Dust billowed in the cold backyard of the Chen Estate. The shrill sound of laughter cut through the air, punctuated by the dull thuds of fist meeting flesh.
"Just a stray dog picked up from the roadside—how dare you look at me like that?"
A youth dressed in fine blue silk kicked Chen Tian squarely in the stomach. Twelve-year-old Chen Tian collapsed onto the hard earth, his thin frame trembling. He didn't let out a single cry. Instead, he curled into a ball, shielding his head with his arms as dirt and footprints stained his face.
Around him, several youths his age erupted in mockery. They were sons of branch families and close relatives of the Chen Clan. To them, Chen Tian was no brother; he was a living toy who would never strike back. As an orphan with no Chen bloodline, his very presence in this residence was viewed as a stain.
"That's enough, Chen Ming. If you beat him to death, Elder Yan might actually be sad " one of the boys teased.
"Elder Yan? He's just a common elder in charge of logistics. Does he have the guts to oppose my father, the Great Elder?" Chen Ming spat on the ground right next to Chen Tian's head before turning away. "Let's go. Beating him only gets my hands dirty."
The group of teenagers left, chatting and laughing, leaving Chen Tian sprawled on the freezing ground. No servants approached, and no passing clan members spared a glance. In the vast Chen Estate, he was truly alone.
Chen Tian's vision gradually blurred. Sharp pain radiated from his ribs, piercing through every nerve. Before the darkness claimed his consciousness, he caught a glimpse of the sky, which had begun to shed thin flakes of snow.
Cold...
When his eyes finally opened, the first thing he sensed was the bitter aroma of medicinal herbs and a warmth spreading across his back. He found himself lying on a hard wooden bed inside a small, dilapidated shack. The cracked wooden walls made it clear that this was far from the clan's grand main buildings.
As he tried to shift his shoulder, a stabbing pain made him flinch.
"Don't move yet. Your ribs are nearly fractured."
A raspy yet gentle voice came from the doorway. An old man with hair and a beard as white as snow stepped inside, carrying a clay bowl filled with a dark, pungent liquid. This was Chen Yan—the elder who had found him on the outskirts of the forest ten years ago.
Chen Yan looked at the boy with a gaze heavy with guilt. He sat on a small wooden stool by the bed.
"Tian'er... it seems my decision to bring you to the Chen Estate was a mistake," Chen Yan sighed softly, his voice sounding older than usual. "The ones who beat you are the children of the Clan Leader and the Great Elder. In this clan, I am but a common elder with no real authority. I cannot protect you from them..."
Chen Tian suppressed the pain in his chest and slowly turned to look at the old man. Despite his bruised and pale face, he forced a small, cheerful smile, as if the injuries meant nothing.
"Elder Yan, please don't say that," Chen Tian's voice was weak but steady. "If you hadn't picked me up ten years ago, my bones would be in a wolf's belly by now. This life is a gift from you. A little beating won't kill me."
Chen Yan fell silent, his eyes trembling slightly at the boy's resilience. He knew Chen Tian was a cautious child who always tried not to trouble others, but that only made his heart ache more.
"Drink this medicine. At the very least, it will dull the bruising," Chen Yan said, helping Chen Tian sit up.
Chen Tian downed the bitter medicine without a flinch. As he swallowed the liquid, a faint flash of light—almost imperceptible—appeared behind his closed eyelids. A simple line of text, devoid of sound or warning, manifested in the darkness of his mind.
Technique: -
Points: 1
Chen Tian blinked slowly. His smile didn't fade, but a new sense of vigilance arose within his heart. He didn't know what it was, but his instincts as a reincarnator from his previous world told him one thing: this was a secret he must take to his grave.