The Eldest Brother is Handsome but Sick. - Chapter 17

The Hidden Legacy

“Uncle Wang, before my father passed away, did he ever say anything to you regarding me?”

This courtyard had been specially built for Yan Jin during his childhood to ensure he could play to his heart’s content. After he left, his father, showing consideration for Steward Wang’s old age, had assigned the courtyard to him as a residence.

Yan Jin looked around. Although the furnishings had changed significantly, he could still recall its former appearance from small, lingering details.

Steward Wang still had acupuncture needles in him. Fearing that his previous actions might have truly provoked the old man to a dangerous degree, Yan Jin had to prioritize soothing his anger first.

The old man sat opposite Yan Jin with his eyes closed in silence. Just as Yan Jin thought he would get no answer, he suddenly heard him speak: “The Master left something for you.”

Supporting himself by his knees, Steward Wang rose slowly. After the recent ordeal, his movements had slowed; his hunched back made him look much older. He pulled a chest from beside the wardrobe and rummaged through it for a long time, finally finding a wooden box at the very bottom.

The box was carefully wrapped in several layers of cotton cloth, with not even a single corner exposed.

Yan Jin opened the wooden box and looked inside, feeling a wave of confusion. There were no precious jewels or gold. Instead, it was filled with the most unremarkable little trinkets.

There were carved wooden birds, a cage for crickets, a palm-sized slingshot, various beautiful pebbles…

The most prominent item was a book. On its cover, three figures were drawn two large and one small. They stood beneath a tree, and the small one was being held up to reach the flowers.

Yan Jin felt a faint sense of familiarity with this image. He opened the book. The first page again showed the three figures, but the scene had changed to them sleeping under the tree. The second page contained words:

I have a son, hahaha! I’ve named him Jin. He is a great treasure and looks exactly like his mother truly beautiful. I wanted to take him to show off to my Eldest Brother, but his mother ended up twisting my ear and lecturing me for half the day.

The teacher praised my son as a rare talent of this generation. Hey! As expected of my son.

A-Jin’s spirits are low. I want to take him out to play, but his health is always poor.

I’ve thought of a way: I’ll make some folk trinkets to amuse him at home.

A failure. Compared to playing, he seems to prefer reading and writing.

Both mother and son are ill; what is to be done? Failing to care for my wife is my fault; failing to give my child a healthy body is also my fault. To all the gods and immortals, I repent for my sins—could you all grant me a way to cure them?

They are cured! Thank you, Great Immortals! This humble one will go to fulfill my vows immediately!

Grandfather wants me to go out and practice business to take over the Yan family, but I only want to stay with them forever.

After that, the writing vanished, replaced by rows of vertical tally marks. As Yan Jin turned the pages, the lines became shorter and denser. Some were crooked or of varying thickness, as if the person drawing them was restless and extremely agitated.

He flipped through more than half the book in this manner until a few lines of text suddenly reappeared:

In the seventh year after you left, A-Jin is leaving too. I was originally against it, but that day, the sparrow I sent him was returned, and then I knew…

“And then I knew our child had grown up, and I should let him do what he wishes to do,” Yan Jin whispered, his thumb gently brushing over the final words.

He read them many times until his lips began to tremble.

He slammed the book shut. Suddenly, many memories resurfaced the past he had buried out of resentment.

Around the winter his mother passed away, he had also fallen gravely ill. The System’s energy was unstable, and the doctors here could not cure him. Thus, he lay in bed every day, neither eating nor drinking, waiting for death.

One day, his father burst in with servants, dragged him off the bed, and threw him directly into the courtyard.

At that time, the servants were at their busiest, and everyone passing by saw him crawling on the ground, unable to move.

“Seeking death like this? Useless!”

“Men, bring porridge! Force it down his throat!”

Perhaps his father meant well, but the humiliation of being pinned down and force-fed that day, combined with the porridge spilled all over his body, was something he remembered for a long time.

It was in that way that his shattered body was pieced back together, bit by bit, by an overwhelming sense of indignation, turning him into the Yan Jin he was today.

Yan Jin supported himself as he stood up, gripping the edge of the table to remain steady.

This book was like a key that had unlocked a prison door. The emotions he had suppressed since learning of his father’s death came surging up. This overwhelming complexity left him feeling powerless. He didn’t know what to do first, and finally, he actually let out a laugh: “My biological father is truly my biological father.”

“Young Master.” Steward Wang watched him for a long time, his gaze filled with an indescribable sorrow. “Will you never return after you leave this time?”

“Yes. That was also my father’s intention.” Yan Jin lowered his eyes and packed away the wooden box before saying, “Though it was my fault for having someone knock you out, it was your fault for forcing me back and imprisoning me. We are even.”

He suddenly smiled brightly. “Uncle Wang, please don’t hold a grudge.”

With that, he cradled the wooden box in his arms and walked out. Just then, a “thud” came from behind him. He looked back to see Steward Wang kneeling on both knees, kowtowing to Yan Jin.

“If that is the case, this place is no longer the Yan Estate of old. This old slave has no reason to stay here. Young Master, please let me leave.”

The Final Letter

Yan Jin, my son:

When your mother was gravely ill, I feared failing the trust of my grandfather’s family business and did not return home, thus failing your mother. Afterward, my regret was beyond remedy, and my grief damaged my health, leading to the family business falling into other hands—another breach of faith toward my grandfather. Now, passing away so early, I have again failed my duties as a father.

Your father has been mediocre and incompetent all his life; there is no need to feel sorrow for me.

Things having come to this, I have only two words for you: Take care.

May my son live a hundred years.

The sky was now as dark as ink. Yan Jin sat alone at the stone table in the courtyard and took out a letter the very one he had accidentally discovered in his room earlier.

He had read this letter many times before going to see Steward Wang; he knew the shape and placement of every word even with his eyes closed.

He had been away from home for eight years. He had gone from raising a “Little White Plum” to being the last child of the one who raised a “Little White Plum.” Because his mother had given him that name, he had carried it on.

The past cannot be recovered. Yan Jin, having lived two lives, often felt he saw things more clearly than others, yet he hadn’t realized that during those muddled days, there was a parental love he had failed to perceive.

“I searched the whole Yan Estate and couldn’t find you. I thought you were really kneeling in the ancestral hall, but here you are in the courtyard where your father lived.”

A shout came from behind him. Yan Jin placed the letter back in the box before looking back. Zhou Qingheng was leaning lazily against the courtyard gate, carrying two jars of wine. He walked up and set the jars on the table. “Come, let’s drink! Forget all those sad things once the wine is gone.”

“Don’t you dare let him drink anymore. If he drinks again, he’ll lose his life.” Wuxue walked in from the side gate, placing medicine in front of Yan Jin. She said to Zhou Qingheng, “He coughed up blood twice before from emotional distress and hasn’t recovered yet. Just now, for some reason, his face was as white as a dead man’s. If you push him to drink again, I’ll beat you up even if you are the Young Master’s uncle.”

Hearing this, Zhou Qingheng immediately surrendered. “I’ll drink! I’ll drink! My lady, don’t be angry—I promise not to let him touch a drop.”

Only then was Wuxue satisfied, letting out a soft huff before turning to leave.

“This girl is certainly becoming more capable.” Zhou Qingheng suddenly remembered something and laughed. “I recall my sister originally raised her to be your wife. You’re both not getting any younger; shouldn’t you consider it?”

Yan Jin picked up the medicine, blew on it, and said, “Uncle, if you say that one more time, I will never see you again.”

Zhou Qingheng surrendered once more. “Fine, fine, my little ancestor. I was wrong.”

At this moment, the moonlight was like white silk, quietly flooding the entire courtyard.

The pear blossoms overhead were in full bloom in thick clusters. As a breeze brushed past, snowy petals drifted down from the branches, landing perfectly in the wine jar Zhou Qingheng had opened.

He fished out a petal and sighed, “Tsk. Drinking with petals as a side dish I’ve finally been elegant for once.”

Yan Jin glanced at him. “I just saw bugs on the tree.”

Zhou Qingheng: “…” This brat.

“You just can’t stand to see your uncle happy!”

Yan Jin’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “This pear tree was planted by my father and mother together.”

Back then it was just a sapling; now it provided a canopy of shade.

“I used to think my father was cold toward me in my childhood because he didn’t like me. But thinking back now, before mother passed away, I often saw him smile. Sometimes when we played together, I would see how much they loved each other.”

Yan Jin continued, “After mother passed, he became much quieter. I even caught him trying to take his own life once, but only that one time; I never saw it again afterward.”

“I held onto resentment during my youth without knowing the truth. I only just realized that he always wanted to leave this world, and it was I who tied him down for so long.”

Just as he had written in that book: A-Jin is still so small. It would be nothing if I died, but if he happened to see it, it would be too cruel for him.

Petals fell into the medicinal soup, creating ripples.

Yan Jin inhaled the clear fragrance of the pear blossoms on the wind. The wind enveloped him, exactly like the feeling of being picked up by his father years ago to pick pear blossoms with his mother.

Clink.

The rim of the medicine bowl was tapped by a wine jar.

“Learning to pull a long face at such a young age you’re learning the bad habits instead of the good ones.” Zhou Qingheng tilted his head back and downed a gulp of wine, letting out a satisfied cry. “What are you afraid of? Your uncle is here to support you. Live well from now on; there are plenty of good days ahead.”

“Uncle is right.” Yan Jin responded by clinking his bowl back. Thus, one drank medicine while the other drank wine, and both finished every drop.

Of the illustrious Yan and Zhou families of Yangzhou, only he and his uncle remained.

At this thought, a person suddenly appeared in Yan Jin’s mind.

Su Huai had once cradled his hand and asked: “Will you stay with me from now on? I will treat you as my elder brother.”

Hmm… it wasn’t just two of them; he also had a younger brother. Even if he didn’t share the Yan surname or belong to the Yan clan.

Perhaps he should find a time to trick him into taking his surname?

While Yan Jin was pondering how to trick the boy, he also grew worried about Su Huai’s current situation. For a moment, he was so anxious he wanted to set off immediately.

However, this plan could not be realized. He was dragged back to the Zhou household to help his aunt maintain her pregnancy. Zhou Qingheng used the excuse that it was a waste not to use a divine doctor when they had one, keeping him busy around the clock.

It was only three days later that he finally found time to send off the letter he had written to Su Huai. To his surprise, as soon as he returned to the Zhou house, he saw a carrier pigeon from the Hall of Three Lives. The note was in Xia Qingyan’s handwriting.

It read: Junior Brother disregarded our attempts to stop him and has gone traveling with Junior Brother Lin. By the time Senior Brother receives this, they should be near Huaian. We look forward to Senior Brother’s swift decision.

“…” Yan Jin fell silent. Excellent. He hadn’t even made it back yet, and his person had already run off.

He was about to let out a long, melancholy sigh when a name flashed through his mind. The breath he was exhaling got stuck, causing him to choke violently.

Wait. Su Huai and who?

He turned the note over and over, reading it many times before confirming he hadn’t misread it.

Lin Jiebai!

God damn it. That was the ancestor who would lead people straight into a brothel!

Yan Jin took a deep breath, feeling instinctively that this would not end well. He endured the frustration as long as he could, but finally reached his limit. He pulled a horse out and prepared to leave the city.

Zhou Qingheng was shocked, chasing after him. “Where are you going now?”

Yan Jin grit his teeth. “Catching someone!”