The Male Lead Always Thinks My Script is Wrong - Chapter 12

The Ji family, a clan that appeared quite frequently in the original novel, had an influence that stretched far beyond Wuzhou, making them a renowned noble house in the Southern Lands.

However, according to the setting, the Ji family’s current standing was built entirely on the ruins of the Xiao family, one of the original three great surnames. They lacked any significant magical artifacts or secret realms of their own.

This was precisely why they were pushing so hard for the marriage alliance to secure the secret key. In the Zhongxiao Realm, where cultivators were as common as grass and sects or noble houses could be found at every turn, relying solely on leeching off others for profit was not a sustainable long-term strategy without a strong foundation to attract talent.

This context was exactly why Ji Shinian had felt no hesitation in saying those things to his “fiancé” right in front of Li Moyan. The Ji family intended to squeeze every last drop of utility out of the Xiao family, so why would they care about showing the protagonist any respect?

Regardless, none of that mattered to him. Ji Shinian adjusted the veiled hat he had borrowed from the Zhuang family and sat comfortably inside the carriage.

Since he was playing the “Young Mistress,” he might as well enjoy the prestige that came with the title.

In Chaofeng City, an antique carriage pulled to a stop on the wide street. A tall man stood on the three steps leading up to a grand entrance, beneath a plaque that bore the name “Ji Manor” in sweeping, elegant calligraphy. Despite the noisy crowd surrounding him, he kept his eyes forward, quietly watching the carriage.

Li Moyan had already announced their arrival, but there was no movement from the vehicle. If not for the faint sound of shallow breathing coming from within, one might have suspected it was empty.

“Hey, wasn’t Miss Ji supposed to return yesterday? She’s a day late, did something happen?”

“Hah, Li Moyan went to fetch her himself. Didn’t you see someone’s in that carriage?”

“It’s just that the marriage between the Ji and Xiao families is too cursed. No wonder there’s no movement. Maybe the Young Mistress lived in the countryside so long she’s too scared to come out?”

“The ‘countryside’ where the Ji family fosters their kids isn’t the same as our countryside! Maybe she’s just overwhelmed to be home. Look, even the Eldest Young Master isn’t in a hurry.”

“Speaking of which, why haven’t we seen the Head of the Ji family or his wife today?”

The return of the daughter of one of the three great local families was no small event in Chaofeng City. Even though she was a day late, the street in front of the Ji Manor was packed with several layers of onlookers, ranging from locals on their day off to passing rogue cultivators. Seeing the carriage remain still, they couldn’t help but gossip.

Naturally, the group standing at the manor gates wasn’t deaf or blind to the commotion.

“Shuangyuan,” a woman in a pale dress standing beside the tall man whispered anxiously, “what is Xiaoyun waiting for?”

She turned to give an order. “Xiao Li, hurry up and”

“No need.” The man, who had remained expressionless, seemed thoughtful after hearing the crowd’s whispers. He cut the woman off directly. “Thank you for your hard work, Aunt.”

Though his tone was polite, everyone in front of the Ji Manor fell silent immediately.

Inside the carriage, Ji Shinian was secretly having a blast.

It was a joke, really. This Ji Shuangyuan had attained the “Clear Understanding” stage by the age of twenty. Now, at twenty-five, he was at the peak of that stage, essentially half a step into the Golden Core realm. In a place like Wuzhou, where Golden Core cultivators were few and far between, he was hailed as a golden phoenix reborn, a peerless genius.

Not to mention, he was the only son of the main branch. His status alone allowed him to walk through Chaofeng City with his head held high.

Outside, the legendary Ji Shuangyuan walked toward the carriage under the watchful eyes of the crowd. Li Moyan reflexively moved aside and bowed to invite him forward.

Ji Shuangyuan nodded. He stepped onto the footstool, reached the carriage door, and slightly lowered his head as he lifted a corner of the curtain, extending a hand inside.

“Sister, it has been a long journey,” Ji Shuangyuan said. “Father and Mother had to leave on urgent business yesterday, so they specifically commanded me to stay home and wait for your return.”

His voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just right for everyone present to hear.

That one sentence caused a hush to fall over the street. Everyone stared at the partially lifted curtain.

There was still no movement from inside.

Ji Shuangyuan didn’t speak again. He pulled the curtain back further, enough for someone to stoop and exit, and with remarkable patience, he extended his hand further inward.

“Is that so? Then I must thank you, Brother.”

A soft, velvety voice suddenly rang out from the carriage. The tone was arrogant, as if the world naturally belonged to her, yet it carried an underlying, irritating sense of disdain for all living things.

The Young Mistress finally allowed herself to be escorted out by Ji Shuangyuan.

She wore a veiled hat, the white gauze draping over half her body, leaving only the hem of a long, flowing blue skirt trailing on the ground. As her right hand rested on her brother’s, one could see her fingers were slender and long, her skin as smooth as jade. The gauze fell to either side of her arm, revealing a long red silk ribbon tied to her waist, the rest of the belt hidden beneath the misty white fabric.

Such a figure, veiled and mysterious, invited endless imagination.

Ignoring the countless prying eyes, Ji Shinian allowed Ji Shuangyuan to support him as he stepped down. He complained, “Nobody came to greet me just now. This hat makes it so hard to see, don’t you know how annoying that is?”

Ji Shuangyuan was momentarily speechless. “…Indeed.”

“Right?” Ji Shinian pretended not to notice the awkwardness. He scanned the people at the door through his veil. “Uh, who are you people?”

“Oh my, I’m your Second Aunt! Your Second and Third Uncles went out with your parents—your Eldest Uncle and Aunt—yesterday. They took your two older cousins along, too.” The woman in pale clothes stepped forward, dragging a shrinking, timid man beside her. “But someone wanted to stay home and wait for you. Look, this is your third cousin. Come, Ningzhen, say hello to your sister!”

“H-hello, Sister.” Ji Ningzhen stole a quick glance at Ji Shinian before ducking his head again.

“You child!” The woman scolded him for his lack of spirit, then turned back to Ji Shinian with a bright smile. “Ningzhen usually stays away from people. He’s just shy because his sister looks like a goddess. Xiaoyun, don’t take it to heart.”

What Xiaoyun? Ji Shinian’s brow twitched. He asked in confusion, “Oh… who is Xiaoyun?”

He asked with total confidence, and for good reason.

Ji Shinian didn’t think he had early-onset dementia. He remembered the Mountain Master telling him that the Ji family’s daughter had been sent away right after birth. The main family hadn’t given her a name yet. Her name was something she had chosen for herself, and she hadn’t bothered to tell the Ji family.

The woman froze, as if caught off guard, and stammered, “This, this is…”

“Let’s go inside,” Ji Shuangyuan interrupted.

At his command, the members of the Ji family turned back into quiet quails. The woman nodded repeatedly. “Yes, Xiao…”

She stopped, realizing she didn’t know her “niece’s” actual name, hesitating and stumbling over her words.

Ji Shinian helpfully added, “Ji Shinian. ‘Shinian’ as in ‘ten years’ of flowing time.”

“What a wonderful name,” the woman praised with a smile, her face showing no hint of embarrassment. “Little Shinian, you must be exhausted from the road. You should rest first. Look at your aunt, I was so busy catching up that I forgot the time.”

While his aunt was ushering him into the manor, Ji Shinian noticed a slight shift in Ji Shuangyuan’s expression. Li Moyan stood by the road for a moment, then, as if receiving a signal, he got onto the carriage and drove it toward the other end of the street.

It looked like a sound transmission.

Ji Shinian remembered Li Moyan’s mention of the Sword Alliance and figured he was likely informing Ji Shuangyuan about Zhou Hongluan. He just wondered how he himself had been described in that report.

He casually withdrew his gaze and followed his “cheap” brother and his few relatives into the manor.

The Ji family was not particularly large; in Ji Hengyi’s generation, there were only three branches. The hall was about the size of two side rooms. Past the screen, a painting of mountains, pines, and cranes hung high in the center, flanked by a pair of neatly written couplets. Rosewood chairs were lined up below. The guest of honor’s seat was now covered with a soft, pale-yellow cushion, and fragrant tea emitted a light mist.

Ji Shuangyuan led Ji Shinian and the others into the hall. He guided Ji Shinian to the seat of honor before taking the main seat himself. “You’ve had a long and tiring journey, so there’s no need for excessive pleasantries. Our parents had your courtyard prepared long ago. I’ve checked it myself; all the furnishings are new. However, I am not a girl after all. If there is anything not to your liking, just tell the housekeeper.”

As he spoke, he pointed to a tall, slender woman among the servants. “This is Housekeeper Zhou. If you can’t find her, come to me, or you can speak to our parents.”

“Greetings, Young Mistress,” Housekeeper Zhou bowed to Ji Shinian. “I am usually in the manor. If you need anything, please just give the word.”

Ji Shinian was too lazy to guess the hidden meanings in their words. He gave a half-hearted “okay.” Seeing that Ji Shuangyuan was about to speak again, he thought to himself, This doesn’t look like ‘no excessive pleasantries’ at all.

“Fine,” Ji Shinian interrupted decisively. “I’m home now. It’s not like I can be bullied to death. I’m too lazy to learn everyone’s names one by one; I just need to know that I’m the master here.”

“Sister.” Ji Shuangyuan paused, sighed helplessly, and waved a hand at the standing servants. “You may all leave. Remember that this is the Young Mistress of our Ji family. From now on, seeing her is the same as seeing me. If there are any lapses in service, I trust you know the consequences.”

“Understood!” The servants looked surprised, but they lowered their heads and bowed as they exited the hall.

“Very well. Would you like to rest first?” Ji Shuangyuan asked, glancing at his aunt and Ji Ningzhen. “Or would you like to catch up with your aunt and cousin?”

Ji Shinian could tell that Ji Shuangyuan was clearly the pillar of the Ji family. If his cousin seemed like the silent type, his slick aunt hadn’t dared to interrupt a single word since they met. In such an atmosphere, it was hard not to conclude that Ji Shuangyuan was the undisputed authority in the household.

No wonder the servants were so shocked. Ji Shinian recalled the looks on their faces as they left; it seemed his arrival as the “Mistress” from the countryside was quite the unexpected turn of events.

“No. I just want to ask one thing.” Ji Shinian saw the other two in the hall focusing their gaze on him. “So, who is Xiaoyun?”

“It’s you. Shinian is also a very nice name,” Ji Shuangyuan said concisely, looking toward the aunt who had first used the name.

“Xiaoyun is you, of course,” the aunt said, sitting on her rosewood chair with a kind smile. “Shuangyuan is right. You lived away for so long, your parents naturally missed their daughter. They registered this formal name for you in the ancestral hall—Ji Yun. Isn’t it a lovely name?”

Ji Shinian found it a bit hard to play along. If they had told him earlier that there was a name already waiting for him, why on earth would he have used his real name?

Was he just waiting to be mocked by the protagonist later for using his own identity?

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