Crowned by the Treacherous Big Shot
Chapter 428 - 386: Grandparent and Grandchild Reunion

Chapter 428: Chapter 386: Grandparent and Grandchild Reunion

The Miao King rushed toward the place he’d yearned for day and night over the years, flinging the slightly ajar courtyard gate open with a sweep of his large hand.

The next moment, a swift whip-like kick came flying out, ruthlessly sending the uninvited guest—the mighty Miao King—soaring through the air.

With a yowl, the Miao King found himself dangling upside down from a large tree at the village entrance.

Meng Qianqian and Lu Yuan’s group had just stepped off their carriage when they saw the spectacle of the Miao King being barred from entry. Instinctively, they all broke out in a cold sweat.

Tan’er propped her chin in her hands, exclaiming, "Grandmother is so awesome!"

Meng Qianqian tugged nervously at Lu Yuan. "Is Grandmother always this fierce?"

If she finds out I’ve completely devoured her most beloved grandson, would I be the next one hanging from that tree as a punching bag?

Bai Yuwei covered her mouth in shock, staring in disbelief. "No way... Grandfather... actually got kicked?"

The Miao King’s martial arts were unparalleled; he was the number one master in Miaojiang. Ever since Bai Yuwei could remember, no one had ever bested her grandfather.

Forget about being kicked; even touching the hem of his clothes would be enough to keep someone bragging for three days and nights.

Tan’er crossed her arms, teasing, "Xiao Bai, your N-grandfather just got beaten. Why don’t you go help him?"

Bai Yuwei hesitated, then turned her face away, muttering, "Even if I wanted to help, I’d have to consider if I’m capable enough."

Not to mention, the one who kicked her grandfather wasn’t just anyone; it was the sacred and inviolable Goddess of Miaojiang.

Ji Li waved his folding fan lazily, asking, "Big Snake, what’s your take on this?"

Chen Long shot him a sidelong glance. "Call me Big Snake one more time, and you’ll be the next one hanging up there."

Ji Li snapped his fan shut with a "pop." "Are you suggesting this Commander Guard is scared of you? Come on! Let’s go a few rounds!"

Chen Long averted his gaze disdainfully. "Immature."

The Miao King might’ve taken a hit, but in Chen Long’s view, it wasn’t a matter of inadequate martial skill. The Miao King hadn’t intended to fight back at all.

It was as if he’d anticipated being struck and chose neither to dodge nor retaliate.

Among the group, only Yu Zichuan leapt down from the roof of the carriage and confidently walked to the tree where the Miao King was hanging, tilting his head up to look at him.

The Miao King: "At least you’ve got some sense of loyalty, kid. But no need for your help."

Yu Zichuan: "Oh, I wasn’t planning to help."

The Miao King, still hanging upside down, squinted at Yu Zichuan. "Then what are you even here for?"

Yu Zichuan, being an honest kind of person, replied, "To watch you make a fool of yourself."

The Miao King: "..."

As the two exchanged words, a tall, robust figure strode out of the courtyard with aggressive strides, glaring at the Miao King with extreme vigilance. "Who are you, and why are you trespassing on my property?"

The man appeared younger than the Miao King’s adopted son, just in his thirties—prime of his life—with well-defined features, a proud and upright posture, and a charming, spirited presence.

But his face was unfamiliar, and the Miao King didn’t recall ever having met him before.

The Miao King agilely leapt down from the tree.

He’d been hanging there to humor Xian’er, not because he couldn’t get down.

The Miao King wiped the grin off his face, replacing it with the commanding dignity of a ruler. "Are you the new guard here?"

The man frowned. "This is my home, and I am its head."

"What the hell?!

The Miao King, without hesitation, threw a punch at him.

Tan’er, Bai Yuwei, and Shang Changle, who was peeking out from behind the curtains for a better view, all gasped simultaneously.

"Sis, what’s so interesting abo—umph."

Shang Wuyou happily continued to watch.

The Miao King’s punch, with force powerful enough to split mountains and calm seas, was confidently blocked by the man’s steady hand technique.

Ji Li gave a low whistle. "Interesting."

"Brute force without skill—a fool’s courage."

The man said icily, gripping the Miao King’s fist and giving it a sharp tug forward.

It seemed like a gentle movement, but it caused the Miao King to stumble, nearly eating dirt.

Lu Yuan observed, "Using softness to overcome hardness."

Meng Qianqian commented, "That technique looks like it’s specifically designed to counter Grandfather’s punches."

Lu Yuan nodded.

Overhearing their conversation, Bai Yuwei nervously asked, "Does that mean my grandfather is going to lose?"

Tan’er’s eyes sparkled in excitement. "Fight! Fight!"

Bai Yuwei’s face darkened.

Meng Qianqian turned her gaze to Liu Qingyun’s carriage.

The carriage remained silent and still.

If Mother wasn’t worried, this person probably wasn’t a true threat to Grandfather.

The Miao King cracked his knuckles, exuding an air of arrogance. "Kid, do you think a little parlor trick makes you something special?"

A mere male concubine, daring to act unruly before the legitimate husband? If I don’t make him cry for his mama today, I’m not the Miao King!

Wait, when did Xian’er find such a young male concubine?

My heart hurts!

Awoooo!

The Miao King got serious.

He still used his signature punches, but the man’s palm techniques were no longer able to restrain him.

Sheer force overwhelmed finesse—against absolute power, using softness to overcome hardness was a joke.

The man took a hard punch and staggered back several steps, eventually falling heavily to the ground.

"Father—!"

A young man burst through the door, rushing to support the man who’d been injured by the Miao King.

The Miao King froze in shock, nearly losing control of his internal energy.

What the hell?!

Did Xian’er and her male concubine even have a son?!

My heart hurts!

It’s killing me!!!

I should hang myself from a tree!!!

"How dare you hurt my father! I’ll fight you to the death—"

"Shier, stop—"

The man tried to halt him but was too late.

The boy drew a scimitar from his waist and slashed fiercely toward the Miao King’s hands.

The Miao King instantly recognized the scimitar—it was the wedding gift he’d once given Xian’er.

So, he truly was Xian’er’s son...

Boohoohoo...

The Miao King sobbed like a river overflowing its banks. While crying, he countered with a hefty slap, sending the boy flying.

"Waaaah."

The Miao King was utterly heartbroken.

The man, seeing his son injured, could no longer bear it. Rising furiously, he prepared to engage the Miao King in a fight to the death.

Just then, a dignified female voice rang out from the other end of the village.

"Stop!"

The man froze mid-motion, his raised palm halting in the air.

He turned his head, equal parts startled and aggrieved. "Wife!"

"W-Wife... Is Xian’er here?"

The Miao King quickly turned his back, frantically straightening his appearance to ensure that he looked as dashing and awe-inspiring as ever before turning around with open arms, gazing longingly at her figure:

"Xian’er—What the hell?!"

The Miao King’s attempt at a dramatic embrace came to an abrupt halt as he jumped back a full ten feet, visibly startled.

"Who are you?"

He asked.

The woman ignored the Miao King and instead turned to her husband and son. "Are you two all right?"

The boy, now perched on the roof, responded with his swollen face, "Mom... I’m... fine..."

The man gripped her hand and glared icily at the Miao King, saying, "Wife, I don’t know where this lunatic came from, but he broke into our home and attacked me and Shier."

The woman turned to the Miao King and slightly bowed. "Greetings, Miao King."

The man froze.

The Miao King scratched his head. "You know me?"

The woman replied, "Uncle, you may have forgotten, but Feng’er remembers."

The Miao King stared at her in shock. "You’re Feng’er? Little Feng’er? You’ve grown so much?"

The woman sighed. "Uncle, I’m only a few years younger than Sister Zheng’er."

Years ago, Liu Qingyun had briefly stayed in the Miao King’s territory and sneakily taken her toddler cousin with her. That time was the Miao King’s first and only meeting with Little Feng’er.

Little did he expect that in the blink of an eye, Feng’er had already married and had children.

The man shifted his demeanor from hostility to courtesy, bowing to the Miao King. "So, you’re Uncle. I apologize for any offense earlier and ask for your forgiveness."

The Miao King’s mood brightened almost instantly. He patted the man on the shoulder. "Ah, no harm done, no harm done! Uncle might’ve gone a bit heavy-handed earlier—how about I drink three cups as punishment later and teach you a set of martial arts? Don’t take it to heart! And is that my nephew over there?"

The boy waved sheepishly, his swollen face resembling a pig’s head. "Granduncle."

The Miao King smiled awkwardly.

Turning to Lu Yuan, he barked, "Brat, get over here and meet your cousin!"

Lu Yuan led Meng Qianqian forward, bowing before Liu Feng’er as juniors should.

"Ayuan greets Cousin Feng’er."

Liu Feng’er’s serene gaze rested on Lu Yuan as she scrutinized him intently. "It’s good that you’ve returned."

Then she turned her attention to Meng Qianqian.

Lu Yuan introduced her. "This is my wife, Meng Xiaojiu."

Meng Qianqian smiled gracefully. "Xiaojiu greets Cousin Feng’er."

Liu Feng’er nodded. "More beautiful than in the painting."

Her manner was as gentle as a drifting cloud—neither overly warm nor lacking in propriety.

"Cousin!"

Tan’er, ever the extrovert, breezed in to pay her respects to Liu Feng’er.

Bai Yuwei, however, was clearly feeling out of place, as though she were the only outsider in the village’s grand house.

"Younger sister."

Meng Qianqian took her hand and brought her forward to greet Liu Feng’er and Xu Yan.

Meanwhile, Liu Qingyun was sleeping soundly in the carriage, Bao Shu gripped tightly in her arms. The little one struggled in vain.

"Eeeh—let me out—let me off the carriage—"

Worn out, Bao Shu went limp, tongue lolling, attitude defeated!

The Miao King, utterly preoccupied with thoughts of Xian’er, had forgotten all about his daughter and chubby grandson still left in the carriage. "Ahem, Little Feng’er, where’s your aunt?"

Liu Feng’er said, "She’s moved to the rear courtyard. She gave us this house. I’ll take you there."

The Miao King waved her off. "No need, I’ll go myself."

He absolutely had to be the first to see Xian’er!

Liu Feng’er didn’t insist and politely pointed him in the right direction.

Xian’er!

This time I’m really here!

The Miao King utilized his Qinggong to speed toward the rear courtyard.

Meng Qianqian and the others followed unhurriedly behind.

Night had fallen, and the bright moon hung high in the sky.

Under the moonlight, they saw a shadow flying backward through the air.

"Awooo—"

It sounded vaguely like the Miao King.

As they continued walking, Meng Qianqian asked nonchalantly, "What’s the count now?"

Lu Yuan: "Seventh time."

"Xian’er—let me—try again—"

Creaaak—

The door opened for the eighth time.

Inside, moonlight poured in like a clear spring, like silk from a mermaid, pooling on the ground.

The Goddess of Miaojiang sat alone by the window, gently threading silk from mulberry cocoons in her hands.

Time had given her silver hair, but it couldn’t take away her natural grace and divine radiance.

She simply sat there, as resplendent as a deity painted on a wall.

"I told you before—not to enter."

Her voice carried no trace of age, ethereal and melodious, laced with an almost celestial quality.

"Grandmother, it’s me, Ayuan."

Lu Yuan stood frozen, his throat tight as he spoke.

Her hands paused in their weaving.

"I’m back."

Lu Yuan had long forgotten what pain truly felt like and had forgotten how to cry.

But in this moment, an overwhelming sense of grievance bubbled up from deep within, making his eyes redden slightly:

"Grandmother, Ayuan’s hand... hurts so much."