Chapter 1784 - 320:

But faced with this situation, you can't comfort yourself, nor deceive yourself, nor can you ignore it.

Old man: "So, my Jin family isn't pretending, it has truly declined."

Whose family bloodline, generation after generation born with such illness, won't become thin.

Moreover, the Jin family hasn't given up on the oath to the ancestors and the Dragon King.

Li Zhiyuan walked to the study, stood in front of the desk, and picked up a pen.

"She doesn't have it."

"Are you referring to Ping?"

"Yes."

"Ping is a child I picked up in winter, abandoned by her parents in a basket under the Jiang Locking Tower, when I went over to uncover the quilt, her face had turned purple from cold.

She is not my bloodline, naturally, she won't be affected by this curse.

Additionally, although Ping is able to manage her life, her mind isn't good. Despite her old age now, she would be a grandma in other families, yet her mental age remains forever at eight."

"Eight?"

Zhao Yi blinked. Why did Ah You and grandma interact and chat with her, but not realize it?

But on second thought, Ah You didn't see it... which is quite normal.

Li Zhiyuan: "Do you only have this adopted daughter at home?"

Old man: "Yes."

Li Zhiyuan: "No one else?"

Old man: "No, just me and Ping in this home."

Li Zhiyuan nodded.

Old man: "I feel ashamed facing the ancestors."

Li Zhiyuan: "Your Jin family has already paid enough for this, it is the Zhao family that owes you."

Old man: "But I ultimately retreated, too painful, this burden is too heavy, I don't want my descendants to continue suffering the same endless torment."

Li Zhiyuan: "Does Ping know how to draw and write?"

Old man: "She does, our Ping was a genius since childhood."

On the desk are writing templates and paintings, many are newly done.

The old man, having reached that state, naturally wouldn't have the leisure to write and paint, so these are Ping's works.

It seems the old man truly pours immense love into this adopted daughter.

When grandma was young, the old man surely spent more effort and patience teaching her life skills, grooming her neatly, teaching her writing and painting.

Li Zhiyuan picked up the newly painted piece, blew on it, walked to the bedside, and presented it to the old man.

The old man only glanced at it. Suddenly, a piercing friction sound came from the strings.

Li Zhiyuan painted what grandma had posted on the notice board for a missing person notice.

Old man: "This... this is?"

Li Zhiyuan: "Ping sold crispy sugar at the Jiang Locking Tower, she posted this painting on the notice board."

No wonder the painting was so good, the writing so pretty, but the introduction below was blurry, not even leaving the most crucial contact information.

Considering Ping's mental age is only eight, neglecting such critical information can be understood.

"Creak... creak... creak..."

The strings in the room began to tremble collectively.

The old man's gaze at Li Zhiyuan was deeply wary.

Moreover, he was prepared to take action against Li Zhiyuan.

Zhao Yi knew he was misunderstood, so he spoke:

"The Zhao family's ancestral home has been burned to ashes, the outer residence will also be dissolved in a couple of days, in short, the Zhao family is already gone."

Shock flickered in the old man's eyes once again.

Only the Xuanmen of Jiujiang Territory truly knows how terrifying Jiujiang Zhao is, a family that produced a Dragon King.

Old man: "Who... who acted against the Zhao family... ?"

Zhao Yi glanced at the youth and replied: "It was me."

Old man: "Your... surname is?"

Zhao Yi: "My surname is Zhao."

"Buzz... buzz... buzz..."

The string sound elongated.

After a long while, the strings recomposed into speech:

"Which... Zhao?"

"Jiujiang Zhao's Zhao, I sent my ancestors from above my head, all to the Underworld."

"Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!"

Inside the old man, raging waves surged, yet that sense of vigilance disappeared.

Li Zhiyuan asked: "Why did Ping paint this painting?"

The old man didn't answer.

Li Zhiyuan: "Someone with a mental age of eight shouldn't be able to paint something they haven't seen."

Old man: "What Ping painted was her childhood."

Li Zhiyuan raised his left hand and snapped his fingers.

"Snap!"

The old man only felt his fingertips twitch, a thread pulling uncontrollably, above his head, on the ceiling, a painting unfolded.

The person in the painting was what Ping painted, but the old man's painting skills were superior. Although the subject was one person, the one above the old man's bed was noticeably more lifelike.

This painting, not only aged, but the edges were blurred and mottled, marks left from repeatedly soaked tears.

The old man raised his head and said: "Our Ping... was beautiful as a child, wasn't she?"

Li Zhiyuan: "Yes, it's hard to tell this was her childhood."

Old man: "How can it be hard to tell, even now, when our Ping goes out, she remains sharp and clean, completely different from those elderly ladies of the same age."

Li Zhiyuan: "No choice, always pretending to be mysterious, always playing mysterious, it's really hard to look good."

Old man: "What?"

Li Zhiyuan: "But her daughter is quite pretty, because she worked hard to earn, her daughter doesn't have to farm."

Old man: "You mean..."

Li Zhiyuan: "Her granddaughter is even prettier, likes wearing green skirts, even though she has fewer friends but still lives quite carefree, now has skipped grades, has many classmates and friends."

Old man: "You know her?"

Li Zhiyuan: "Yes."

The old man looked at Li Zhiyuan in disbelief: "Is she... your grandma?"

Zhao Yi: "My grandma."

The old man was stunned.

Li Zhiyuan: "You don't need to be defensive and secretive towards us, we have no interest in exploiting your bloodline."

Zhao Yi: "Let's be frank, as you can see, with our power, if we wanted to do anything to you or the Jin family, there's no need to waste so many words here."

Old man: "I have a daughter... When my daughter was born, at first sight, I had the thought of betraying the family ancestral precepts.

I'm a selfish person, I can't imagine the scene when my daughter is enduring such pain.

Eventually, I made a decision, I would send her away."

"You handed her to a trafficker?"

"Yes, because I can't know where she might be trafficked to, yet my daughter's Life Chart is strong, not one of early death, the Jin family for generations has lived long lives.

The more painful, the longer-lived, I feel it's a form of revenge."

Zhao Yi: "Not entirely secure."

Old man: "When the trafficker returned to Jiujiang, I killed him, completely burying the secret of where my daughter was."

Zhao Yi: "That's good, now it's secure."

Old man: "Back then, I could still get out of bed, fearing one day, in a moment of longing, I'd go find her back. But if I brought her back, to this home, I... she...

Is she... okay now?

You, no, you just said she has a daughter and granddaughter now? That should mean... they're living okay, right?"

"At first life was pretty tough because her husband passed early, her son-in-law also passed early, but now, in the village, the way of living is rather exceptional."

Two years ago, when I first returned to Nantong, Cui Cui's room had a television, enough snacks and sodas.

Old man: "She's endured hardships... my daughter... haha..."

Li Zhiyuan: "I see the scales on your back are starting to agitate, calm down for a moment, then we can speak properly later."

These things, let the old man digest slowly, Li Zhiyuan was worried he'd get too agitated and pass out.

Li Zhiyuan pushed the wheelchair and left the bedroom with Zhao Yi.

At the hall doorway, they saw Ping had returned.

Lin Shuyou was addressing her as "grandma," chatting with Ping on a bench in the courtyard, the scene normal, no sense of discord.

Li Zhiyuan and Zhao Yi's gazes landed on that well.

Zhao Yi: "I found my skin, Brother Xiao Yuan."

Li Zhiyuan: "Yes, the skin is yours."

Zhao Yi: "That residual spirit, I feel it's also connected to me, fits me well, what do you think, Brother Xiao Yuan?"

In terms of value, the Black Flood Dragon's residual spirit is more precious.

Li Zhiyuan: "Yes, it's yours too."

Zhao Yi: "Really, ancestor?"

Li Zhiyuan: "Yes, as for the skin, ask the Liang Sisters to help with stitching and integration, their skills are definitely more precise."

Sewing Jiao Skin onto oneself is not just needlework; it involves integration and rejection, with a very low success rate, failure means death.

Not saying the Liang Sisters lack the skill... even if they have it, they're both still in a coma, and there's no telling when they'll wake up.

"Haha, Xiao Yuan, I was joking."

"So was I."

"The residual spirit is naturally yours, Li."