Looking at Jian Chen with his head bowed in silence, Changyang Mingyue blinked her big eyes, then walked up to him and said, "Fourth Brother, don't be too sad. If anyone bullies you later, just tell me. I'll beat them up for you good and hard."
Changyang Mingyue thought Jian Chen was upset because he could not cultivate Saint Power.
Hearing this, a faint smile appeared on Jian Chen's face. He looked up at her and said, "Don't worry, Second Sister. I'm not that easy to bully."
Only Jian Chen himself knew the truth: he was not incapable of cultivating Saint Power. He had simply channeled all the Saint Power he absorbed into refining his body, leaving his dantian completely empty. If that had not been the case, the result of the test would have been completely different.
Unfortunately, he could not tell anyone about this. He would have no way to explain it, and he would never reveal the secret of the *Purple Blue Sword Classic*. Otherwise, the origin of the technique would become an unanswerable mystery.
Although Jian Chen knew his status in Changyang Mansion would drop sharply because of this, he did not care. In fact, he secretly hoped for it. If that happened, it would be much easier for him to leave the mansion later. If he had been hailed as a genius, wandering the outside world would have been far more difficult—his family would never let him go until his strength met their approval.
"Xiang'er… Xiang'er…"
A soft voice called from the bed. At that moment, his mother finally woke up.
Jian Chen's spirits lifted at once. He immediately turned and rushed to Bi Yuntian's side. "Mother, I'm here. Are you alright?"
Bi Yuntian looked at Jian Chen with a complicated gaze and sighed. "Mother is fine. Xiang'er… I…" She trailed off, her eyes filled with sorrow, grief, and faint pain.
"Fourth Sister, don't take it so hard," Bai Yushuang, standing nearby, walked to the bed and comforted her. "Xiangtian has been extraordinarily intelligent since he was little. It's a great pity he can't cultivate Saint Power, but I believe he's still extraordinary. His future achievements will still be limitless—after all, he has a clever mind no other child has."
Bi Yuntian nodded slightly. "I know that too."
She looked at Jian Chen, reached out a tender white hand, and gently stroked his head. "Xiang'er, don't be sad. Your Second Aunt is right. Even if you can't cultivate Saint Power, you have a sharp mind. You might still achieve amazing things in other ways."
Hearing this, hesitation flashed across Jian Chen's face. His heart ached to see his mother like this. For a moment, he desperately wanted to tell her the truth—that he was not a useless cripple. But in the end, he held back.
"Mother, don't worry. I won't let you down."
He cherished this hard-won motherly love deeply.
Jian Chen stayed by his mother's side in the room all day, only leaving at night. During the day, Changyang Ba also visited Bi Yuntian, but left soon after. His attitude toward Jian Chen was clearly colder than before—and Jian Chen noticed every bit of it.
---
Four years passed in the blink of an eye since Jian Chen's Saint Power test.
During this time, Jian Chen locked himself in his room to cultivate whenever he was free, training even longer than before. Sometimes he did not step outside for an entire day.
As expected, his status in Changyang Mansion plummeted. Even Changyang Ba had grown cold toward him, never visiting him once in four years. Only his mother Bi Yuntian came to see him nearly every day—her love for him had not faded at all.
---
Early the next morning, Jian Chen, who had been sitting cross-legged on the bed, slowly opened his eyes, ending his night of cultivation.
He gently stretched out his hands, and a faint white glow gradually appeared on his palms. With a graceful flip, he jumped off the bed and landed steadily on the ground. He then thrust both hands toward the floor.
A soft sound echoed.
Jian Chen's small hands were as hard as steel plates, easily piercing the tough floor tiles, with only his palms exposed above the surface.
A pleased smile appeared on Jian Chen's face.
Half a year after the Saint Power test, he had already finished the foundational Body Refining stage of the *Purple Blue Sword Classic* and officially began cultivating Saint Power. Since he no longer needed to use absorbed energy for body refining, his cultivation speed was extremely fast. In just a few years, he had made remarkable progress.
Now, aided by his Saint Power, Jian Chen could easily thrust his hands into ordinary stone slabs.
---
In the early morning, Jian Chen left his room and wandered alone around the mansion.
The patrolling guards shot him strange looks—mockery, disdain, pity. The fact that the Fourth Young Master was a cultivation cripple was no secret in Changyang Mansion, and even the guards now treated him differently.
Jian Chen ignored them all.
Just then, his stomach rumbled loudly with hunger. He touched his belly, sighed quietly, and walked toward the kitchen.
He had not eaten with his mother in the dining hall for a long time.
For breakfast each morning, he went to the kitchen alone, only joining his mother for lunch and dinner with his aunts.
When Jian Chen arrived at the kitchen, over a hundred servants were busy at work.
The air was thick with smoke and heat from the stoves, making it feel like being inside a steaming basket.
"Well, look who it is—the Fourth Young Master!" a servant in his twenties sneered upon seeing him. "Why are you here in the kitchen again? This is a place for us servants. How can a noble young master like you set foot in such a place?"
No sooner had he spoken than another servant chimed in.
"If I had to guess, the Fourth Young Master is here for steamed buns again. Strange, though—why won't he eat with the Patriarch in the dining hall, and instead stoops to getting buns from the kitchen? These buns are only for us servants and the mansion's guards."
The thirty-year-old man stared at Jian Chen with a mocking expression.
The other servants all watched with amusement.
Both men had powerful backers. The younger servant was introduced by Jian Chen's First Aunt, Linglong—the Patriarch's first wife—and was distantly related to her. Lacking talent, he could only work in the kitchen.
The older man's brother was the captain of the mansion's guard squad.
Jian Chen frowned at their taunts, a flash of anger in his eyes. But he held back and walked straight to a large bamboo steamer.
Just as he was about to lift the lid, a pair of big hands snatched the steamer away.
"I have to take these buns to the guards right away—they haven't had breakfast yet," the servant said, carrying the steamer toward the door.
He muttered under his breath, "What a shame. Lady Yun gave birth to such a useless good-for-nothing."
At these words, Jian Chen's body stiffened.
This time, his anger finally erupted.
Without a word, he shifted slightly, tapped his feet lightly on the ground, and darted behind the servant in an instant. He threw a punch straight at the man's back.
**Thud!**
Caught completely off guard, the servant stumbled and fell to the ground.
The steamer clattered down, and round steamed buns rolled out in all directions.
The sudden incident stunned everyone in the kitchen.
They could not believe how quickly Jian Chen had moved—none of them had seen him dash over. Even more unbelievable, the seven-year-old Fourth Young Master had knocked a grown man to the ground with a single punch.
"Hahaha! Brother Qiu'er, you surprise me!" the young servant who had mocked Jian Chen earlier burst out laughing. "You're a Level 3 Saint Power expert, and you got knocked down by a kid? Did you wear yourself out with women last night to be this weak?"
Furious, Qiu'er scrambled to his feet.
His eyes blazed with rage as he stared at Jian Chen. Being knocked down by a seven-year-old boy—especially one labeled a cultivation cripple—was a humiliation. After all, he was a Level 3 Saint Power practitioner.
Blind with anger, Qiu'er forgot that Jian Chen was the Fourth Young Master of Changyang Mansion.
He roared, charged at Jian Chen, and threw a punch straight at his chest.
Jian Chen's face twisted with disdain as he watched the incoming punch. It was full of flaws.
He tilted his body and took a small step to the side, dodging the attack perfectly. Then he leaped up, his right leg arcing through the air in a graceful trajectory, and kicked hard into Qiu'er's nose.
**Aah!**
Qiu'er let out a scream like a slaughtered pig.
He immediately covered his nose with his hands, blood seeping through his fingers.
Jian Chen had held nothing back—he had broken Qiu'er's nose.
The searing pain paled Qiu'er's face.