Ch 34: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

But perhaps Mu Xing was never meant to live a peaceful life.

Less than half a month after Ah Yue left, the Marquis of Cheng’en’s household sent people again.

This time, it was the heir himself, Lu Jiayao.

He was the legitimate eldest son of the Marquis, raised from childhood as the heir. The last time Mu Xing had gone to the Marquis household, he hadn’t even caught a glimpse of this elder brother.

Compared to the cold, indifferent Marquis Mu Xing had met before, this heir appeared gentle and broad-minded.

He properly had his men knock on the door, bringing gifts to pay respects to the Mu family.

“You must be Xing’er.” The heir of Cheng’en Marquis looked at Mu Xing, his eyes full of apparent joy. “Not long ago, I learned the truth of your birth from Grandmother’s own mouth. Only then did I realize that my true younger brother had been left outside all these years. You must have suffered much.”

“Elder brother has come to take you home. Will you come?”

Mu Xing gazed coolly at the man before him. His expression was so sincere, as though he truly felt guilty.

Mu Xing smiled faintly. “My lord heir, please don’t joke. I don’t understand the words you speak.”

The heir grew anxious. “You are clearly my brother! Lu Jiaming is nothing but a bastard from outside—”

Mu Xing’s expression chilled.

He looked at the heir, his tone suddenly frosty. “Do the Marquis and Madam know of your visit here?”

The heir answered heavily, “Father and Mother have been bedridden for a long time, they no longer manage affairs.”

“Oh?” Mu Xing raised his brows. He had no idea his master had a hand in this. He still remembered when he had seen the couple years ago—they’d looked perfectly healthy, hardly like people wasting away.

But it was none of his concern. Casually, he said, “That is truly unfortunate.”

The heir looked at him with expectation. “Come back with me. Elder brother will surely make it up to you.”

Mu Xing let out a light laugh. “My lord heir, Grandmother told you of my parentage, but did she also tell you that I have already severed ties with the Marquis household?”

Lu Jiayao’s face stiffened.

Of course he knew.

Before her death, the old lady had summoned him, telling him Lu Jiaming’s true identity.

By then, she had already seen that Lu Jiaming was ambitious, unwilling to live quietly. Though she had doted on him sincerely, in the face of the Marquis household’s interests, that affection meant little. She would never allow the Marquis legacy to fall into the hands of an outsider.

She had told Lu Jiayao, if Lu Jiaming kept quiet, so be it.

But if not, he was to expose Lu Jiaming’s origins and drive him out.

After her death, Lu Jiayao became the true master of the household.

As for Lu Jiaming, once he learned the truth of his birth, he was never at ease. Though his health was frail, he busied himself in the capital, leveraging the Second Prince’s name, making connections and widening his circle.

If it had been before, Lu Jiayao might have let it be. After all, they were family—more allies for the Marquis household could only help.

But now, knowing Lu Jiaming wasn’t truly of the family, Lu Jiayao only saw his actions as schemes for power.

He thought of Mu Xing—the younger brother cast aside outside.

Lu Jiayao didn’t want to earn the reputation of plotting against his own kin.

So he came quietly to Mu Xing, wanting to persuade him to act together in a staged play.

The true young master of the Marquis household reappearing, while the pampered, well-known Lu Jiaming turned out to be a usurper—

He, Lu Jiayao, could present himself as clean and innocent. At the right moment, if he appeared heartbroken yet resolutely brought his true brother home, Lu Jiaming’s position would instantly grow awkward.

The connections Lu Jiaming had cultivated through the Marquis name would crumble.

It was a fine plan—except Lu Jiayao never considered that Mu Xing would simply refuse to play along.

“I know you harbor resentment. Back then, Grandmother and the others were deceived by Lu Jiaming.” Lu Jiayao’s tone was earnest. “These years, Grandmother regretted deeply. She missed you dearly, but didn’t know how to face you.”

Mu Xing looked at him in surprise. “My lord heir—do you even believe the words you’re saying?”

“…”

Lu Jiayao fell silent for a moment, then finally shed the mask of warmth and sincerity.

He looked down at Mu Xing from above, his tone growing impatient. “What do you want, in order to return with me to the Marquis household?”

Mu Xing sighed. “Now you look much more pleasing. Truly, it’s better to deal with one another honestly.”

He shook his head. “So I’ll give you a serious answer as well: I am a Mu family son. I will never return with you.”

Lu Jiayao’s brows furrowed. Coldly, he said, “You are my brother. I do not wish to use unsavory methods on you.”

His gaze swept around the humble house, pointedly. “The Mu family has raised you all these years. Surely you don’t want to bring disaster upon them.”

At those words, Mu Xing’s expression darkened completely.

Mu Xing was a person of gentle temperament, always smiling, almost never showing anger.

But even the gentlest person has a reverse scale.

For Mu Xing, his family was that scale.

The Marquis household’s disdain for him in the past had never roused his anger—because he never took them seriously. But Lu Jiayao’s words—those touched his bottom line.

Mu Xing rose from his chair, meeting Lu Jiayao’s eyes head-on.

He spoke slowly: “I also hope you won’t force me… to use some rather uncivilized methods.”

Lu Jiayao reacted as though he’d heard a joke. “You’ve lived in this tiny place all your life, your vision is limited—you probably don’t know what the four words Marquis of Cheng’en mean—”

Mu Xing cut him off.

He looked as though truly enraged. One hand resting on the table behind him, he said slowly: “No, I know very well what the Marquis of Cheng’en means. But you certainly don’t know that people living in a small place are not ones you can bully at will.”

He stepped forward, then glanced back at the table he had just touched. Bending slightly, he gave it a gentle blow.

That tall, thick solid-wood table, under Lu Jiayao’s stunned, horrified gaze, turned to ash inch by inch, scattering across the floor.

Straightening, Mu Xing smiled with innocent eyes at him. “What was it you just said, my lord heir? I didn’t quite hear. Something about using disgraceful methods to force me?”

Lu Jiayao: “…”

Mu Xing fixed him with a gaze so chilling it raised goosebumps, his tone layered with meaning: “I wonder, my lord heir—compared to this solid-wood table, do you think your body is sturdier?”

Lu Jiayao couldn’t help but retreat two steps, staring at Mu Xing as though at a monster. “You…”

“I’ve been frail since childhood.” Mu Xing clapped his hands lightly, his expression returning to its usual sunny smile. “My family worried I’d be bullied, so I learned a little self-defense.”

He blew softly on his palm. “See? It came in handy. This way, when shameless people try to bully me, they’ll have to consider whether their own bones can withstand it.”

Cold sweat beading his brow, Lu Jiayao left the Mu household.

He didn’t dare harbor designs on Mu Xing again.

---

But Lu Jiayao underestimated Lu Jiaming.

He thought his visit had been discreet, yet it had already fallen under Lu Jiaming’s watchful eye.

“My elder brother went to a place called Dazhuang Village?” Lu Jiaming listened to his men’s report.

His face was pale as paper. Though it was early spring and others had already donned lighter clothes, he still had to wear a heavy cloak, coughing from time to time.

No one looking at him would doubt he was a man plagued by illness.

Lu Jiaming sipped some hot water, soothing the itch in his throat.

He could guess why Lu Jiayao had gone to Dazhuang Village—clearly, Lu Jiayao had learned the truth of his identity.

But that person hadn’t returned with him. That, Lu Jiaming hadn’t expected.

He couldn’t help recalling—

He had once seen Mu Xing, the first time the boy had been brought to the Marquis household.

Back then, his heart had been set on driving him away, so he had only taken a quick glance.

He could no longer clearly remember the boy’s features. But that first stunning impression had lingered ever since.

In all the years afterward, Lu Jiaming had never forgotten him.

Of course—he was still living under that boy’s identity. How could he possibly forget?

Originally, Lu Jiaming had thought—if Mu Xing kept his head down, he would leave him be.

But now, Mu Xing was about to become Lu Jiayao’s weapon against him.

Lu Jiaming thought: Don’t blame me. Blame Lu Jiayao for setting his sights on you. Once you reach the Yellow Springs, if you want to bear resentment, direct it at him.

He arranged for killers to lie in ambush around the Mu household, waiting for nightfall to harvest every life inside.

Lu Jiaming struck ruthlessly. He didn’t only want Mu Xing dead—he intended to wipe out the entire Mu family.

He felt no affection for these so-called blood kin. On the contrary, as long as the Mu family lived, they remained a potential threat.

Indeed, Lu Jiaming was no true son of the Marquis household. In terms of venom and cruelty, not one Lu clan member could rival him.

But like Lu Jiayao, he made a fatal mistake—he far too greatly underestimated Mu Xing.

Those assassins thought themselves hidden, but in Mu Xing’s eyes, they were plain as day.

Casting a glance outside, Mu Xing said to his sister-in-law Wang shi, “Sister-in-law, let me sweep the courtyard today.”

Wang shi scolded, displeased: “Such a little chore, I’ll do it. You just go back to your books.”

Mu Xing sighed helplessly. “I just want to move around a little. Sitting all the time is tiring.”

So she finally handed him the broom.

Mu Xing strolled about slowly, broom in hand, circling the house.

That night, the winds were calm, and the Mu family slept soundly.

At dawn, before anyone else rose, Mu Xing slipped out and collected the assassins strewn like corpses all over the ground.

He sealed their inner strength, strung them together with a thick rope like gourds on a vine, and dragged them into a nearby cave.

Then he returned home, lay back on his bed, and feigned sleep, waiting for his family to call him awake.

Two days later, Mu Xing finally “remembered” the men in the cave, and sauntered off leisurely to check on the assassins—by now dizzy and starving.

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