Chapter 110: The Zhang Family

Beneath the table, no one responded; all eyes fixed on Chen Jin with a strange curiosity. Some wanted to tease him, but the intense gaze from Chen Jin’s bright, piercing eyes made them hesitate to speak, and the room fell into an awkward silence.

“Since this place is so clear and peaceful, I shall take my leave. Take care of yourselves,” Chen Jin said lightly, then leapt gracefully, soaring through the tavern window and landing softly outside before drifting away.

Those remaining inside the tavern exchanged bewildered glances, sensing something eerie about the strange occurrence.

“Could this young man from the Zhang family truly be a reincarnated immortal?” someone whispered.

“Sounds like he’s been listening to too many tales and lost his mind. Best to keep away from him—reckless, foolish, and crazy. If he gets beaten, there’s nowhere for him to complain,” another remarked.

“...”

In the end, no matter where one walks in this world, one is bound to be judged. Since one must be judged anyway, it might as well be done with grace and nonchalance.

After arriving in this world, Chen Jin had few attachments. After all, he was not truly of this world, so he could afford to be carefree.

With that, he left the tavern with an air of ease and headed toward the Zhang family estate.

In truth, he had wandered around the town a bit. He soon realized he had nowhere truly familiar to go, as he was still unfamiliar with this life. The body he now inhabited had always been somewhat simple-minded and ignorant of its surroundings.

Although Chen Jin had restored his own cultivation and could thus access much information and resources in this era, why take unnecessary detours when the Zhang family provided a solid foundation?

He arrived at the Zhang estate with little effort.

The estate was quite impressive. The freshly painted gateposts and door exuded a scholarly air rather than the ostentatious aura of a landowner’s mansion. Instead of stone lions, the gateposts bore inscribed couplets, suggesting a family steeped in literary tradition. The Zhang family had prospered in Liyuan Town for over a century, spanning three generations. This long history had tempered the family’s nouveau riche tendencies, lending them a dignified, settled presence—the gift of time.

Just as Chen Jin stood at the gate, a footman clad in uniform hurried out.

“Young master! At last you have returned! The matriarch is beside herself with worry. Please hurry and see her—don’t let her fall ill from anxiety!” The footman grabbed Chen Jin’s sleeve, attempting to pull him inside.

That a mere servant could tug the master about like a dog suggested how little respect the Zhang family accorded this body, given its previous dull-witted occupant.

Chen Jin flicked his sleeve and shook off the footman’s hand.

“You just lead the way,” he said calmly.

“...Ah? Oh,” the footman glanced at Chen Jin with mild surprise, feeling his scalp tingle under Chen Jin’s indifferent gaze, then nodded and led the way.

Though now in another body, Chen Jin’s inherent haughtiness and commanding presence remained untouched.

Following the footman, Chen Jin entered the sprawling estate.

The Zhang estate was large, befitting a major landowner in Liyuan Town. With three generations of accumulation, the courtyard was expansive—at least five halls deep—covering at least a hundred acres.

Crossing three main halls and courtyards, Chen Jin finally arrived at the most honored residence within the estate, where the elderly matriarch lived—Zhang Junbao’s grandmother.

Her residence was large and old but well-maintained, having undergone several renovations. The aged ambiance lent it a solemn air, while the added luxurious porcelain and tasteful potted plants, though somewhat mismatched, enhanced its dignity.

Chen Jin paused before the house, sensing something strange—though what exactly was unclear, perhaps the oddly placed porcelain and plants.

Naturally, where there was strangeness, vigilance was required.

Inside, he first passed through the main hall, then entered the room of the Zhang family matriarch. The room was simple, starkly contrasting the opulence outside.

Within were not only the old lady but also Zhang Junbao’s parents, elder siblings, two uncles, three paternal cousins, two younger cousins, and three strangers unknown even to Zhang Junbao. The room was crowded.

Chen Jin’s gaze swept over them all, noting a mixture of expressions—some weeping, some feigning tears, others lamenting. So many people, so many emotions.

“Junbao is here?” the old lady suddenly called out, her voice frail, as if sensing Chen Jin’s arrival. She sounded weak, as if her time was near.

Chen Jin knew little of this, as the previous Zhang Junbao had been so dull-witted he barely registered external emotions, let alone remembered anyone’s condition.

“He’s here, he’s here, Junbao has come,” those gathered quickly responded.

“Junbao, come here, let grandma see you one last time...” the old lady called anxiously.

She was indeed advanced in years—seventy-eight, nearing the twilight of life. Her skin was wrinkled like a crane’s feathers, her form emaciated and frail. Her eyes were dim, as if veiled by a thin mist, her vision nearly gone.

Chen Jin felt the aura of death emanating from her.

The old lady truly loved Zhang Junbao, perhaps because his dullness stirred her pity. She had always taken the blame for his misdeeds.

Chen Jin pondered silently, feeling a dullness in his own mind now inhabiting this body, as if it lacked lubrication.

Though briefly confused, when beckoned, Chen Jin stepped forward.

After all, having taken over another’s body, it was only right to fulfill filial duties.

He called out loudly, “Grandma...”

The term “grandma” came easily to Chen Jin’s lips, though titles like “father” or “mother” felt unnatural to him when applied to anyone but his biological parents—perhaps because even strangers on the street were often addressed as “grandma” affectionately. He harbored a subtle resistance to such terms.

“Junbao? Is that you?” the old lady sounded astonished, almost disbelieving.

After all, the tone of a normal person and that of a simpleton were quite distinct.

“Yes, it’s him, it’s really him,” those around her quickly chimed in to affirm.

“...” Chen Jin felt as if he were about to relive a childhood tale of transformation and redemption.

...