But now, he was no longer the bag of bones he used to be. His complexion was healthy, his spirits were high, and his eyes were clear. Of course, his legs were still paralyzed.
Luojin was focused on the wooden sword in his hands, studying it as if it were some incredible treasure.
Luojin’s mother had gradually come to terms with their situation. After her son squandered their fortune, the Lu Family had been supporting them. She had no way to repay their kindness, so this was the only way she could give back to that son-in-law of the Luo Family.
’Am I hallucinating?’
Luojin’s mother was taken aback for a moment. She said nothing, simply nodding her head.
"I can move..."
"What... is that?" Luojin muttered. ’I remember clearly there was nothing there a moment ago. Where did it suddenly come from?’
Luojin sipped his soup in silence. For the past several days, he had been reading the news.
It wasn’t until his two children kept calling "Daddy" by his side that Luojin slowly returned to his senses.
The heat surged wildly through his blood vessels, meridians, and bones, rushing to every corner of his body!
Whenever he saw his uncle-in-law’s name in the paper, or read reports about him, he would always stop and read every single word.
After his legs were crippled, Luojin had lost his mind for a full month.
He swore he would never cause his uncle-in-law any more trouble. He had to live a proper life from now on.
Then he turned to his wife beside him and said gently, "Yu Ying, please push me over to the table."
Luojin was left alone in the room. He picked up the spoon, scooped up a mouthful, and brought it directly to his lips.
"Mother, Yu Ying, I’ll be fine on my own. You can both go now."
"AGH...!" A low growl escaped Luojin’s lips.
He pushed the wheels of his chair with all his might, slowly moving toward the corner. As he drew closer, a voice began to echo in his mind.
This was Luojin’s wife, Liang Yuying. As for his two concubines, they had run off long after he squandered the family fortune.
A moment later, he slowly rose from his wheelchair. He looked down at the legs that were now supporting his weight.
She stood quietly beside his wheelchair, holding a handkerchief, ready to hand it to him at a moment’s notice.
"Eat it..."
If he were still the same cowardly, degenerate gambler he used to be, he would have pissed himself in terror by now, screaming for someone to come and throw this "cursed thing" out.
Luojin stared at the lump of black flesh for a full minute. His entire body turned beet red. His muscles swelled and veins bulged on his skin, making it look as though he was about to explode.
Finally, a grave expression settled on his face. ’It’s not a hallucination. This is real.’
Luojin stopped less than a meter away from the lump of black flesh. He reached out and slowly tore off a small piece.
There, in the corner, was a black object—a piece of dark flesh as large and as tall as three red bricks stacked together. And it was throbbing.
Luojin stared at it for a few seconds. Then, as if possessed, he put it in his mouth and swallowed.
"Eat it..."
In that instant, Luojin felt it. Sensation was returning to the legs that had been numb for months. Bones were mending, muscles were regenerating, and nerves were reconnecting.
Standing beside him was a woman of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, dressed in simple, elegant clothes. She had a gentle expression and a beautiful face.
"Eat it..."
Luojin looked up at her and gave a slight nod. "Thank you, Mother."
"Alright, alright. Yu Ying, come with me. We’ll go chant sutras for your uncle-in-law, pray for his long life, and for the well-being of everyone in the Lu Family."
Luojin felt grateful to have such a great relative. ’I was such an asshole before,’ he thought. ’Not only did I squander our family’s fortune, but I also made my mother worry herself sick and caused my wife to suffer. In the end, it was my uncle-in-law who had to clean up my messes time and time again.’
Sometimes, he would even read a book. What is it they say, that suffering is the cradle of literature? There’s certainly some truth to that.
As Luojin was thinking this, he ladled another spoonful of soup. But just as he did, something in the corner of the room caught his eye, and his spoon froze in mid-air.
But now, Luojin was a cripple. ’A cripple has nothing to fear. I’ve already lost everything, so what’s there left to be afraid of?’
The next second, Luojin’s pupils dilated. A scalding current of heat erupted from his stomach!
The middle-aged woman carried a bowl of soup to the table, her face full of motherly love. "My son, come. I stewed this chicken soup for you myself. I used an old hen and let it simmer for a full six hours, until the very bones were tender."
Once seated at the table, Luojin looked at the steaming bowl of chicken soup. He didn’t immediately pick up his spoon, but instead looked up at his mother and wife.
After he spoke, Luojin’s gaze returned to the still-throbbing lump of black flesh. He murmured, "Is this a treasure from an Immortal?"

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