The weather was growing colder, but the midday sun was pleasantly warm.
Yang Jing sat on an old square stool, leaning against the main hall's doorway. He soaked in the sun while pondering his future plans.
"Feng Lei, you can stop right there. Our family has no intention of selling the land..."
Suddenly, the sound of an argument erupted from outside the courtyard gate. He recognized a few of the voices—they were his grandfather's and grandmother's.
"Hm?" Yang Jing frowned and stood up, about to go see what was happening.
Just as he got to his feet, he saw his mother, Liu Cui Ling, rushing out with a kitchen knife in her hand, a gray cloth apron tied around her waist. She didn't forget to call back a warning to him, "Jing'Er, don't come out! Wait in the house."
But Yang Jing didn't stay hidden at home. He followed her to the courtyard gate. Liu Cui Ling glanced at him as he came out but said nothing, only shifting her body to stand in front of him.
Five burly men stood before the gate, all dressed in coarse, short-sleeved work clothes. The leader, a brute of a man, had his shirt open, revealing a tuft of black hair on his chest and a vicious look on his face.
Yang Jing had inherited the original owner's memories and knew who these men were. They were local thugs who ran rampant through the countryside. The black-haired brute in the lead was named Feng Lei, and the other four were his lackeys.
"Yang Shouzhuo, I'd advise you to do this the easy way."
"The land surrounding your two acres in the Northern Lands now all belongs to Master Ning. I suggest you get smart and watch who you're dealing with."
"There are people you can afford to offend, and there are people you can't."
"Master Ning is being merciful, offering to buy your land with money. If some other rich and powerful master had taken a liking to your land, they'd just use a few tricks. Not only would you lose those two acres of high-quality fields, but you wouldn't see a single coin."
Feng Lei folded his arms, flexing his brawny biceps. A cold, humorless smile played on his lips as he delivered his threat.
Hearing Feng Lei's threat, the faces of the Yang Family members paled slightly.
They knew very well that Feng Lei wasn't exaggerating. In this day and age, some powerful landlords would stop at nothing to acquire more land.
"My patience has its limits." Feng Lei snorted. "Master Ning said he'll give you another month to think it over. After a month, Master Ning might not want your two acres anymore. And when that time comes, heh heh—"
Feng Lei's vicious gaze swept over each member of the Yang Family, his threat hanging palpably in the air.
Standing at his family's courtyard gate, Yang Jing heard Feng Lei's words clearly. 'So this is them playing nice before they get rough? If the Yang Family still refuses to sell those two acres of high-quality fields to Master Ning after a month, I'm afraid these people will start using force.'
Feng Lei turned, his gaze finally landing on Yang Jing, who stood just behind Liu Cui Ling. Meeting Yang Jing's stare, he curled his lip into a cruel, cold sneer.
He knew the Yang boy had been accepted into a Martial Arts Hall in the city and had been somewhat wary because of it.
But half a month ago, the Yang boy had apparently fainted from fright in an old mansion. He knew the place; it just looked a bit gloomy. There was no way it was haunted. Back when he was down on his luck, he'd even slept a few nights in that deserted house himself.
With a disposition like that, even if the Yang boy really was learning martial arts, he'd never amount to anything. Sooner or later, he'd be kicked out of the Martial Arts Hall.
Feng Lei's apprehension lessened considerably, emboldening him to put more pressure on the Yang Family.
'The kid's such a coward. I could probably scare him stiff just by glaring at him…' The thought crossed Feng Lei's mind. He then retracted his gaze, raised his left arm in a simple gesture, and said, "Let's go!"
As he spoke, his four lackeys followed him away, leaving only the Yang Family members in front of the gate.
Only then did the neighbors dare to gather around and offer words of comfort, all while cursing Feng Lei and his thugs for acting as a tyrant's lackeys.
After a few brief words, Yang Shouzhuo called everyone back into the courtyard.
Back inside, everyone wore a heavy expression.
Feng Lei's recent threat had cast a shadow over their hearts.
His grandfather, Yang Shouzhuo, took out a long-stemmed pipe. Frowning, he sat on the steps of the main hall's doorway and began to puff away.
His mother, Liu Cui Ling, lowered her head and went into the kitchen to get busy with lunch.
"If there's really no other way, we'll just sell those two acres of high-quality fields. Besides, Jing'Er needs silver coins for his martial arts training," the old man said, tapping his pipe.
"Circumstances are against us. Master Ning wants to consolidate the land north of the village, so he's definitely fixated on our two acres. Sigh..." Grandmother Qin sighed.
"Let's wait and see. Didn't Feng Lei say he's giving us a month? We can try to pull some strings, see if we can get Master Ning to raise the price a little," the old man said, his brow deeply furrowed. "Yan'Er's in-laws seem to have some connection to Master Ning's household steward. We can have Yan'Er go and ask around."
"Alright, I'll have Yan'Er ask," Grandmother Qin nodded. Her gaze fell upon her grandson standing nearby, and her heart settled a little. "Once Jing'Er becomes accomplished in his martial arts, what are a few acres of land? Our family might even see the kind of prosperity the Ning Family has one day."
Yang Jing's heart grew heavy as he listened to his grandparents' conversation.
The Yang Family had accumulated twenty-two acres of land over several generations—five acres of high-quality fields and seventeen of low-quality fields. With that much land, they were considered one of the more well-off families in the village.
But just to support Yang Jing's martial arts training, they had sold off so much that only two acres of high-quality and ten acres of low-quality fields remained.
It was only because the Yang Family had a solid foundation that they could sell so much land and still support themselves.
But now, those last two acres of high-quality fields had finally caught the eye of a powerful local family.
"Father, Mother, Jing'Er, time to eat."
His mother, Liu Cui Ling, peeked her head out of the kitchen and called out to the three people in the courtyard.