The Rise of a Family: Starting from Daily Intelligence - Chapter 383 (Patreon)

Chapter 383: Candidates, Calamity Star, Defying Heaven to Change Fate

Fu Yongshang stood in the center of the Chamber of Commerce’s council hall, his gaze like a torch sweeping over every person present.

His brows were knit tight, and a hard-to-voice disappointment welled up in his heart.

These people were the standouts of the Fu clan’s Commerce Hall’s younger generation; otherwise, they wouldn’t have been sent to Jingzhou.

Yet at this moment, one after another of them looked so timid, so devoid of any drive.

Wuzhou was a burgeoning land. The clan’s future fief would most likely take root there.

Whoever went now would be a founding merit-holder of the new prefecture; their future standing in the clan would inevitably rise with the tide. And yet these youths were all shrinking back, as if terrified to leave the comfort zone that was Jingzhou.

“The clan’s younger generation has clearly lived in ease for too long,” Fu Yongshang sighed inwardly.

If this went on, the clan’s growth would be severely hindered.

Though the Fu clan had risen to a seventh-rank house, if they lost their enterprising spirit, sooner or later they would be surpassed and replaced by other families. Fu Yongshang already had a plan: at the annual gathering, he would definitely raise this problem and properly rectify the clan’s ethos.

Seeing the crowd still silent, Fu Yongshang said coldly:

“I’ll give you the time it takes half a stick of incense. You may also go and discuss it with your families.”

With that, he formed a hand seal, and the array-light curtain at the center of the council hall slowly withdrew.

Everyone bowed in unison and then filed out.

Most returned straight to their respective posts, continuing with their work. Their purpose in entering the Chamber was nothing more than to someday become a shop’s manager. In Jingzhou, being a shop manager was a position countless people dreamed of; naturally, they were unwilling to give it up lightly.

There were, however, a few who chose to leave. Their steps were hurried as they rushed home—obviously to discuss with their families whether to go to Wuzhou. Of course, among them were also those taking the chance to slip away for a short break.

Fugui was one of them.

He did not go straight home, but first went to the pharmacy to pick up a fresh packet of medicine. The bundle was heavy, filled with precious herbs. Not daring to delay, Fugui hurried back to West Street. The lanes of West Street were narrow and run-down, the spiritual energy thin; the cultivators passing by all wore tight frowns—clearly, most who lived here were grassroots cultivators worried about making ends meet.

At the deep end of the alley, Fugui lifted the medicine bundle and walked into a small courtyard with practiced ease.

Calling it a courtyard was generous; it had already been split in two, sublet by two families. Fugui entered only a single main room, from which came bouts of coughing.

Hearing movement, a woman’s weak voice sounded from inside. “Husband, why are you off work early?”

Fugui quickened his pace into the room, set the medicine bundle on the table, and said gently, “Elder Shang specially gave us half a stick of incense off. Chun Niang, I’ll get the medicine boiling in a bit. By the time I’m off work later, it should be ready for you.”

Chun Niang lay on the bed, face pale—clearly quite ill. She forced a small smile and said softly, “You’ve worked hard, husband.”

“You’re not allowed to say that kind of foolish thing. If not for you back then, I would’ve died under the claws of that Skywolf. Being able to marry you and enter the Fu family as a son-in-law is the greatest blessing of my life.”

Fugui spoke from the bottom of his heart.

When he met Chun Niang, he had only been mid-stage Qi Refining; she had been at Foundation Establishment.

She hadn’t despised his poverty, supported him all the way, and even to fight for a Foundation Establishment Pill for him, she got badly injured on a mission and had been bedridden ever since.

His life had been given by her.

His current cultivation, and even having a position at the Jingzhou shop, were roads she had paved.

So caring for her, he had no complaints and no regrets.

Fugui turned and took out the medicine furnace.

Skilled and sure, he tossed a Firefly Stone into the furnace. With a soft whoosh, a small, steady flame rose. He opened the medicine bundle, placed the herbs into the furnace one by one, then patted his storage pouch. A flash of rosy light, and a bottle filled with Skywolf Water appeared in his hand. He carefully poured the Skywolf Water into the furnace. The gurgling sound echoed through the room.

While decocting the medicine, Fugui soothed Chun Niang in a low voice: “Don’t worry. Elder Shang recommended this specifically; they say it works wonders for your illness. Once you recover, our days will get better too.”

Chun Niang nodded slightly, guilt flickering in her eyes.

To treat her illness, her husband had sunk all their savings into it, yet her sickness was like a bottomless pit—no matter how it was treated, it wouldn’t heal. Without medicine, it couldn’t be controlled. Otherwise, with her husband at Foundation Establishment, how would their days be this straitened?

The medicine in the furnace gradually came to a boil, a rich herbal aroma filling the room. Fugui carefully controlled the flame, afraid that too much fire would damage the medicinal properties.

The couple chatted in fits and starts.

Because Chun Niang had been bedridden, she rarely had the chance to go out.

So.

Whenever Fugui returned from the shop, he would recount everything he’d seen and heard to her—both to relieve her boredom and because Chun Niang had a good head on her shoulders; she could analyze the ins and outs of many matters for him.

When she learned the real reason he had come back just now, Chun Niang was so excited she almost sat up from the bed, but a violent coughing fit forced her to lie back. Her face flushed from agitation, and an unprecedented light shone in her eyes. Gripping Fugui’s hand tightly, her voice was weak but rock-steady:

“Husband, is what you said true? Wuzhou… that’s the clan’s future fief!”

Seeing her so excited, Fugui hurried to calm her. “Don’t get worked up—slow down. Wuzhou will indeed be the clan’s future fief, but it’s still a wasteland right now. Going there will mean hardship and toil.”

Chun Niang shook her head, a decisive glint flashing in her eyes. “Husband, you don’t understand. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance! The clan’s future foundation is in Wuzhou. Whoever goes now will be a founding merit-holder when the prefecture is established; their standing in the clan will soar. If you go, you can render great service for the clan and carve out a path for our future.”

By the end of her words,

Chun Niang began coughing again.

Fugui’s heart ached.

He regretted having let it slip.

“Niangzi, you’re this sick. Even if Wuzhou held boundless fortune, I couldn’t leave you…”

Chun Niang cut him off, her tone firm. “Husband, this is a rare chance for you. If you give it up because of me, I might as well die. Go back and report to Elder Shang right now: you’re willing to follow Grandpa Changlei and the others to Wuzhou. Go.”

Fugui had always taken Chun Niang’s words as law.

Hearing this,

a trace of hesitation flickered in his eyes.

Seeing that, Chun Niang gently squeezed his hand and comforted him: “Don’t worry about me. After you head to Wuzhou, when Elder Shang returns to Jingzhou, I’ll go back to the clan with him. The clan will have people to care for me. Your stipend in Wuzhou will surely be higher than in Jingzhou; if you render great service, you might even secure a Saintly Healing Elixir for me.”

At the mention of curing Chun Niang,

Fugui’s heart was moved at once. He gritted his teeth and said, “All right.”

“Niangzi, I’ll listen to you.”

“Once I reach Wuzhou, even if it costs my life, I’ll get a saintly medicine for you and cure your illness.”

Leaving the Poorfolk Alley,

Fugui became all the more urgent.

He slapped an Urgent Travel Talisman onto himself—the one he’d always been reluctant to use—afraid that if he were late, someone else would seize Chun Niang’s hope.

News that the Fu clan was selecting people to go to Wuzhou spread quickly through the shop.

Yet whether they were Fu clan members or the mulberry-garden women cultivators under Liu Meizhen’s charge, few were interested.

After all, in Jingzhou everyone could live steadily without licking blood off the blade’s edge. Even if Wuzhou had been chosen as the clan’s future fief, it was now barren and crisis-ridden. Who would abandon a stable life to go there and suffer?

However.

Next door in the weaving house, when Widow Wang heard the news, her hands paused.

She lowered her head to look at her roughened hands, and complicated feelings rose in her heart. She had forced herself to learn weaving, day and night, for nearly ten years, just to barely get the hang of it. That alone proved she lacked aptitude for it. Yet the mulberry estate revolved around picking mulberry, raising silkworms, spinning thread, and weaving cloth—and weaving was a high-skill craft. Back then, eager to stand out, she’d chosen it without a second thought.

Reality, however, had dealt her a heavy blow.

For low-grade robes, perhaps she could catch up by sheer effort. But to dream of weaving third-tier spirit garments in the future—it was simply impossible.

She didn’t want to spend her life in this weaving room, repeating the same tedious labor day after day, only to live and die in obscurity.

Widow Wang silently set her resolve, found a pretext, left the weaving house, and hurried toward the shop next door.

As soon as she left, the weavers behind her began whispering:

“Hey, what scheme is Widow Wang up to now?”

“Who knows? She’s always so secretive. You can never figure out what she’s doing.”

“I bet she heard about the selection for Wuzhou and wants to chase the excitement.”

“Hmph, she really dares to dream. Dangerous as it is, Wuzhou will still be the master’s fief. Our mulberry garden only clings to the Mistress’s protection. When the Fu clan’s own clansmen can’t get a spot, why would they choose a calamity star like her?”

“Exactly. No need to invite misfortune for nothing.”

“Truly, truly…”

The weavers traded lines and shared knowing smiles, unable to help a burst of unrestrained mirth. But they soon realized something, glanced toward the door by reflex, and, relieved, fell silent in unison, not daring to gossip further about Widow Wang.

Widow Wang had been a mortal by birth, sold by her parents as a child bride to the butcher Wang’s son.

Who would have thought the butcher’s son would die not long after she entered the household. The butcher Wang was the ninth generation of a single line; his wife could have no more children, yet she was a tigress of a woman and refused to let him take a concubine. As Widow Wang grew older, the butcher’s heart strayed, and he forced himself on her—she even conceived unexpectedly.

Originally, the tigress planned to kill Widow Wang and the child in her belly.

But one night, when she got up to relieve herself, she slipped and fell into the cesspit, drowning herself. With the tigress gone, the henpecked butcher no longer cared about gossip and immediately raised Widow Wang as his second wife. Unfortunately, the butcher’s life was short as well; two days into the new marriage, he went up the mountain to cut wood and never came back.

Thus, at not quite fourteen, Widow Wang became a widow again.

The villagers branded her a bringer of bad luck. Eyeing the butcher’s remaining property, they framed her for adultery. Right after the burial, they tried to drown her in the pond.

But Widow Wang survived a great calamity—saved by Liu Meizhen.

What’s more surprising, she turned out to possess spiritual roots. After stepping onto the path of cultivation, rumors spread that the Wang family village had fallen to some terrifying plague, leaving not a single survivor.

So, even though the mulberry estate housed many pitiable people with nowhere else to go, in private they felt Widow Wang was not only inauspicious but also ruthless.

Some even claimed the plague that struck Wang Village was orchestrated by Widow Wang herself. And that the butcher Wang’s family had fallen to her hard hand.

Adding to that, after she moved into the mulberry estate, anyone who had offended her sooner or later contracted some strange malady.

In time, no one dared approach her. Everyone avoided her. Though she had been in the mulberry estate for over thirty years, only the steward-mistress Liu Meizhen was willing to deal with her.

Behind the Fu clan’s shop.

When the time of half a stick of incense elapsed,

Fu Yongshang still stood there alone, his face a little ashen.

Throughout the entire shop,

not a single person was willing to go to Wuzhou.

And this was after his efforts to rally them.

Just then,

Wang Fugui happened to return from Poorfolk Alley, panting and just on time. Seeing Fu Yongshang frowning in the courtyard with no one else in sight, he quietly let out a breath—there was still a chance. He composed himself, took a deep breath, strode forward and saluted respectfully, then said with firm resolve:

“Elder Shang, I am willing to follow Supreme Elder Yongyi and the others to Wuzhou.”

Hearing this, Fu Yongshang’s grim expression eased with joy.

This Fugui was a son-in-law, yes, but he was the most hardworking of the lot. He had been planning to groom him as the shop’s assistant manager.

Who would have thought—

among all his Fu clansmen, no one willing to endure hardship

could compare to an out-clan man with blood and backbone.

Fu Yongshang asked in a deep voice, “Do you understand that Wuzhou lies in the Extreme West, where sects abound? Hardship there will be unavoidable, and danger to life is likely. Have you truly thought it through?”

Wang Fugui nodded without hesitation. “Elder, I have. Wuzhou is the clan’s future fief. I’m willing to contribute to the clan’s future. And I believe that in Wuzhou I can render great service for the clan—and win a saintly medicine to cure my wife.”

At that, a glimmer of approval flashed in Fu Yongshang’s eyes. He nodded, a hint of relief in his tone. “Good. Fugui, I’m gratified that you have such resolve. The clan needs young people willing to shoulder responsibility. Have you discussed this with Chun Niang?”

“Reporting to Elder, going to Wuzhou was Chun Niang’s idea.”

Fu Yongshang’s eyes lit up.

Whatever else,

the younger generation still had someone with vision.

A pity Chun Niang was dragged down by illness. He nodded. “Very well. In a while, you’ll accompany me to the Teleportation Hall. As for Chun Niang, rest easy—our clan will help look after her.”

“Many thanks, Elder!”

This was exactly what Wang Fugui had been waiting to hear.

He immediately bowed to the ground.

Seeing that the time was up, Fu Yongshang left the back courtyard. His gaze swept across everyone, but each either pretended to be busy or deliberately avoided his eyes. He snorted coldly at once:

“Fugui, let’s go.”

“They’ll have plenty of time to regret it later.”

The two had just stepped out the door

when they ran into Widow Wang hurrying over.

She saluted respectfully and said with firm resolve, “Elder, I heard the clan is selecting people to go to Wuzhou. I wish to volunteer.”

Fu Yongshang frowned slightly, his eyes lingering on Widow Wang for a moment. He was a bit surprised; she was only late-stage Qi Refining, and usually kept a low profile in the mulberry estate. He hadn’t expected her to volunteer. He feared that if she came along, not only would she be of little help, she might become a burden.

Thus,

after weighing it, he declined tactfully: “Strictly speaking, your mulberry estate answers to the Mistress. You haven’t been entered into the Fu clan genealogy. In this matter, I can’t decide.”

Widow Wang acted as if she hadn’t heard the refusal. She lifted her head, eyes steady, voice tinged with earnestness. “Elder, though my cultivation is shallow, I still have the heart to contribute to the clan. Wuzhou is the clan’s future foundation. If I can go, I am willing to—”

The latter half of her sentence came by voice transmission.

Fu Yongshang started, a trace of astonishment on his face.

Never would he have thought

Widow Wang had hidden depths.

There was still one spot for Wuzhou. If Widow Wang truly had that ability, she might be of real help. But since she was under the Mistress’s banner, he didn’t dare decide on his own. After a moment’s thought, he decided to solicit the opinions of Uncle Changlei, Yao Yao, and Fu Yongyi. After all, for this journey to Wuzhou, those three were the main force:

“Come with me.”

“But whether you go to Wuzhou will be decided by Uncle Changlei and the others.”

“Thank you, Elder!”

Relief and excitement broke across Widow Wang’s anxious face. She fell in behind Wang Fugui of her own accord.

The three reached the Teleportation Hall. There, Yao Yao and the other two had been waiting at the door. When they saw Fu Yongshang bringing along a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator, surprise showed on all three faces.

Fu Yongshang formed a Soundproofing Spell,

then swiftly sent a voice transmission.

Fu Changlei, upon hearing it, grew even more cautious. “If that’s so, I fear the Mistress kept Widow Wang for other uses. If she follows us to Wuzhou and something happens, when the Mistress returns, we’ll have no way to answer for it.”

Yao Yao only smiled.

“It’s fine.”

“If Mother lays blame, I’ll take it alone!”

“For this trip to Wuzhou, we urgently need someone like Fairy Wang.”

Saying that,

Yao Yao made the decision herself, dispelled the soundproofing, and said to Widow Wang:

“Come with me.”

Fu Changlei, seeing this, still didn’t entirely agree, but thinking of the two peak third-rank battle-strength spirit beasts at his side, he held his tongue.

“Widow Wang actually got chosen?” one of the weavers cried, eyes wide and voice sharp. “On what grounds? She’s only late-stage Qi Refining—we’ve never seen her display any special ability!”

Another weaver sneered, full of scorn. “Who knows what she pulled? Maybe she used the back door, or put Elder Shang under some spell. She’s always secretive—who knows what shameful things she’s done behind the scenes?”

“Exactly!” a third weaver chimed in. “She’s a walking calamity. She wiped out Wang Village and still gets picked for Wuzhou? Heaven must be blind!”

Their lips said nasty things, but their hearts seethed with unwillingness and jealousy. They knew Widow Wang had gained a chance they would never reach, while they could only remain in the weaving room, repeating the same tedious work day after day.

“Truly unfair!” one weaver fumed. “We work ourselves to the bone, and we don’t even get a chance. She strolls in and gets chosen—infuriating!”

Another only sighed, voice full of resignation. “Forget it. Don’t say more. This is our lot. We can only accept it.”

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