1 Chapter 1: The Son-in-law is Trash

"Young master, please wait!" The butler reached out to stop me when I strode off. I stopped and glanced back at him, my lips curling into a sneer.

"Why?" I retorted coldly. "That damned Zhao Family from Jiang Nan needs my help now? After throwing me away three years ago, now they come crawling back to me because they are afraid that nobody will succeed their lineage? The prestigious, ancient Zhao family?"

"Please, young master…calm down…"

"Don't call me that," I cut the butler off. "I am not your young master. Never have been. Not since three years ago."

"No…" The butler protested. "You have always been the second young master of the Zhao family."

"Stop lying," I scoffed. "I haven't been a member of the Zhao family since my grandmother disowned me three years ago, exiling me from home and forcing me out because she was afraid that I would threaten my brother's position as heir."

"Old madam knows how talented you are…she knows more than anybody about your strength," the butler explained. "There were many elders supporting you from the shadows, many of your relatives who support you as the legitimate successor of the Zhao clan. As long as you accept the spiritual legacy, you will inherit the Divine Dragon spirit and succeed as the new Patriarch…"

"I refuse," I replied icily. "Those same elders and relatives said nothing when I was driven out of the Zhao family. You all just see me as a tool. A political tool, a family tool…a weapon, even. You used me, discarded me, and now you want me to come back after throwing me away like an object? Fuck that."

"But only you can inherit the Divine Dragon spirit now!"

"I don't need the Divine Dragon spirit. I don't need anything from the Zhao family. Now leave."

Turning away, I waved the butler back dismissively and strode off. The butler chased after me desperately.

"Young master, wait!" He begged in a trembling voice. "If you don't follow me back, then how am I going to explain to old madam?"

I glanced at him over my shoulder and pushed my glasses up my nose, the lenses gleaming and giving off the impression of my uncaring expression. "You can tell my grandmother that I, Zhao Huan Shi, am no longer part of the Zhao family. Whatever the fate or crisis of the Zhao family, it has nothing to do with me. From the day she cast me out of home three years ago just so she can solidify my brother's position, we have severed all ties. Today, I am simply the son-in-law of the Mu Rong family. My only relatives are my wife, her parents and her grandfather. No one else, not least anyone from the Zhao family. Besides, I'm not the only child of the Zhao family. Ask her to choose one of my cousins. The ones she didn't exile from the family."

With that, I stalked off.

"Wait!"

"No, I won't. I have work to do. So stop hindering me."

I then hopped onto my bicycle and cycled away, leaving the aged butler behind. Pedaling as hard as I could, I zoomed off before the butler could jump into the flashy limousine he had arrived in and chase after me. Even if a car was faster than a bicycle, it didn't matter to me, a spiritualist. Qi flared up around me and I weaved through the roads and pavements, disappearing into the mass of tightly packed vehicles and making it impossible for the butler to catch up to me on foot.

I meant every word I said. I wasn't going to return to the Zhao family who threw me away in favor of my brother. Not that I cared. My older brother could succeed as the heir, for all I cared. I was never interested in the position of patriarch, nor did I covet the Divine Dragon spirit that represented the core of our clan. I just wanted to be a summoner. That was all.

And I succeeded. I didn't need the Divine Dragon spirit to be a summoner. I could summon my own spirits. Or spirit, actually, since I only had one, but I needed only one at the moment. He was more than a handful.

Cycling to the antique shop that I worked in, I pulled the brakes on my handles and skidded to a slow stop. Hopping off my bicycle, I locked it to the bike stand outside and approached the entrance. Reaching for my keys, I unlocked the shutters and raised them, pushing the door and entering the shop. It took me a few moments to set up the store before I officially opened it for business. Sitting at the counter, I examined the antiques placed within the glass cases.

There was a huge variety of them, ranging from jade amulets to small statues of deities and Bodhisattvas. A gigantic mirror leaned against the far side of the wall, with eight trigrams placed at the top. There was a rack with antique weapons – the Mu Rong family having acquired the license to sell melee weapons (not guns, though) to public figures. Several spears, swords and bows…since there were no customers at the moment, I took out one of the spears and began polishing it.

Weapon maintenance was crucial in my line of work. If the quality degraded, then we wouldn't be able to sell them off at a high price. Not that these weapons were anything valuable. I couldn't sense any spiritual qi from them, which meant they weren't authentic. My grandfather-in-law, Mu Rong Lao, had posted me here to track down any artifacts and relics from ancient times that might be useful for cultivation or cultivators. I was particularly interested in weapons.

Not that I could wield them – I wasn't well-versed in swordsmanship or in the use of a spear, and my accuracy wasn't that good. Of all the weapons, I was better with a bow, but I still had trouble hitting a moving target. Plus…I wore glasses. My myopia should tell you how limited my accuracy could be. And no, before you ask, cultivation didn't heal you of your myopia.

While polishing and maintaining the weapons, no customers came in. In this day and age, it was only natural that people didn't believe in "superstitions" or the fantastic. Rarely anyone knew about cultivation. Such spiritual practices and techniques were the domain of ancient families, who hoard arcane secrets and mystical relics for themselves. Regular people were not privy to the secrets of cultivation and longevity.

With the decreasing quality of spiritual qi in modern environment, cultivation resources were becoming increasingly scarce. The secret clans competed intensely for whatever scraps they could find from the ancient world, often going into war with each other over such priceless treasures. A single Divine Saint could make a clan invincible, which was why they poured all their resources into nurturing cultivators and increasing their strength as much as possible.

Not that I cared. I had no intention of becoming number one. Also, my branch of cultivation was fairly unique. The Zhao family was known as a cultivator clan that specialized in summoning techniques rather than body-tempering techniques or esoteric skills that manipulated any of the five elements or warriors who tapped into the qi originating from the heavens and the earth. Even among cultivators, the Zhao family's summoning techniques were considered mysterious and incomprehensible.

Which was why…never mind.

"Husband, how's business going?"

I looked up, but even though the first visitor to my shop wasn't a customer, I wasn't disappointed. Mu Rong Shu stepped into the store, wearing a dazzling smile. I returned the smile and nodded.

"Hello, my wife. It's great to see you. Unfortunately, there hasn't been any business so far. But I've only just opened the shop, so I'm not surprised."

"Oh, that's a pity." My wife leaned over the counter to plant a kiss on my cheek. I blushed slightly, as I would whenever I saw her. Not for the first time, I couldn't help but wonder how lucky I was to have met her and married her.

Mu Rong Shu was among the most beautiful women in Cheng Shi City. Her long hair was silver, a side effect from the cultivation techniques she practiced, but the color didn't diminish her beauty one bit. In contrast to my black suit (a casual black shirt with long, dark pants), she wore a one-piece dress that was as white as snow, with gold trimmings. The white stood out sharply against the black waistcloth, and the somewhat long skirt was cut to emphasize the curve of her hips and her long, gorgeous legs.

Despite her seemingly delicate look, I was more aware than anybody about how dangerous my wife was. After all, we met under the most unusual circumstances.

Simply put, the Mu Rong family was a secret clan of assassins. The story of how I met my wife would be reserved for another time, for I had more important matters to deal with at hand.

"It's all right," I assured Mu Rong Shu. "You know as well as I do that the antique shop is just a cover. The real business only occurs every once in a while."

"Any news or contacts regarding that front?" Mu Rong Shu asked, lowering her voice and glancing about surreptitiously. I shook my head.

"Not yet. But I heard a rumor that grandfather just received information about a new tomb. He will probably tell me about it later."

"Ah, I see." Mu Rong Shu rested her elbows on the counter and placed her chin on her hands, staring at me. "If grandfather assigns you to another mission, you had best be careful. I don't want you to risk your life unnecessarily."

"Don't worry," I assured her with a smile. "You know my skills better than anybody."

Mu Rong Shu frowned and was about to say something, but someone chose that moment to step into the shop. I glanced at the entrance and was disappointed to see that it wasn't a customer.

Worse, the visitor was someone I was very familiar with.

"Oh? Cousin and cousin-in-law, are you slacking off on work?" Mu Rong Qiu – a cousin of Mu Rong Shu – swaggered in, his arm around a girl with long, pink hair. Apparently one of his new beaus. That was weird. Wasn't his girlfriend that white lotus beauty with black hair? Did he change girlfriends in less than a week?

I wasn't given the chance to ask about that because Mu Rong Qiu sneered. "I don't understand why grandfather insists on giving you this little rundown shop. It's not as if it makes any money. In fact, it's causing our family to lose a lot of money."

He then turned to Mu Rong Shu and shook his head. "Cousin, I can't believe you agreed to marry such a useless trash. You're so young and beautiful, you could have your pick of any man in Cheng Shi City. Why choose this loser?"

"My husband is not trash," Mu Rong Shu replied icily.

"Oh, really?" Mu Rong Qiu leered at me. He gave his current squeeze a little…uh, squeeze, eliciting a giggle out of her. "Darling, even you have heard about the trash son-in-law of my Mu Rong family, right? That's him over there."

"Yes, indeed!" The pink-haired girl exclaimed, bringing her hands to her mouth. "Abandoned by his own family and forced to marry into the Mu Rong clan! A useless son-in-law who has to rely on his wife to raise him, a spineless man who eats soft rice."

"You do realize I have a proper job, right?" I sighed. Mu Rong Qiu had an overly inflated opinion of himself, which was why grandfather didn't even bother to tell him about the true nature of the antique shop. No doubt the braggart would ruin everything by exposing the Mu Rong family's secrets. It was telling about how pathetic he was when his own grandfather chose to trust me – a son-in-law and in many ways an outsider – over his own flesh-and-blood grandson.

"Oh, you do indeed!" Mu Rong Qiu said mockingly, glancing around at the shop. "So where are the customers? Why is your shop so empty?"

"Yeah, well…your presence in here is scaring away any potential customers," I replied sourly.

Bad mistake.

"What did you say, you trash?!" Mu Rong Qiu thundered. Mu Rong Shu sighed and covered her pretty face in exasperation when she saw her cousin snap, but she wisely stepped away and stayed out of it when the idiot confronted me. "Are you blaming me for your own incompetence?"

"No…"

"Apologize!" Mu Rong Qiu snarled, and then pointed at the ground. "Kowtow three times to me and call me granddad and I might consider letting you off!"

Was this guy…serious?

"What if I refuse?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Then don't blame me for being impolite!" Mu Rong Qiu yelled before thrusting his arm at me. Black flames exploded around the length of his arm, blazing furiously. A vortex of insidious qi swirled around him, causing antiques to fall off the display tables and break. The spear I had been polishing, along with the other set of weapons I had laid out on the counter to maintain, fell off from the sheer violence of his aura.

As expected of an assassin raised by the Mu Rong family.

"Kneel for me, trash!"

I watched calmly as Mu Rong Qiu's blazing palm streaked toward my chest with enough force to obliterate my heart.