The winter honeysuckle in the courtyard had bloomed—a full trellis of golden flowers with silver stamens, emerald vines clustering together.

The man at the gate had handsome, refined features and wore exquisite, luxurious robes. He was lowering his head to look at a small flower in full bloom.

This was the young master of the Protector General’s mansion, a favored son of heaven born with a golden spoon in his mouth. He had been intelligent and clever since childhood—able to compose poetry at five, mastering literature and law at eight, well-read in classics and history from a young age, skilled in calligraphy and good at writing. Everyone said he was a young genius, and he had a fine appearance with a gentle, refined temperament, benevolent and kind. No matter how one looked at it, heaven had shown him particular favor.

Zanxing had become the young master of the Yang family.

Through countless cycles of reincarnation, she had come to understand that no matter how prosperous and glorious the beginning, one could never escape fate’s bitter fruits in the end. People living in the mortal world must experience the sufferings of separation and death. In this life, though she lived in luxury without worry, it didn’t necessarily mean she would achieve a good ending.

The Yang family’s lord and lady were deeply in love, their affection sincere and profound. Having gained a son in their old age, Zanxing was their only child. When Zanxing was ten years old, they encountered mountain bandits committing evil deeds. An entire merchant family was killed, with only an eight-year-old child surviving by escaping death. Zanxing brought this child back to the mansion, and the Yang family adopted him, giving him the name Zifeng.

Zanxing was very fond of Zifeng.

Having no brothers or sisters and growing up lonely, he suddenly gained a playmate. Pitying the child’s tragic background, he always took special care of him. When he got delicious food, he would certainly share half with Zifeng. When he got interesting things, he would always bring Zifeng along to play. Though they weren’t biological brothers, they were closer than biological brothers. The Yang family couple, being gentle, also treated Zifeng as their own.

Zifeng also loved clinging to Zanxing. Having experienced his parents’ tragic death before his eyes in childhood, he was gentle and timid. When he first came to the Yang mansion, he had to sleep with Zanxing every night. He was often awakened by nightmares, and it was always Zanxing who patiently comforted him. The two brothers cared for and looked after each other, and it seemed their days could continue in such gentleness forever.

“Big Brother,” young Zifeng looked up at him: “It would be wonderful if Big Brother could always be this good to me.”

Zanxing patted his head and smiled: “Of course, we are brothers after all.”

Zanxing never doubted their brotherly bond. When he first accompanied his father on campaign as a youth, he misjudged the enemy situation, suffered defeat, and everyone in the city mocked him behind his back for being all reputation and no substance. The usually gentle Zifeng fought with others for the first time, returning with his face bruised and swollen, yet stubbornly saying: “Who told them to speak ill of my big brother!”

Zanxing laughed heartily, his previous dejection somewhat dispersed: “How brave of you.”

He also never doubted Zifeng’s affection for the Yang family couple. Lady Yang suffered from a chronic cough, and Zifeng personally went up the mountain to gather medicinal herbs and ingredients, brewing medicine for Lady Yang. When he went on campaigns, it was Zifeng who took care of the Yang family elders.

When he was in danger, Zifeng silently supported him from behind. When his official career wasn’t smooth, it was also Zifeng who brought wine to carefully comfort him.

Unknowingly, his achievements became increasingly illustrious and his reputation spread far and wide, while Zifeng also grew from a gentle youth into a handsome young man. Zanxing married and had children. His wife was a young lady from a scholarly family—gentle, well-mannered, beautiful as could topple cities. His young son was intelligent, clever, obedient, and sensible.

Heaven’s favor toward him seemed to end here.

During another campaign, the enemy army seemed to know his troop formations and defensive layouts in advance. They launched surprise attacks all the way, and he returned to the capital in defeat to plead guilty. Just after returning to the capital, he heard news that someone had presented evidence that the Yang family was collaborating with the enemy and betraying the country.

The accuser was none other than Zifeng.

That always gentle and weak youth who smiled while following behind him had seemingly removed his mask like a jackal, his gaze toward him filled with undisguised malice and hatred. Standing in the Golden Palace Hall, he presented one fabricated piece of evidence after another, swearing earnestly as he described the Yang mansion’s years of disloyal scheming. In that moment, Zanxing suddenly understood that perhaps years of intimacy and friendship had all been an illusion.

Officials raided and confiscated the Yang family mansion. His aged parents, weak in health, couldn’t withstand the harsh punishment and died in prison. His beautiful, gentle wife was taken to a private mansion by Zifeng under the pretext of interrogation, where she was possessed and tormented. Unable to bear such humiliation, his wife threw herself into a lake when no one was watching. When he received the news in prison, he felt his soul had been lost.

In the dim lamplight, the dark prison’s deathly silence was broken by footsteps. The young man stood before the prison cell, looking at it with triumphant, wild eyes, as if schemes hidden for many years had finally succeeded, and he couldn’t wait to come show off his results.

Zanxing asked: “Why?”

“Why?” Zifeng looked at him as if seriously considering, then slowly smiled. He stepped forward, stared into Zanxing’s eyes, and said viciously: “Because I hate you.”

“I hate your condescending charity, hate your self-righteous favors. I hate your sympathy and pity, hate your pretentious acts—they’re disgusting.”

Zanxing couldn’t help but interrupt loudly: “But the Yang family never wronged you!”

“So what?” Zifeng smiled disdainfully: “You want the reputation of being good people, but you should see whether others are willing to be beggars.” He stared at Zanxing, his eyes gleaming with jealous light: “Why should you be the famous talented young general while I have to be decorative weeds beside you? Why can you marry the kingdom’s most beautiful official’s daughter, while I can only choose the daughter of an ordinary scholar? If you claim to treat everyone equally, why do you have what I don’t have? You were the ones who were hypocritical first!”

Zanxing stepped back, feeling dizzy: “How could you think this way?”

Zifeng had a gentle nature and mediocre talent. It wasn’t that Father hadn’t planned to let him enter officialdom, but his essays were ordinary and his martial arts mediocre. They had seen him laughing and talking with the scholar’s daughter and thought it was mutual affection…

“If you were dissatisfied, you could have spoken up. Everything could have been discussed. Why did you have to frame us?”

“No need.” Zifeng toyed with the letter in his hand, his lip corners curved in a sinister smile: “I’ve been lying low in the Yang family for so many years just for today. Big Brother, now your wife is mine, your mansion is mine, and in the future, your Yang family’s achievements will also be mine. Since you’ve always loved being a good person, why not go all the way and give me everything you have?”

Zanxing realized something: “What do you want to do?”

“What do I want to do?” He murmured to himself, his handsome face appearing like a malevolent ghost under the prison’s dim lamplight. Though it was a face he saw day and night, it now seemed terrifyingly strange.

Even more terrifying were the words that spilled from his mouth.

He said: “His Majesty is aged and offers heavy rewards for elixirs of immortality.” Zifeng looked at Zanxing, a strange smile in his eyes: “He needs divine fungus blood to refine pills…”

“Your nephew has been intelligent since childhood, with an outstanding appearance that captivates crowds—he’s exactly the spiritual child reincarnated from divine fungus…”

“Yang Zifeng!” Zanxing’s eyes filled with blood. In an instant, he rushed to the iron bars, hoarsely saying: “You’re insane! He’s just a child!”

“So what?” Zifeng smiled coldly: “Even children—I won’t spare them either.”