Most of the time, the so-called “having no choice” is nothing but self-deception.
After all, before choosing the “only option,” you can still choose not to choose.
Take Wang Sandong, for example.
She could have simply declined.
Is it right to let others die just so you can live?
On the other hand, is it necessarily correct to give up living yourself in order to prevent others from dying?
Perhaps there has never been a clear right or wrong.
Maybe it’s just the self-justification of a堕落 human nature…
Life is a series of choices, and occasionally, you truly have no choice.
But most of the time, the so-called “having no choice” is nothing but self-deception.
Dragging her weak body along in the funeral procession, Wang Sandong listened to Wang Yunteng’s sorrowful wails ahead of her.
A strange sense of detachment washed over her, as if she didn’t belong to this world or to these people.
The wind was slightly cool.
Autumn was approaching.
Paper money fluttered in the sky, most of it falling softly to the ground, while a few sheets were carried away into the distance by the wind.
Wang Sandong coughed twice, feeling waves of exhaustion.
Originally, she could have skipped the funeral.
But she insisted on coming.
Yet she had no strength to spare.
If Wang Tong hadn’t been supporting her, she would have collapsed long ago.
The funeral procession finally arrived at the Wang Family Cemetery outside the city.
The soil on Second Master Wang Zhongli’s grave was still fresh.
Right next to it was the newly dug grave pit for Third Master Wang Zhongxin.
Seeing this, the wailing in the procession suddenly grew louder.
Even those with hearts of stone felt a pang of sorrow, thinking of the misfortunes that had befallen the Wang family one after another.
A sudden commotion arose in the crowd.
It came as no surprise.
Wang Sandong had finally collapsed from exhaustion.
A single thought surfaced in everyone’s mind:
Before long, the Wang family would have another funeral.
No one believed Wang Sandong would live to see autumn.
Even the most optimistic thought she absolutely couldn’t make it through the winter—no matter how many miraculous medicines the Wang family used.
Wang Sandong was going to die.
She had always been in a state of “about to die.”
Rumors of “Third Young Master Wang’s passing” circulated around the streets three to five times a year.
For sixteen years, Wang Sandong had “died” countless times in the public’s perception.
This time, Wang Sandong “died” again.
After being “dead” for a day and a night, Wang Sandong finally opened her eyes.
Seeing this, Wang Tong wept tears of joy and rushed off shouting to inform Yuan Di, Zheng Xiao, and the others.
Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief, including Yuan Di.
Even Yuan Di couldn’t be certain whether the new version of Return to Heaven would fail—whether it would fail to keep Wang Sandong’s life hanging by a thread.
After all, she had never practiced the new Return to Heaven; all her understanding of it was based on theoretical deduction.
Fortunately, Wang Sandong was lucky.
After a few days of rest, she recovered to her usual state—that frail, deathly appearance.
Wang Yunteng came to visit her, bringing some tonics.
Looking at Wang Yunteng, who had noticeably lost weight, Wang Sandong felt a tightness in her chest.
“Brother Teng…”
She wanted to say something, but the words stuck in her throat.
Wang Yunteng forced a faint smile and asked:
“Feeling better? I wanted to visit you earlier, but it wasn’t appropriate to go out before the seventh day.”
“Yeah, much better.”
Wang Sandong looked at Wang Yunteng’s haggard face and said:
“You need to take care of yourself. You still have Third Aunt to look after.”
Wang Yunteng was silent for a moment, then sighed:
“Third Brother, sometimes I really envy you.”
“Not being pinned with expectations must be very easy and carefree, right?”
Before Wang Sandong could reply, he added:
“I know.”
Wang Yunteng had said similar things many times.
Though he had never said it outright, Wang Sandong could already feel the pressure weighing on him.
For Wang Yunteng, his parents’ hopes of “seeing their son become a dragon” must have been like a mountain, crushing him long ago.
Wang Sandong frowned slightly and said after a pause:
“Just live for yourself.”
Wang Yunteng was silent for a while, then shook his head with a smile.
“If Aunt were sighing and complaining in front of you every day, how could you bear to ignore her?”
He sighed again and continued:
“How hard-hearted would you have to be to be indifferent?”
Wang Sandong was speechless.
Wang Yunteng looked up at the sky, gritting his teeth, his face twitching.
“Some things are hard to say to outsiders.”
He paused, then added:
“Actually, when I received the news of my father’s death, I felt a bizarre sense of relief, as if I had escaped disaster.”
He gave a bitter laugh and shook his head.
“I’m overthinking it. Compared to my father’s harsh scoldings, my mother’s silent expectations are even more tormenting.”
A quick blade kills; a soft blade wears away.
Wang Yunteng’s expression gradually relaxed.
“Fortunately, your sister-in-law, though bad-tempered, is content with a simple life.”
“That’s good.”
Wang Sandong noticed Wang Yunteng’s relief.
“If she also wanted you to become a dragon, you’d be in trouble.”
“Yeah.”
Wang Yunteng laughed heartily, then clicked his tongue:
“Not necessarily. Maybe I’d reach my limit and finally harden my heart.”
He turned to look at Wang Sandong and said:
“Compared to reaching your limit, enduring is more painful.”
“Makes sense.”
The two brothers smiled at each other and then chatted about some trivial matters from Wang Zhongxin’s funeral.
Later, Wang Yunteng said he planned to go to the New Capital in a few days to visit Wang Jinghong and Cui Jinnian, and to clear his mind along the way.
Finally, he frankly admitted that he wanted to get away from his mother’s sighs and complaints, to hide out for a few days of peace.
Wang Sandong pursed her lips and said:
“Third Uncle said you were supposed to take me to the New Capital.”
“Not this time.”
Wang Yunteng said:
“I want to go alone.”
“Alright.”
Two days later, Wang Yunteng left the Old Capital for the New Capital.
That same day, Yuan Di quietly left the house again, just like last time, and no one knew where she went.
Zheng Xiao wasn’t home either—she had probably gone to play chess with her grandfather, Wang Fa.
Opportunity knocks.
Wang Sandong pushed open the door to the Qin Room.
Staring at the black Demon Zither suspended in the center of the room, Wang Sandong hesitated for a moment, then used Soul Snatching.
A shadow detached from Wang Sandong’s body.
Its eyes, devoid of whites, stared fixedly at the various weapons within the Hundred Weapons Formation.
It cautiously entered the formation, looking ready to flee at any moment.
Inside the Hundred Weapons Formation, all the weapons remained motionless.
As if they hadn’t noticed the shadow’s intrusion.
If the Hundred Weapons Formation didn’t react, Zheng Xiao wouldn’t sense anything.
The shadow gradually grew bolder, but still advanced step by step, cautiously.
Finally, the Demon Zither was within reach.
The shadow no longer hesitated.
It reached out decisively and placed its hand on the Demon Zither.
The demonic qi on the zither instantly surged, rippling like water, but did not attack the shadow.
Instead, the demonic qi climbed up the shadow’s arm, gradually merging with it.
At the same time, the shadow was “plundering” the zither’s Artifact Spirit.
Unlike previous times, this “plundering” took a long time.
Standing at the entrance of the Qin Room, Wang Sandong felt a sense of “refreshing clarity.”
This meant her Primordial Spirit had grown stronger after fusing with the Artifact Spirit’s power.
The strength of the Artifact Spirit exceeded Wang Sandong’s expectations.
In many previous uses of Soul Snatching, her Primordial Spirit had also grown stronger, but never with such a noticeable effect.
When the Primordial Spirit reached a certain level of strength, perception also underwent a qualitative change.
Perception, unlike the five senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch—was a kind of spiritual “touch.”
The most common form of perception was that unreasonable intuition in the face of danger.
This was a power that only experts of the Sixth Rank and above possessed.
Wang Sandong had no time to be delighted, because next she had to face the overwhelming flood of memories belonging to the Demon Zither’s Artifact Spirit.
“Hmm!”
Her face pale from the impact of the memories, Wang Sandong grunted and actually stepped back half a step, wobbling, nearly collapsing to the ground.
She quickly grabbed the doorframe, gritting her teeth and persevering.
Unconsciously, tears poured down like rain.
The endless loneliness and desolation made Wang Sandong feel unbearable pain.
Wang Sandong thought she had grown accustomed to the impact of memories.
In the end, she had overestimated herself.
About half a quarter of an hour later, the shadow finally left the Demon Zither and returned to Wang Sandong’s body.
Wang Sandong finally couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed to the ground.
Fortunately, Wang Tong was there.
“Young Master!”
Wang Tong rushed over.
“It’s nothing. Close the door and carry me out to bask in the sun.”
Wang Sandong was severely drained and could barely speak.
Because of the heavy consumption, her already cold body felt even colder, and she longed for the sun.
Wang Tong acknowledged and quickly closed the door of the Qin Room, then scooped Wang Sandong up in his arms and trotted toward the soft chair placed in the courtyard under the sun.
Feeling Wang Tong’s strong arms, Wang Sandong forced a smile, looked up at his worried face, and said with a laugh:
“I just noticed you’ve grown a lot since last year.”
A twelve-year-old boy, well-fed and well-clothed, was exactly at the age for growing.
Three years ago, he had been short and skinny, but now he was already a little taller than Wang Sandong.
“Maybe because I’ve been eating more lately.”
Wang Tong replied.
“Why eat so much?”
Wang Sandong asked with a smile.
Wang Tong carefully placed Wang Sandong on the soft chair and answered without thinking:
“Doesn’t Young Master prefer sturdy men?”
As soon as he said it, he met Wang Sandong’s gaze and suddenly realized he had said something wrong. He quickly explained in a panic:
“No, no… that’s not it… it’s just… this servant wouldn’t dare to have such wild thoughts. Young Master mustn’t misunderstand! It’s just… well…”
Wang Tong’s face turned bright red, and his voice grew softer and softer.
“Just didn’t want Young Master to dislike me…”
Wang Sandong was both amused and exasperated. She didn’t mind a child’s little thoughts and teased:
“Then don’t eat too much. I don’t like fat people.”
“Mm-hmm, this servant understands.”
Wang Tong nodded repeatedly.
Wang Sandong lay languidly on the soft chair, closed her eyes to rest for a while, then said:
“Go to Fengyue Tower and see if Miss Yuan Yuan is there. If she is, tell her Young Master wants to hear some music. If she’s not… just come straight back.”
Wang Tong acknowledged and hurried out.
He soon arrived at Fengyue Tower, found Yueniang, and relayed Wang Sandong’s message.
Yueniang frowned and said:
“Miss Yuan Yuan isn’t here.”
Worried that Wang Sandong might be in trouble, she added:
“How about letting Miss Xing Luo go? Miss Xing Luo’s playing isn’t as good as Miss Yuan Yuan’s, but it’s still excellent.”
“No need.”
Wang Tong replied, cupping his hands in farewell.
As he turned to leave, he happened to exit Fengyue Tower with two men.
Both wore expressions of satisfaction after a pleasant outing, chatting about vulgar topics from the pleasure quarters.
One man said:
“Don’t listen to that braggart. In my opinion, he’s probably—very short.”
“How can you be so sure, brother?”
“As the saying goes, a thin man has a big bird; a lean horse has long hair.”
The man leered.
“That fellow is as fat as a pig. The size… you can imagine…”
The other man burst into raucous laughter.
Walking beside them, Wang Tong overheard their idle chat and suddenly recalled Young Master’s words before leaving: “I don’t like fat people.”
Thinking further, his face suddenly flushed red, then he felt annoyed and secretly reproached himself.
As a lowly servant, how could he harbor such improper thoughts?
Young Master was such a noble person.
Even just thinking about her in such a way was a sin.
Wang Tong, Wang Tong!
Young Master is your life savior!
And you dared to harbor such fantasies about your benefactor!
You truly deserve to die ten thousand deaths!