One Lifetime Is Never Enough

1.85 Young Master Qian

Qian FanSheng was sitting on a plush chair inside his room, his head resting on the padded top rail of the chair. He was blankly staring at the ceiling. The chair was a unique piece, custom-made by a skilled Hun'ang's carpenter - it was a wooden chair, modified to have some padding affixed to its arms, as well as the seat itself, and the headrest(1).

Qian FanSheng took pride that in all of Hun'ang, he was the only one who could afford to have such a comfortable seating made personally for him. Although he had never been to the capital city of Da Lang, he doubted that the nobility there, and perhaps even the Imperial Family themselves - would have such fine furniture like he had in his estate.

Qian FanSheng, was truly a little town's lord, with no regard of the outside world beyond his comfortable abode.

He had been feeling bored for the past day as he could only lay motionlessly either in his bed or the chair. Getting out to play was not an option as he thought that his face now looked like a squashed bitter-gourd. His broken nose contributed to his look - it was badly swollen to the point that he had all the mirrors in his courtyard and his room removed.

He also could not use his injured arms to eat or to relieve himself when he needed to go to the toilet, but he was not actually aggrieved with that issue. He could always beckon for some of his many young maids and servants to assist him.

His greatest power was his wealth. Everything must have a price.

Bai YuLan was no difference.

The previous day, he had arrived back at his house, much earlier than the Royal Highness and the sword-wielding hoodlum. Upon seeing the miserable state he was in, his father was thrown into a rage - much to Qian FanSheng's delight.

The physician who had attended to him, afterwards, told both father and son that Qian FanSheng's arms would have little use in the future. He would not be able to practice martial arts - no harm done there, as Qian FanSheng deemed himself to be never a fighter, always a lover. He would likely also experience tremor and feebleness whenever he hold an object, and he most definitely would not be able to lift heavy objects in the future.

All in all, a pretty good outcome, as Qian FanSheng was never a worker or a hard labourer. His father was not too worried about it either. Both just pestered the physician to fix the broken nose.

After a lot of pain, his nose was no longer crooked as his delicate bone was put in place once more. However, half of his face was now covered in bandage, as well as both of his arms.

He had narrated the story to his father - a slightly glossed up version about some nouveau-riche military men from the capital city intervened in his quest to court his future wife and how the object of his affection was taken forcefully from his embrace.

He wanted his father to relay the injustice to these men - the so-called representatives from the capital city - who turned out to be some hooligans that tried to exert their power in Hun'ang.

His father agreed. After all, Old Qian was also eager for his son to take a proper wife, not just playing around with women. If there was someone Qian FanSheng was genuinely interested in, Old Qian would be on his son's side.

He was just beginning to doze off, when in his state of daze, he faintly heard robust steps coming towards his direction, and his room door was opened forcefully - the force caused its frame to smack at the wall.

Then before he could see the intruder clearly, Qian FanSheng's body was sent crashing to the wooden floor as he felt the chair tumbling forward, being kicked by someone. Once again his nose being the first to make contact with the hard surface, as he could not soften the blow by using his injured arms to prop himself.