Chapter 546: Perspective

Chapter 546: Chapter 546: Perspective

Three years ago, Flying Dragon would never have imagined that one day he’d be living in a house like this.

There’s a garden, a fish pond, a fake mountain, pavilions and lofts in the yard, and the front and back yards together cover a whole thirty-five mu! Every time he lies on the lounge by the fish pond in the back yard, he feels like he’s living in a dream.

Suddenly, his chin hurts—a chunk of the beard he finally managed to grow an inch long just got yanked off by a little hand. Looks like learning to keep a beard like other men is still a bit difficult.

"Pulling my beard again? Are you itching for a beating?"

Honestly, when Flying Dragon widens his eyes and raises his brows, he really looks every bit the "ferocious menace" people call him. No wonder Shen Hao always jokes he’s got a "face full of tough meat." Most folks would be scared seeing him like that, but the one pulling his beard clearly isn’t scared at all.

"Daddy, your beard... it’s prickly, so I helped you pluck it! Mommy doesn’t have a beard!"

Flying Dragon curled his lips, propped himself up, and grabbed the little rascal pulling his beard, then tossed him up and caught him, making the kid laugh out loud.

This is the second kid, born just last year, not even two years old now, and wild as they come, bold too—almost nothing fazes him. Right now, only this second one isn’t afraid of Flying Dragon at home. He teases his dad all the time. If this were the older boy, his butt would’ve been swollen long ago.

Funny thing is, Flying Dragon just likes this chubby second boy more—maybe because he eats well and is so round? He remembers Master Shen once said, "Round things are always easy to love." Is that really the case?

Thinking of this, he gently pinched his son’s cheek again—so soft, and seems even chubbier lately.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Flying Dragon had to put the second boy down, since whenever he pinches the kid’s fat cheeks, the kid yanks his beard—pulls it out as if he’s pulling out carrots.

"Throw me up high! Daddy, do it again!" The little one hugged his legs, not ready to give up, wanting to play the tossing game some more.

"Get outta here. I play with you, you pull out my beard!"

The second boy made a face. You think he’d cry? No way, this little guy just took off running on his short legs. If his dad won’t play, someone else will. There’s plenty of people at home—besides Dad and Mom, who would turn him down?

Watching his son run off, Flying Dragon grinned from ear to ear. Now this is what you call living the life.

After a while, his wife brought over a plate of fruit—didn’t peel it, just washed it. Flying Dragon grabbed one and bit right in. In the past, they rarely bought fruit—too expensive. Now, whenever the season comes, he can eat as much as he likes. As for peeling and slicing? Why bother? It’s not like you can’t eat the peel—no need to fuss.

"Kids’ dad, the big one asked me to come talk to you, he... he doesn’t want to go to school anymore."

This woman’s looks were plain, even a bit aged. Though she dressed decently, she had none of the poise of a wealthy matron. When facing Flying Dragon, she seemed timid—loving, but also a little afraid, the very picture of a country wife in a male-run household.

But even so, she’s still the lady of this big house—the only one.

The past two years, as the family’s gotten better off, Flying Dragon no longer has to lay low or hide all the time, so she’s more settled, even gave birth to the second boy. The most surprising thing is, the man who used to seem unreliable didn’t bring home a younger, prettier wife—in this house, it’s still only her. Whenever he’s home, he always holds her close to sleep, never once despising her. Life really is sweet—maybe the ancestors are watching over them?

Only the eldest son is a handful—he’s half grown now but still as stubborn as a mule, wild at heart, always wanting to tag along with his dad and thinks it’s glorious and cool, always looking down on what’s taught in school. For days, he’s been pestering her to plead with his father. The big one doesn’t dare bring this up to his father himself.

"Hmph. Why didn’t that brat come himself?" Flying Dragon didn’t even act angry—he expected this. They say no one knows their child better than the father. He knows his boy—he’s a wild horse that can’t settle down, only sees the family’s recent success, doesn’t know what it cost them. Think it’s that easy to make it out there?

"He wouldn’t dare, he’s scared you’ll beat him. Kids’ dad, maybe... maybe we should just let him be?"

"Nonsense!" Flying Dragon swallowed his mouthful of fruit, furrowed his brow, and raised his voice. "What the hell do you know? How long did I have to search to find him a teacher? He thinks he can just quit if he wants? Back then, I had to do chores for people as a scholar’s assistant just to learn my letters, got ordered around like a dog every day. Later, only because I could read did I get to act as a middleman, finally got my break. Now he hasn’t even finished learning his characters and wants to run wild? Nonsense!

You’re his mother and don’t even want what’s good for him—why spoil him? You really want him to turn out like me?"

The woman shrank back a little, scared. She knew going to school was a good thing, but she’s soft-hearted, never with strong opinions—just gives in when the boy asks.

"Well... well, turning out like you isn’t... isn’t so bad."

"You..." Flying Dragon grunted but didn’t curse his wife. Instead, he said, "There’s no future doing what I do—it’s all up to luck whether you live or die. I don’t want our big boy ending up like this. Being an official is better. Even a junior official lives safe and steady, and our family’s line can go on for generations."

An official?

The woman stared blankly at those words, her face slowly lighting up with excitement. In the end, she grabbed her man’s arm and said eagerly, "Kids’ dad! Do you mean it? Our family could have an official? Our big boy could actually become an official?!"

An official! What a glorious and distant title. The woman’s sweetest dreams were just this—being as comfortable and well-off as they are now, never imagining an even better future. An official—such a beautiful hope, never even in her dreams. Could her own boy really make it come true?

"Of course. You think I’ve been making it all these years without connections? Without some way in, could I have done it? Tell that rascal his father said school is not negotiable—this is just the beginning. Later on, I’ll find him a better teacher for further studies. And he can’t slack on his martial arts either—if he dares get lazy, he’ll get beat! You keep an eye on him! Got it?"

"Mm, mm! Kids’ dad, don’t worry, I’ll keep a close watch! If he tries skipping his lessons again, I’ll beat him too, use a stick if I have to!"

Seeing this, Flying Dragon chuckled to himself—he knew his wife would finally toughen up. Compared to their son suffering a bit, she obviously cared much more about having a real official in the family’s future. Not that Flying Dragon was lying—he really does have connections. As long as the boy isn’t a total fool, he can get him into the system—be it brokerage, the Xuanqing Guard, or the military. Maybe not a big shot, but his status would be solid enough.

Of course, all of that depends on Flying Dragon still being able to stick with that official and not getting thrown off the cart by him. ℯℯ𝑙.

Don’t let Flying Dragon’s rough ways fool you—he’s sharper than anyone and he’s got a sense of urgency, always feeling he’s not that talented, his job not so special, and he could be replaced any time.

Come to think of it...it’s been a long time since he last heard from Lord Shen...