Chapter 51: Truly a Nemesis

Tianhai, Liu Family Estate.

The Liu Family Estate, in truth, was not large—covering barely ten or so acres. Five villas were scattered along the periphery, enclosing a spacious central garden.

The villas were all of a modern Chinese style, surrounded by rare trees such as ginkgo and cedar. Some were only twenty centimeters in diameter, while the largest were as thick as a man’s waist.

At the heart of the garden lay a modestly sized fish pond, crossed by a stone bridge leading to an octagonal pavilion perched in the center. Half the pond was filled with lotus blooms, the other half left open, where colorful goldfish darted through the water, their lively movement lending a subtle restlessness to the tranquil scene—a restlessness touched with serenity, rather like the Liu family itself, and even more like Old Master Liu.

It was said the Liu family had built its fortune on the jewelry trade, later branching into leather goods manufacturing and commerce. Benefiting from the nation’s reform and opening-up policies, the family had prospered in recent years, rising to the second tier of Tianhai’s prominent clans—perhaps even on the cusp of joining the ranks of the city’s elite.

At the helm stood Liu Qingfeng, over seventy years of age, yet with only a sprinkling of white hair and a healthy flush to his cheeks—perhaps thanks to a lifetime of comfort, he appeared no older than his early sixties. Of average height and build, he favored white tai chi robes, and would stroll about the estate, pausing now and then to practice a set or two of tai chi with casual elegance.

Though he had stepped back from the daily affairs of the Liu family for many years, all important matters remained subject to his final word. Not out of distrust, as he liked to say, but simply because he found it better to have something to occupy his time than to sit idly by.

This day, as was his habit, he wandered the grounds, leaning on his dragon-headed cane.

Creak—the gate opened slowly, admitting a sleek black limousine that glided up the drive and halted before the eastern villa. The rear door swung open, and a middle-aged man stepped out, striding briskly toward Liu Qingfeng.

He was in his forties, with a crew cut and features resembling Liu Qingfeng’s own. Dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and casual trousers, he looked every bit at ease.

“Father,” he greeted respectfully.

“Zihao, come inside. Let’s talk,” Liu Qingfeng beckoned, leading the way to the central villa, with Liu Zihao following close behind.

“Well?” Liu Qingfeng asked impatiently as soon as they were seated.

“The Salt Society was indeed attacked,” Liu Zihao reported at once. “I’ve heard there were twenty or thirty casualties.”

“Have you found out who did it? Was it Chu Tianfeng and his people?” Liu Qingfeng pressed.

“Yes. Apparently, it was Chu Tianfeng’s master—a man of extraordinary martial skill. He stormed the Salt Society’s headquarters alone, set fire to their basement and first floor, and killed or wounded twenty-seven members, including Elder Fei from the security division, and Vice President Chen Yue.”

Liu Qingfeng burst into hearty laughter. “Who would have thought the mighty Salt Society would suffer such a fate! Ha!”

“I’ve also looked into Chu Tianfeng,” Liu Zihao said, rising to pour his father some tea.

“Oh?” Liu Qingfeng’s brows knit together.

But as Liu Zihao crossed the room, his gaze fell on a graceful figure outside the glass window. Changing his mind, he called out, “Qianqian, come in and pour tea for your grandfather.”

A crisp voice replied from outside, “Coming.”

“Well, go on,” Liu Qingfeng urged.

Liu Zihao sat back down. “Chu Tianfeng does possess real skill. It’s said that while filming at Lake Chidori, he befriended a martial artist and later became his disciple. Now his abilities are remarkable. The Salt Society and other sects have tried to capture him several times, but he’s always slipped through their fingers.”

At that moment, the living room door opened, admitting a stunning young woman of eighteen or nineteen. Her skin was fair as snow, her features as delicate as a painted portrait—radiant as carved jade, as fresh as a blossoming flower.

The only flaw lay in her gently furrowed brows—a hint of unspoken sorrow.

“Is Chu Tianfeng really that formidable?” Liu Qingfeng sounded skeptical.

At the mention of “Chu Tianfeng,” the girl’s shoulders trembled.

Liu Zihao picked up the empty teacup, handing it to her. “He is. Rumor has it that he and his master stumbled upon the treasure of Lake Chidori. Martial artists everywhere are searching for them, but despite combing the lake, no one’s found a trace of Chu Tianfeng. Quite a few were injured or killed in the attempt.”

The girl accepted the cup in silence and turned to leave.

Liu Qingfeng stroked the few sparse whiskers on his chin, lost in thought.

“The Salt Society accused Chu Tianfeng of stealing from them, but it’s probably a fabrication,” Liu Zihao scoffed. “From what I hear, they suffered several humiliating defeats at his hands, so now they’re making trouble for us instead.”

“I still find it hard to believe. How long could Chu Tianfeng have been training? Is he really stronger than those who’ve studied martial arts for decades?”

“It seems so. I just called Zhengjun, who said his daughter Xiaowu saw Chu Tianfeng fight in an underground match for money—he knocked out a formidable Thai boxer in just a few moves, earning seven or eight hundred thousand.”

Just then, the girl returned, setting the filled teacup heavily on the table without a word.

Liu Qingfeng didn’t even glance at her, waving his hand dismissively, as if shooing a fly. “Go play.”

The girl wanted to stay and listen, but with her grandfather’s clear dismissal, she dared not disobey. She forced herself to appear nonchalant, turning slowly and walking toward the door.

“Zhengjun also said that during a meal with Chu Tianfeng, the latter cured his bronchitis and tracheitis in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.”

“That’s incredible,” Liu Qingfeng said, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Yes, Father, this Chu Tianfeng is no longer the person he once was,” Liu Zihao could not help but marvel.

Liu Qingfeng’s brow furrowed again.

“Father, perhaps we should reconsider our attitude toward Chu Tianfeng.” Liu Zihao lowered his voice, gesturing at the girl’s retreating figure. “Qianqian is his sister. Our attitude toward her must change as well.”

Indeed, the girl was Liu Qianqian, Chu Tianfeng’s half-sister by another mother.

“How should we change?” Liu Qingfeng tapped his cane against the floor, his tone measured. “Chu Tianfeng’s surname is Chu, not Liu. He’s not one of us and can’t be treated as such. As for Qianqian, ever since her mother died, she’s harbored resentment toward the family. That isn’t something we can change with a few words.”

Liu Qianqian had not yet left the living room and heard everything.

“Hmph!” was her only response before she strode out. But as she reached the door, she suddenly turned back.

“Sorry, I forgot to close the door,” she said, sticking out her tongue before slamming it shut with a bang.

Liu Qingfeng, just about to sip his tea, was startled by the noise and dropped his cup.

Crash—tea splashed everywhere!

“Ow!” Scalding tea soaked his feet, and he leapt up, shaking them vigorously.

“Careful, Father,” Liu Zihao said, dabbing at his father’s feet with a napkin while cursing under his breath. “That wretched girl—just like her mother, a jinx if ever there was one. She’ll never find a husband at this rate.”

“Ah, she’s going to be the death of me,” Liu Qingfeng shook his head. “Neither of that second son’s children brings any peace of mind. The son stirs up trouble everywhere, causing disasters that cost the family over a billion for no reason. The daughter never leaves the house, content only to make the rest of us miserable. Oh!”

“Father, Qianqian’s graduating high school this year, isn’t she?” Liu Zihao asked.

“Yes, but who knows how she did on her exams,” Liu Qingfeng replied, sinking back onto the sofa. “Judging by her attitude, she’ll never get into a good school. I’ll probably have to spend some money to get her into a third-rate college here in Tianhai.”

“Father, I heard Chu Tianfeng’s a student at Tianhai Film Academy. Why not just send the siblings there together?”

“Tianhai Film Academy?” Liu Qingfeng frowned. “Isn’t that for actors? We’re a prestigious family—how could we let one of our own become a performer, exposing herself for the amusement of others?”

Liu Zihao ran a hand over his forehead. “Father, you must be out of touch. These days, being a celebrity is no small thing. Take Xiao Yunmeng and the others—who dares call them actors in jest? The Xiao family is a top-tier family in the capital, far above ours.”

“That won’t do. Qianqian already resents us enough. If we force her to become an actress, she’ll never forgive us.”

“Don’t worry, Father. If you agree, I’ll handle Qianqian. Besides, Film Academy offers more than just acting.”

“Let me consider it.”

Liu Qingfeng leaned back, gazing out the window.

“Father, everything has pros and cons. If the benefits outweigh the drawbacks, it’s worth doing,” Liu Zihao advised.

“Go on, then. What are the benefits here?” As a lifelong businessman, Liu Qingfeng was well-versed in weighing gains and losses.

“Think about it, Father. Chu Tianfeng was raised by Chu Xiang. He likely harbors no goodwill toward us. Now that he’s become formidable, I worry he may threaten us, perhaps even extort us as the Salt Society did.”

Indeed, the Liu family had always refused to acknowledge Chu Xiang and her son. Even when she brought him to pay respects at her husband’s funeral, they were turned away. If Chu Tianfeng bore the family any goodwill, Liu Qingfeng would never have believed it.

“You’re hoping Qianqian will speak for us?” Liu Qingfeng withdrew his gaze, somewhat tempted.

He could hardly help it; he wasn’t the only one in the Liu family—he had to think of the entire clan’s interests.

“Not exactly. Qianqian would be a bridge, connecting us to Chu Tianfeng. How we communicate with him is up to us,” Liu Zihao replied confidently.

“You’re not worried they’ll join forces against us?”

“I doubt it. Qianqian may have a temper, but she’s still a Liu at heart. She was raised here; she’s not a bad person.”

“And Chu Tianfeng? The boy courts trouble everywhere. He’s unlikely to be reasonable.”

“We don’t need to become close with him—just hope he’ll change his opinion of us a little, so he doesn’t hate or resent us. That would suffice.”

“Then why go to all this trouble?”

“Father, think about it—even if we don’t seek to benefit from Chu Tianfeng, wherever he goes, people will say he’s one of us, the second son’s child.”

“You have a point,” Liu Qingfeng admitted, tapping his cane on the floor. “But won’t this risk provoking the Salt Society?”

“Father, is the Salt Society satisfied with us now? No matter what we do, they won’t leave us alone. As long as we don’t openly support Chu Tianfeng, they’ll have no grounds to act against us.”

“Very well.” After a moment’s thought, Liu Qingfeng relented. “You handle this, but Qianqian mustn’t study acting—any other major will do.”