Chapter 4: I Said It's Not Enough! (Please add to favorites and keep reading)

After the Divine Voice uttered that blessing, Lu Shaoheng felt as if something had been added to her body.

At first, it only felt like a pleasant sensation, but now, she felt her entire body burning, and the discomfort gradually intensified.

It was as if this added something had awakened something that had already been within her.

Her body became a battlefield. Lu Shaoheng could feel her blood flow accelerating, dull pains radiating irregularly through her muscles and bones, and even a crackling sound that only she could hear.

Though Lu Shaoheng’s emotions remained steady, a heat she could not ignore rose within her.

She gritted her teeth and sat quietly on the meditation cushion.

Lu Shaoheng’s intuition had always been strangely accurate, just like the first time she saw Jiang Yunjiang’s eyes and felt that this person was no good.

Subconsciously, she felt that the matter of the Divine Voice must not be known to a second person, so she endured it on her own, not seeking help from the sect elders currently on the spirit boat in the clouds.

The shadows shifted, and time flew by.

By the time the restlessness within Lu Shaoheng subsided and the pain ceased, the sun had long since changed its position, and the evening sky was filled with vast, fiery red clouds.

Only when she heard the old man’s voice from high above did she open her eyes.

"Testing complete. Nine individuals possess the aptitude. You have half an hour to bid farewell to your friends and family, then board the spirit boat to return to the sect."

Friends and family? What friends or family did she have left?

"Heng'er!"

A woman’s delicate, soft cry reached her ears, and Lu Shaoheng’s pupils constricted.

She followed the sound and, sure enough, saw a couple standing beside a luxurious carriage.

The Marquis of Pingnan and the Marchioness, her biological parents.

Lu Yuan and Jiang Yun.

Beside them stood the visibly impatient Lu Shaojing, the dark-eyed Lu Shaojia, and Jiang Yunjiang, who wore a faint smile.

"There must be an end to this."

Lu Shaoheng told herself.

No, in truth, she shouldn't have been called Lu Shaoheng for a long time.

That day, in a fit of rage, Lu Yuan had summoned several clan elders, suppressed all opposition, and finally struck her name from the family register.

She should not continue to use the surname Lu.

Shaoheng took a deep breath and walked toward their group.

Before they were even face-to-face, she heard Jiang Yun wail, "Heng'er, can it be that you truly intend to abandon your mother and go off to cultivate?"

Lu Yuan, in his middle age, had heroic features and a tall stature. When his sword-like brows furrowed, he was imposing without anger. He let out a cold snort: "You unfilial wretch!"

Shaoheng raised her head, her gaze meeting his directly.

"Thirty-seven days. I have been driven out of the Marquis's mansion for thirty-seven days."

"When I was driven out, I had nothing but the clothes on my back. Afterward, the mansion pulled strings everywhere; whenever I tried to find any work to support myself, I was obstructed. When I was driven to the point of starvation, I had to fight dogs on the street for food and scavenge leftovers from restaurant kitchens."

"You already struck me from the family register and reclaimed the surname. Do you actually expect me to continue being a filial daughter?"

Jiang Yun trembled at these words, tears welling in her eyes, her body going limp until Lu Yuan supported her.

Lu Yuan, too, looked astonished. He took half a step back, and seeing the obvious guilt on his eldest son’s face from the corner of his eye, how could he not understand?

His arrogance deflated, but he still kept a stern face.

"But my Marquis of Pingnan’s mansion raised you, gave you a life of luxury for over a decade! Just because you suffered for a month, and we wanted to teach you a lesson, you would forget the grace of your upbringing like this!"

As he tried to pin the blame on her, Shaoheng laughed out loud.

The testing was over, but many people were still gathered there. She raised her voice so that everyone could hear.

"Your eldest son, Lu Shaojia, whose literary fame fills Bianjing—which of his brilliant poems and essays at the salons weren't written by me, ghostwritten at your request? And Lu Shaojing, the so-called martial arts genius—his martial prowess was also something I spent countless long nights studying secret manuals for, teaching him hand-in-hand!"

"Since I was seven, I have managed all the internal affairs of the mansion for the Marchioness. Otherwise, with a brain that rattles like water in a jug, the family foundation would have been squandered long ago."

"Since the Marquis speaks to me of the grace of upbringing, isn't that just treating these things as a transaction? Then, doesn't my labor in raising your two sons and managing the household count for anything?"

Even if it didn't count, it didn't matter; Shaoheng knew how to be unreasonable.

She deliberately raised her volume. Hearing this, many people’s eyes darted toward Lu Shaojia and Lu Shaojing.

The gazes—full of doubt and mockery—were like sharp knives, threatening to peel away their masks.

Lu Shaojia, who cared most about his reputation, was so angry his ears turned red. Now that the testing was over and there was nothing left to worry about, he roared, "Nonsense!"

Shaoheng glanced at him, her voice filled with disdain: "Your classmates who discussed poetry and essays with you in the past—I don't believe they didn't notice. If you have the ability, write a poem right now and let us see if you have any true talent."

"If you can't do it, don't you dare say it's because you don't want to."

The words hit the mark; Lu Shaojia’s mind was blank, and he couldn't say a word.

Lu Shaojing clenched his fists, and had Jiang Yunjiang not been pulling on his sleeve, he would have rushed forward to fight.

Jiang Yun wiped her tears with a handkerchief and, with a sobbing voice, changed the subject: "Heng'er, it was you who went too far with Yunjiang that day. Your father and I only wanted you to correct your ways."

"But now that you are going to cultivate, you will never..."

Cultivators had long lifespans, and time spent in cultivation passed in the blink of an eye.

Every twenty years, disciples were chosen by sects, but in reality, very few ever returned home.

Lu Yuan also softened his expression. He sighed, "Shaoheng, it was my oversight that caused you to suffer for over a month. I only wanted to teach you a lesson."

"Think carefully. For the past ten years, which treasures or fine things in the mansion weren't given to you first? Haven't your mother and I always favored you the most? Isn't that enough?"

But without a moment's hesitation, Lu Yuan heard Shaoheng’s resolute reply.

"It is not enough!"

Shaoheng looked at Lu Yuan and Jiang Yun.

"I understand what you mean. You want to say you can't bear to part with me and want me to give up on cultivation. Let me ask you: have you said these words to Lu Shaojia, Lu Shaojing, or even Jiang Yunjiang?"

The group’s expressions turned from shock to evasion.

The answer was obvious.

Shaoheng looked at Jiang Yun, cutting straight to the point: "Marchioness, you have two sons and one daughter. Your two sons are going off to cultivate, and you don't bear to stop them. But there is still a concubine's son in the mansion. You need an ally, so you finally thought of me."

For thirty-seven days, she had once hoped her parents would come find her and speak soft words.

But when it truly happened, when the expectation became reality, Shaoheng felt it was, from the bottom of her heart, ironic and absurd.

The good was not pure, the bad was not thorough; it was the bitter taste of profit wrapped in the honey of affection.

This was the 'insufficient love' Shaoheng received.

Like wax binding her hands and feet, was she meant to be trapped in it, suffering and struggling like a little insect?

But why?

She didn't want it!

Shaoheng’s face returned to calm, but the hysteria hidden beneath was ready to burst forth.

The atmosphere froze, like the heavy, humid air before a summer storm, wrapping around everyone present.

"You ask if it’s not enough? How could it be! Even if my talent surpassed Lu Shaojia and Lu Shaojing’s a hundred times over, you still put them first. You gave them steeds, weapons, skills, and a future."

"Favored me? Treasures and fine things? Yes, you gave me delicacies, fine clothes, jewelry... how wonderful. Such affection—to me, it was shallow, fragile, and could be taken back at any moment."

In those thirty-seven days, she had constantly reviewed the memories of the previous fourteen years, and she finally found her most fundamental desire.

"I love jewelry and fine clothes, but I also want skills and a future. And more than that, I want the power you hold—the power that can easily strip a so-called daughter of the Marquis of everything and drive her out of the mansion!"

"And it’s not as if I never asked you for it; you simply didn't give it to me! How dare you stand here now, thick-skinned, and say it’s not enough? Then let me tell you one last time."

"It is not enough! Listen clearly! I said it is not enough!"

In Shaoheng’s eyes, blood ties were never an excuse to forgive everything; they were fuel poured onto the fire of her rage!

From beginning to end, after being driven out of the mansion, what Shaoheng hated most was not Jiang Yunjiang or the fiancé who held only a name—what were they, anyway?

What Shaoheng hated most were her parents, and her brothers.