Raising Orphans, Not Assassins
Vol. 2 - Ch. 33 - A New Entry! Chen Ye’s Seven Admonitions!

Orphanage.

Chen Ye closed the wooden box and lightly tapped his right foot.

With a sharp thud, the box sprang upright.

The fierce qilin engraving on its surface, four legs stepping on flame, looked vivid and lifelike.

Chen Ye casually leaned the box against the wall.

“System, draw a new entry.”

He silently gave the command in his heart.

[Ding!]

[5,000 points consumed.]

[Current remaining points: 1,723.]

A translucent blue wheel flashed briefly before Chen Ye’s eyes.

[Ding!]

[Congratulations, host has drawn the orphan entry: Valor.]

[Valor: Enhances courage and decisiveness. When fearless, internal force power is increased.]

After skimming the effect, Chen Ye handed it straight to Sun Sheng.

Xiao Lian and Da Ming already had three entries each. Xiaofu didn’t need one for now.

Sun Sheng had been in a bit of a mess lately, so he was the best choice.

Once the entry was assigned, Chen Ye reclined back into the lounge chair, half-shut his eyes, and tapped the armrest with his fingers.

Before long, a flurry of hurried footsteps came from the courtyard.

Da Ming, drenched in sweat and steaming white vapor, burst in.

He stumbled into the main hall of Yuying Hall, panting hard.

“Dad… Dad… I—I’ve… I’ve finished chopping!”

Chen Ye opened his eyes and glanced at Da Ming, his tone calm: “Sit down and catch your breath first. No rush.”

Da Ming nodded sincerely and sat down beside him to rest.

After a moment, his breathing steadied, and his face returned to normal color.

Chen Ye sat up from the lounge chair and looked at him.

“Da Ming, do you still want to find her?”

Seated on the chair, Da Ming nodded forcefully.

His eyes held longing and hope as they met Chen Ye’s.

Chen Ye understood what he meant.

He reached into his robes and pulled out ten silver notes—each worth ten taels.

He casually placed the one hundred taels on the nearby table.

Da Ming stared fixedly at the stack, eyes unblinking.

Chen Ye looked at him and said mildly,

“Since you truly want to find her, to see her one last time…”

“I can’t do much for you. Take this hundred taels as your travel money.”

“But before you go, I want to ask you something—how do you really feel about Xiuxiu?”

“And what about Wan’er?”

He went straight to the heart of the matter.

Da Ming was stunned. His eyes flickered with confusion.

A long silence followed.

He gave no answer. His expression was tangled—uncertain and lost.

As if faced with a question beyond his grasp, one he didn’t know how to answer.

Chen Ye raised his gaze and took in Da Ming’s reaction.

He understood.

Love had stirred in his heart, but only halfway.

Not fully awakened.

Chen Ye sighed quietly and nodded.

“You don’t need to answer now.”

“Think it over during your journey to Jingzhou. When you return, tell me what you’ve decided.”

Da Ming nodded again, still with a trace of confusion in his eyes.

Chen Ye pointed toward the wooden box leaning by the wall.

“That’s your parting gift from me. Take a look.”

Da Ming followed his gaze.

He saw the towering wooden box—taller than a man—and froze.

Especially that imposing qilin engraving; it made his eyes go wide.

He swallowed nervously. A strange tension welled up from inside him.

Da Ming got up, walked over, and carefully opened the box.

A flash of cold light greeted him.

His breath caught instantly.

He stared at the contents of the box, eyes rounded in shock.

Moments passed before he finally remembered to breathe—and then it was rapid.

With trembling hands, he reached for the Qilin Axe inside.

His thick palms gripped the handle; with a stable stance and one smooth pull, he easily lifted the axe.

The moment it touched his hand, he felt something click into place—an uncanny sense of connection, of perfect harmony.

It felt like…

Like this axe was made just for him.

The weight was just right. The blade glinted with a chilling sharpness.

On the polished surface of the axe, his own honest face reflected back at him.

At six feet tall, holding this man-sized giant axe, Da Ming radiated a fierce, indescribable pressure.

He couldn’t help but give it a few experimental swings.

Whoosh whoosh—the wind screamed as the blade tore through the air.

Hearing that sharp slice, a wild urge surged up in his chest.

He wanted to run into the mountains, swing this axe with abandon, and chop down a few big trees to release all this excitement!

Da Ming forced himself to calm down. He returned the axe to the box.

Then he stepped before Chen Ye, dropped to both knees—

Thud…

His forehead struck the floor with a heavy sound.

Chen Ye said nothing, watching quietly.

Thud thud…

Da Ming kowtowed three times.

When he raised his head again, his forehead had split open, blood trickling down.

Eyes red, voice choked: “Dad…”

Chen Ye let out a long sigh, stood up, and gently ruffled Da Ming’s hair.

“You’ve never trained in martial arts. You’re just naturally strong. Against real experts, you’d be at a disadvantage.”

“The road to Jingzhou is long. With this axe, you’ll at least have something to protect yourself.”

“If you run into serious trouble, don’t hesitate—use it to fight.”

Da Ming broke down, tears streaming from his eyes.

He lowered his head and gave Chen Ye three more hard kowtows.

Chen Ye pulled him up and, smiling, wiped away the tears from his cheeks.

“A grown man crying like that? What are you doing, huh?”

"You’ve spent two years chopping wood in the mountains—stillness gives rise to motion. It’s time you took a walk beyond."

"This world… still holds many wonders."

"But before you go, I have a few words of caution."

Da Ming nodded firmly, eyes filled with resolve.

Chen Ye began:

"First, do not stir up trouble or meddle in affairs that don’t concern you."

"Second, do not casually befriend strangers."

"Third, never gamble with people you don’t know."

"Fourth, do not provoke monks, priests, or beggars."

"Fifth, never flaunt your wealth."

"Sixth, do not trust words lightly."

"Seventh—and above all—never get involved with unfamiliar women."

Seven warnings in total, spoken without pause. Clearly, Chen Ye had prepared them well in advance.

Da Ming was stunned after hearing them all, a little bewildered.

Seeing his foolish son’s dazed face, Chen Ye couldn't help but chuckle.

He pulled out a sheet of paper from his robe and handed it to Da Ming.

"I’ve written them down for you."

"You’ve no experience in the ways of the world. On your journey to Jingzhou, you’re bound to encounter people from the martial world."

"Keep these seven rules close to your heart, and you should be safe."

Da Ming took the paper, nodding vigorously. His eyes were red, and tear streaks still marked his cheeks.

Chen Ye patted his shoulder and sighed, "A young eagle must one day fly alone beneath the sky."

"I had only wished for you to live your life chopping wood in the mountains—simple, joyful, and carefree."

"But once you step into the world of Jianghu, I fear you may never return to that life again..."

A trace of sorrow touched Chen Ye’s heart.

"Once you enter Jianghu, your fate is no longer your own."

He had read countless wuxia tales in his past life, and now lived in ancient times himself.

The word Jianghu had taken on a much deeper meaning for him.

That old saying came to mind—

Jianghu is not just bloodshed and duels; it’s the affairs of men, the subtleties of the human heart…

Sometimes, it’s not about whether you want to leave—it’s whether Jianghu will let you.

All tangled in debts and grudges…

Chen Ye gazed at the sky above the courtyard, his eyes distant and deep.

He took a slow breath, then turned to Da Ming and said, "Stay one more night, Da Ming."

"I’ll see you off tomorrow."

Da Ming nodded hard, a silly grin breaking through the tears on his face.

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