Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Power of Love

As soon as Mengya mentioned she had a good idea, my interest was piqued. This girl was indeed resourceful and possessed a sharp mind.
“What’s your brilliant plan? Let’s hear it,” I asked, full of anticipation.
Mengya gave me a playful slap. “Are you silly? Just call Yu Xianzhi and ask him.”
Her words struck me like a bolt of lightning. I smacked my own forehead. “Ah, why didn’t I think of him?” But then, after a moment’s thought, I sighed. “You make it sound so easy. With that sour face of his, do you really think he’ll agree?”
Mengya shook her head, a mysterious smile curling at her lips. “Who knows? Just give him a call and see. If that doesn’t work, I have a trump card that’ll guarantee his help.”
Seeing her so confident, I nodded. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was already half past ten—Yu Xianzhi was probably already asleep. Still, I picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hello.” Yu Xianzhi’s voice came through the line.
“Taoist Yu, sorry to disturb your rest. Is this a good time to talk?” I asked, my tone as polite as possible.
Yu Xianzhi responded in a lofty, almost condescending way. “Say what you need to say.”
I broke out in a cold sweat. Truth be told, I felt a deep wariness—almost a hint of fear—toward this ‘Shaman Family.’ His tone only made my heart pound faster, but I muddled through, explaining the situation as best I could.
Before I could finish, he cut me off. “That’s enough. I can’t help with this.”
“Why not?”
“If this were in Beijing, my family could handle it. But Hong Kong isn’t our territory,” he replied, full of official indifference.
I was mortified and stammered, “Then, is there any chance… any chance you could come to Hong Kong yourself? We’ll cover your airfare.”
Yu Xianzhi let out a cold laugh. “Brother, what’s our relationship? I have no time for this. Handle your own affairs. I need to rest.” With that, he hung up.
His dismissive treatment left me in a cold sweat. Mengya, seeing my disheveled state, covered her mouth and chuckled.
“So you just wanted to see Yu Xianzhi berate me, huh? If you have a trump card, use it already,” I said, shooting her a sideways glance.
Mengya pointed at the room next door. “That’s my trump card.”
I understood instantly—Xiaoxue. Yu Xianzhi always obeyed her. I snorted, “If you’d told me earlier, I wouldn’t have had to endure Yu Xianzhi’s scolding. He practically made me feel like less than dirt.”
“I just didn’t want you to go see her—I was afraid you’d go to comfort her,” Mengya said disdainfully.
I rolled my eyes. Was I really such a lecher? But then I laughed, “If you’re jealous, why don’t you talk to her yourself?”
“You just want to see the two of us fight, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Good point. I’ll go now.”
I walked to Xiaoxue’s room next door and knocked.

“Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Xiaoxue sounded surprised. “Brother Qiutong? Give me a moment!”
Fifteen minutes later, Xiaoxue opened the door. What I saw left me momentarily speechless.
She wore an elegant white nightgown, her long black hair still slightly damp, cascading like a waterfall. Without makeup, she looked less mature than usual, instead radiating a pure, innocent charm, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush that was utterly captivating.
“Qiutong, please, stop staring. Come in,” Xiaoxue said, her head bowed, her voice stammering.
Realizing my rudeness in gawking at her, I quickly averted my eyes and nodded, embarrassed, following her inside.
She sat on a chair, looking slightly uncomfortable, her head lowered in silence.
“Um, Xiaoxue, I need a favor,” I stammered.
She blinked, a faint, barely perceptible smile appearing on her lips. “Just say it. I’ll help.”
I nodded and recounted everything—from the elevator incident to Xiaowu’s ghost money. Xiaoxue’s face shifted from joy to shock, her eyes wide with fear.
“Stop, stop! You’re scaring me,” she said, her face turning pale.
I sighed. “I just called Yu Xianzhi.”
“What did he say?”
“Uh…” I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. Xiaoxue immediately sensed something was off, huffed in annoyance, grabbed her phone, and dialed Yu Xianzhi on speaker.
“Xiaoxue, where are you? Do you need something?” Yu Xianzhi’s voice came through, suddenly soft and attentive, a stark contrast to his earlier arrogance.
“Yu Xianzhi, did you hear what Qiutong told you about our situation?” Xiaoxue’s tone was firm and unyielding.
Yu Xianzhi was clearly intimidated by her. After a long pause, he stammered, “I didn’t know you were there…” He seemed to consider for a moment, then sighed, “Here’s the thing—he was too vague, so I couldn’t give a clear answer. I’ll buy a ticket and come over tomorrow, is that alright?”
Xiaoxue finally softened a little. “Don’t drag your feet. That’s all.”
Yu Xianzhi tried to say something else, but Xiaoxue hung up before he could finish.
“Qiutong, will this do?” she asked, smoothing her hair.
I thought to myself, every force has its counter. I smiled. “Of course that’ll do. Just, next time, don’t be so harsh with Yu Xianzhi. After all, we’re asking for his help.”
Xiaoxue huffed pridefully. “That kind of person needs to be handled this way—wine and welcome all the way.”
I chuckled and stood to leave. Just then, Xiaoxue grabbed my arm. “Brother Qiu, I’m really scared after hearing all that. Will you stay with me for a while?”

My face turned pale at her request. Alone, just the two of us? That wouldn’t be proper, especially with Mengya waiting next door. I quickly waved her off. “You should get some sleep. I don’t want to disturb your rest.”
“Why would you?” she replied, wrapping her arms around my waist, looking up at me with a sweet smile. Her beautiful face carried a subtle allure.
My mind went blank for a moment—this girl was bold. If I stayed any longer, something was bound to happen. I quickly extricated myself, awkwardly saying, “Xiaoxue, it’s been a long day. You should really get some rest. I need to go sleep too.” With that, I left her room.

“No!”

Far away, inside the Five Immortals Hall of TRT in Beijing, Yu Tianhua was sternly scolding his son, Yu Xianzhi.
“Father, even if you forbid me, I have to go. Nothing you say will change my mind today…”
Smack! Smack!
Yu Tianhua landed two forceful slaps on Yu Xianzhi’s face, leaving clear red marks.
“So you dare speak to me like that now?” he shouted, grabbing a thick piece of luohan bamboo from the altar.
Seeing his father reach for the ancestral rod, Yu Xianzhi immediately dropped to his knees with a thud.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
Yu Tianhua whipped Yu Xianzhi’s back with the family rod, each blow cutting through the air with a sharp crack. Soon, blood seeped through the back of Yu Xianzhi’s white shirt, his skin split open from the beating.
Panting, Yu Tianhua looked down at his kneeling son, who showed no sign of retreat or submission. With tears of pain in his eyes, Yu Tianhua let out a long sigh. “Sons grow up and won’t be ruled by their fathers. So be it. Today, I’ll beat you to death.” With that, he raised the rod and continued to strike Yu Xianzhi’s bleeding back.
Again, the sound of strikes echoed like thunder. Beads of sweat the size of beans dripped from Yu Xianzhi’s face onto the floor. He clenched his eyes shut, his body swaying.
“Tianhua, stop.”
At the sound of an aged voice, Yu Tianhua paused and looked up. His father and mother were seated in the main hall, though he hadn’t noticed their arrival.
“Father, Mother, what brings you here? I bow to you both,” he said, bowing deeply.
“Tianhua, let him go. Life and death are fate, wealth and honor are in heaven’s hands. You and I will eventually ascend anyway,” the old man, Yu Chengda, said with a gentle smile.
“But Father, that person…”
Yu Tianhua tried to protest, but Yu Chengda waved him off and glanced at the nearly unconscious Yu Xianzhi, kneeling on the floor. With a sigh, his face took on a worried expression.