Chapter 28: A Son Returns

For a brief moment, the world seemed to narrow into that single courtyard. The worn stone beneath his feet, the faint creak of the wooden door stirred by a passing breeze, the distant noise of the main estate faded into the background as Lu Tian stood still and his gaze was fixed on the two figures before him, as though the years that had passed between them were being compressed into a single breath.

The sight of his parents made something coil tightly in Lu Tian’s chest, a mix of relief, sorrow, and quiet anger that had no outlet yet. His mother’s shoulders were slumped, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted a faded sash across her robes, while his father’s eyes, once proud and commanding, flickered with a mixture of deference and shame. Both had aged prematurely, their vigor dimmed not by time alone, but by the relentless burden of being cast aside by their own clan.

“They… they’re alive,” Lu Tian thought, his gaze sweeping over them. A subtle tightness in his hands betrayed his calm exterior, though the Void within him remained still, as if aware that it was not yet time to awaken in full force.

His parents barely lifted their heads as he approached, their eyes clouded with cautious hope, yet tinged with fear. The moment had long waited for the time their son would visit, yet it was not a reunion that brought warmth. It was a meeting filled with the weight of judgment and the sting of betrayal that had never been theirs to commit.

“Mother, Father,” Lu Tian said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion simmering beneath. “I have returned.”

His mother was the first to move. Her steps were hesitant at first, as though she feared that what she was seeing might dissolve if she moved too quickly, but that hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before it gave way to something stronger, something that could not be restrained, as she closed the distance between them with trembling urgency.

“Tian’er…” her voice broke softly, the name carrying both disbelief and longing.

Her hand reached out, stopping just short of his face for the briefest moment, as though asking for permission, before finally touching him, her fingers trembling slightly as though confirming that he was real.

“You… you came back…” Lu Tian did not move at first.

Not because he was indifferent, but because the familiarity of that voice, the warmth of that touch, stirred something within him that he had long since buried beneath layers of calm detachment and cold resolve.

In his previous life, this moment had never happened. He had chosen pride, chosen distance, chosen to return only when he had something to prove and by then so much had already been lost.

This time he allowed himself to respond. “I did,” he said quietly.

The words were simple, yet they carried a weight that only he truly understood.

His father stepped forward more slowly, his posture still upright despite the wear of time and circumstance, though the lines on his face had deepened far more than they should have in just a few years.

“You shouldn’t have come,” the older man said, though his voice lacked any true reproach, carrying instead a quiet concern that spoke of a different kind of fear.

Lu Tian’s gaze shifted to him. “Why?” he asked.

His father hesitated, his eyes flickering briefly toward the direction of the inner estate, where the main members of the clan resided, before returning to his son.

“Because this place… is no longer the same for you,” he said.

The meaning was clear.

Before Lu Tian could respond, Chen Ran stepped forward slightly, his expression unable to fully hide the anger that had been building since they entered the outer residence.

“…What exactly happened here?” he asked, his voice lower than usual.

There was a brief silence. Then Lu Tian’s mother lowered her gaze slightly, her hands clasping together unconsciously.

“After the news came back…” she began slowly, “…that your meridians were damaged… that your cultivation had collapsed…”

She did not finish the sentence.  The rest was already written in the worn courtyard, the faded walls, the absence of servants, the quiet neglect that spoke louder than any explanation.

“We were moved here,” his father continued, his tone steady, as though he had already accepted it. “Resources were… reallocated. It was decided that supporting a crippled heir no longer held value for the clan.”

A faint stillness settled over the group. Wu Zhen’s jaw tightened visibly, while Xiang Feng’s grip on his spear shifted slightly, though he remained silent.

Zhao Lian’s expression cooled. “Reallocated,” she repeated softly, though the word carried a sharp edge.

Liang Jie, despite his condition, let out a low, humorless laugh. “…Typical,” he muttered.

Lu Tian said nothing but something within him shifted.

Before the moment could settle further, a voice broke through the stillness.

“Well, well… if it isn’t our ‘returned genius.’”

Several figures approached from the path leading back toward the inner estate, their robes marking them as members of the main branch, their expressions varying from curiosity to open disdain.

At the front stood a young man, his posture relaxed, his gaze sharp with amusement as it swept over Lu Tian before lingering briefly on the group behind him.

“I heard the cripple had come back,” he continued, his lips curling slightly. “Didn’t expect you to bring an audience.”

Chen Ran took a step forward immediately, but Han Yue’s hand moved just slightly, stopping him before he could act.

Lu Tian’s gaze shifted calmly to the newcomer. “Who are you?” he asked.

The young man’s smile twitched. “…You don’t recognize me?” he said, his tone sharpening just slightly. “I’m Lu Cheng. Your cousin.”

There was a faint murmur among the others behind him, as though they found the situation mildly entertaining.

“Ah, that’s right,” Lu Cheng added after a moment, his expression turning more openly mocking. “You’ve been gone so long… and with your condition, I suppose memory might not be your strongest point.”

No one laughed. Lu Cheng had always been jealous that Lu Tian could get into the top sect of the four major sects and now Lu Tian’s accident brought him the most joy because he could finally shine in the clan.

His gaze shifted briefly toward Lu Tian’s parents, his expression growing colder.

“You should have stayed where you were,” he said. “At least then the clan wouldn’t have to deal with this embarrassment.”

Lu Tian looked on indifferently because he had seen  this disdain and dismissal before. He was familiar quiet cruelty masked as practicality. He had lived through it in his past life but unlike before he did not feel anger. Not in the way others might expect. What he felt was clarity and that clarity made everything simple.

Behind him, Wu Zhen shifted slightly, his patience clearly wearing thin, while Liang Jie’s eyes had opened fully now, the earlier weakness momentarily forgotten as he watched the exchange with sharp interest.

“…You talk too much,” Liang Jie muttered under his breath.

Lu Tian took a step forward. Yet it drew every eye toward him.

Lu Cheng’s expression shifted slightly, as though he had expected a reaction, but not one so… calm. “What?” he said, a faint edge creeping into his voice. “Planning to say something? Or did you come back just to stand there and…”