yi and I are here to offer compensation. Most importantly, we hope you can forgive us for the grave mistake we made."
As he spoke, Mr. Zhou pushed a metal box on the table toward Jiang Zhe.
Jiang Zhe didn't look at his grandfather for approval. He opened the box without hesitation.
Top layer: a single white sheet of paper.
The calligraphy was handwritten in bold strokes—not printed.
"Foundations of Spiritual Psychics — Redeemable at War God Palace."
This was Earth's most refined spiritual psychic manual. Jia Yi wanted to explain, but Mr. Zhou stopped him.
Jiang Zhe, despite appearing young, understood its worth better than most.
For Earthlings, this manual was sacred. Its creator, Hong, would never allow it to circulate in physical form.
Even among the HR Alliance's elite, not even Phantom Magician Katelan—one of the closest to a true War God—had access to it.
The cost Hanxia must've paid to borrow this manual was unimaginable.
Still… Jiang Zhe silently scoffed.
To him, this so-called manual was practically useless. Its contents were basic—some parts downright laughable.
Especially its so-called core: the "Heavenly God Visualization Scroll."
The entire manual could be summed up in four words: Practice makes perfect.
Jiang Zhe seriously doubted it was anything more than a bunch of educated guesses pieced together from ancient ruins.
As for his current psychic amplitude? He had used his powers frequently in recent days—it had already surpassed a 10x amplification.
I really want to go to Ruin No. 9 to test my brain domain capacity, he thought, shifting his gaze to the second layer.
Second layer: a collection of training resources.
Ten unknown ointments, four pieces of jade marrow, and—at the very center—a vial of golden blood.
800 billion. Dragon's blood.
Jiang Zhe figured, given his body, he'd need at least two vials for full benefit—three to be safe. There might be some waste, but better that than being underdosed.
His family was wealthy, after all. Health first.
Bottom layer: A neatly folded uniform and a heavy identification badge stuffed in the side.
A quick glance at the shoulder insignia: top rank.
Clearly, he still didn't carry the same weight as a full War God psychic.
He grumbled inwardly, closed the box, and casually lifted it off the table.
Mr. Zhou smiled. "Xiao Zhe, you also have a personal guard unit assigned. The roster—"
"Uncle Zhou, no need for a personal guard. I don't need a ceremonial escort. If we actually get into a fight with monsters, who's protecting who is anyone's guess."
Jia Yi and Mr. Zhou chuckled.
Mr. Zhou took the opportunity to continue: "That was our primary reason for visiting. But there's a secondary matter—we're here as intermediaries for the Wang family."
"They've sent their heir, Wang Zhen, with a peace offering. Now that the culprit's been executed, they hope both families can let bygones be bygones and work together for Hanxia's future."
He glanced at Jiang Zhe's grandfather. "Of course, this isn't pressure—just mediation. Whether or not your families reconcile is entirely up to you. I'm just here as a witness."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "It's a pity the Wang family's head couldn't come himself. He's been in critical care since a few days ago. According to the doctors, he's unlikely to make it through the month."
Jiang Zhe raised an eyebrow. A dignified way to exit, huh?
Wang Zhen, following Mr. Zhou's signal, stepped forward and handed Jiang Zhe a small sandalwood box.
Inside was a bundle of dry, curled grass—two-thirds of it remained.
"Xiao Zhe, do you know about 'Plant Spirits'?"
Jiang Zhe nodded.
Mr. Zhou smiled. "Inside the box is a plant spirit called the Nine-Death Soul-Rebirth Herb, one of the oldest plant species on land."
Jiang Zhe paused and suddenly said, "Isn't that just a resurrection fern?"
The mystical aura Mr. Zhou tried to build was instantly shattered.
He coughed. "Ahem… well, yes, but this one is mutated—just like how a domestic pig is different from a Fire-Scaled Triceratops Boar."
"Even though it's dry, once it touches soil and water, it immediately revives."
"Its medicinal effect matches its name—it can keep someone alive on the brink of death and rapidly heal all injuries. Also, it can boost physical strength by four times. Even now, with only part of it left, it can still provide a nearly threefold increase—up to high-tier War God level."
Jiang Zhe snapped the lid shut, tossed the box back to Wang Zhen casually.
"I wasn't injured by the assassination attempt, so I don't need compensation. I'm very touched by the Wang family's sincerity, but let's end it here."
"Grandpa, what do you think?"
Having made his decision, he turned to his grandfather.
The old man smiled with satisfaction. "Haha, my grandson's word is final. That ends the discussion."
Jiang Zhe gave a slight nod to the guests. "Uncles, if you'll excuse me—I'll take my leave."
He left with the metal box.
As he brushed past the dazed Wang Zhen, he shot him a glance that clearly said:
They're leaving. Aren't you going to go have a nice family reunion?
That glance alone, imbued with psychic suppression, made Wang Zhen's knees buckle.
To him, Jiang Zhe's eyes were like black holes, sucking in his consciousness, ripping it apart—shattering it.
Already mentally fragile, Wang Zhen broke completely.
"Uncle Zhou! He's trying to kill me—save me!"
"Please! My grandfather helped you in the past—you owe him! You promised to protect me!"
"It wasn't me! I don't want to die!"
"Uncle Zhou! Please!"
Wang Zhen collapsed, crawling in desperation and clinging to Zhou's leg.
Jiang Zhe didn't even turn around to watch. Cold and indifferent, he left the hall with the metal box in hand.