Yu Wuhen headed in one direction in a daze. Images of the past came rushing into his mind.

There was joy, happiness, pain, sadness, anger, helplessness, failure, and also success…

Yu Wuhen’s hands clenched tighter and tighter until his knuckles turned white and his green veins protruded. There was a hint of water on the rim of his long, slender eyes which revealed the pain in his heart.

God! What have I done wrong? Why must you torture me like this? Why?

Yu Wuhen walked forward and stepped into the ancestral halls which carried the ancestral memorial tablets.

The ancestral hall glistened in gold and the fireflies shone brightly. It was serene, and yet there was a trace of coldness.

Yu Wuhen slowly trudged up to the ancestral memorial plates. He took three sticks of incense from the drawer beneath the offerings table.

Then, he lifted his long gown up, then kneeled down onto a floor pillow and gave three soft bows.

He then straightened himself up, and poked the incense into the ash tray.

Yu Wuhen looked at the engraved names on rows upon rows of memorial tablets, then reached his hand out and removed his mask. His eyes fell on the three memorial tablets in front of him.

Yu Wuhen was dead silent and had a grave look on his face. Despite being incredibly sad, he couldn’t cry.

He stared at the memorial tablets for a long time before he eventually took a deep breath and mumbled, “Father, Mother, Brother, Wuhen’s back to visit you all.”

Just then, the housekeeper charged in. The man was around fifty years old and had seriously big eye bags. “Master, Li Biaotou wishes to see you.”

Yu Wuhen looked suddenly tense. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, then he got to his feet and slowly wore his mask to hide his cool complexion.

Then, he turned around and walked out. The instant the door opened, a white light fell on the table full of memorial tablets and shone the three words—Yu Wuhen.

After Yu Wuhen stepped outside, he led the housekeeper straight to the front of the courtyard.

They walked into a luxurious guest room, where they saw a man kneeling on the floor. The man wore an all-black outfit with a red belt, and his head was bowed so low that one couldn’t see his face clearly.

Yu Wuhen seemed unaffected by what he saw, and walked to the very front. He swept his clothes back and took a seat.

“M… Master, the goods tha… that you ordered me to deliver from Heishan City’s Zhao family… was swept… swept away by the flood. I beg you, master… please spare my life… I’m willing to… to compensate by being your slave for life,” pleaded the middle-aged man knelt on the ground, as he never stopped kowtowing and trembling fearfully.

Yu Wuhen squinted his sharp, knife-like eyes. A deep voice gradually echoed. “Tell me, how many men and goods did I lose this time?”

Li Biaotou’s ordinary-looking face turned terrifyingly pale, then raised his tall nose and glanced at ‘Yu Wuxia’. He felt his entire body become more flustered, then lowered his head and spoke with a trembling voice. “Repor… reporting master, almo… almost half of the goods were lost. As for… As for the men… seventeen men were swept by the flood and… their survival and whereabouts are currently unknown.”

Yu Wuhen’s thin lips pursed tightly, then tightly clenched his slender and strong hands that resembled bamboo joints. After some time, he said coldly, “Li Biaotou, is there anything you would like to say before you die?”

Li Biaotou was frightened out of his mind. “Ma… master Yu, I really don’t know how it happened. When… When I arrived at the river, it was tranquil. But… but when we reached the middle… we were swept by a flood that came in from the upstream. At the blink of an eye, the boat… was swept to pieces. Ma… Master, I have the old and young to take care of in my family. I really can’t die. I beg… beg you. Please spare my life. I beg you. Please!” he pleaded hurriedly.

Li Biaotou thumped his head loudly on the ground like his life depended on it.

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