Striving for the Lotus's Bloom

In front of the gates of the Saint Sigurd Cain Estate lay a vast, hundred-meter square plaza. Its surface, paved with cobblestones, was dominated by a single statue: a knight, his chest pierced by a spear, yet still propped on his longsword, refusing to fall.

This was the statue of Sigurd Saint-Shine, the Battle God, ancestor of the Saint Sigurd Cain family!

An interesting scene was unfolding when Du Chen arrived beneath the statue.

A burly, bald man, clad in a sleeveless burlap tunic and black shorts, was currently using his bear-like physique to utterly dominate a dozen Saint Sigurd Cain warriors. Though these warriors were formidable, armed with blades and armor, the giant brute, all by himself, had them sprawled on the ground, his bare, massive feet raining down upon them like a sudden, furious storm.

Yet, even as he mercilessly pummeled the warriors, the burly man was wailing like a lost child. "Young Master is gone! What will become of Aliza?!"

This was Aliza, Francis's only friend. He was the same age as Du Chen, only fifteen this year!

And his mind was somewhat… not quite right!

Not far away, an old man dressed as a white-robed missionary sat slumped. His face was kind, his age somewhere in the eighties or nineties, with snowy white hair and beard neatly combed, cascading to his chest. This was old Foye, who had served Francis for over a decade.

At this moment, old Foye's gaze was blank, his numb face devoid of all expression. He paid no heed to Aliza's "atrocities," as if he had gone utterly senseless. Ever since Francis's death, he had been this way.

A wave of warmth washed over Du Chen as a sense of kinship blossomed in his chest. But as his gaze fell upon the pummeled warriors, a familiar itching sensation flared on his backside.

It was the Precious Lotus Scripture, urging Du Chen on: *Hurry, save them! There's a good deed to be done! Don't you want to get closer to women sooner? Then rescue them from Aliza's clutches!*

Du Chen chuckled to himself, secretly grateful that a good deed presented itself so soon after his reincarnation. After all, opportunities for good deeds weren't easy to come by!

He covered the distance in a few swift strides, shouting, "Aliza, stop! I'm not dead! Release them at once!"

Aliza froze, and the slumped old Foye sprang up, his agile movements completely unlike those of an eighty or ninety-year-old man.

"Young Master! Young Master isn't dead! Haha, Young Master isn't dead! The Battle God protects us! Heaven has not forsaken me!"

Foye cast aside his cane and stumbled towards Du Chen. Before Du Chen could even register what was happening, the old man clutched him in a fierce embrace, tears streaming down his face as he choked out, "Young Master, it's truly wonderful that you're alive! This old servant was just about to join you!"

Du Chen's heart ached from the embrace, and unconsciously, a single line of tears traced down his own cheek.

But this was no time for emotional reunions. He continued to shout, "Aliza, release them quickly! I command you!"

"Hehe, Young Master isn't dead, I'll listen to Young Master!"

Aliza released the poor warriors and rushed over. The three embraced, and Aliza, too, burst into sobs. "Young Master, they wanted to drive me away, and I didn't want to go, so they hit me, but they couldn't beat me!"

At this, the battered warriors picked themselves up from the ground, staring at Du Chen in shock. "Heavens, Francis isn't dead! Quickly, go inform His Grace the Duke!" They hastily scurried into the estate. In truth, servants who had seen Du Chen rushing out earlier had already gone to report. Duke Anjes had already received the news.

The three of them hugged, six streams of tears flowing ceaselessly.

*Damn it, why am I crying? Cursed Francis, couldn't you have left me something good? I don't want these emotions!* Du Chen inwardly resisted these unfamiliar feelings he had never experienced before. But just then, the persistent itch on his backside intensified abruptly, coalescing into a sharp, needle-like pang. It felt as if tiny needles were pricking and redrawing the lotus bud tattoo on his rump.

Beneath Du Chen's robes, the first of the thirty-six lotus buds on his backside—already on the verge of blossoming—quivered as if imbued with a life of its own. Its petals slowly unfolded, growing more vibrant and enchanting with each moment.

Finally, just as it was a hair's breadth from fully opening, the tattoo ceased its transformation.

He had completed another stage of the Precious Lotus Scripture's cultivation.

...

First, one must accumulate immortal-grade Votive Power through good deeds and virtuous conduct.

Second, before the cultivation art is complete, one must abstain from women. Should one dare to approach women, forced castration will be the consequence!

This was the Precious Lotus Scripture, which Du Chen both loved and hated. The thirty-six lotus bud tattoos on his backside served as the Scripture's progress bar.

Daoist Grape had said that once all thirty-six water lotuses fully bloomed, Du Chen would have achieved complete mastery, and only then could he approach women!

In his previous life, Du Chen had accumulated countless good deeds and even risked his life for righteousness, which was why the first lotus bud had reached the precipice of blossoming.

The recent change in the first lotus on Du Chen's backside was the reward for saving those poor warriors from Aliza's feet. Now, he was just a hair's breadth away from its full bloom.

The cultivation of the Precious Lotus Scripture was truly this simple: perform good deeds—the lotus blooms!

As for the rest, Du Chen would have to slowly experience it. For now, he hadn't felt any peculiar abilities granted by the Scripture.

...

While Du Chen, moved to tears by old Foye and Aliza, was still struggling to resist these emotions of kinship and friendship, a procession of people emerged from within the Saint Sigurd Cain Estate's gates.

Among them was a middle-aged man in a sharp, fitted azure military uniform, his chest adorned with numerous medals. On either side of him stood a young man. The three bore similar resemblances: tall, imposing, and powerfully built, and all of them had fiery red hair!

This was Francis's father, Duke Anjes, along with his two elder brothers, Steve and Charlie.

When they approached Du Chen, the three red-haired figures among the four father-and-sons made Du Chen's golden hair stand out, almost jarringly.

"Excellent, little brother, you're still alive!" Elder brother Steve rushed forward, tears in his eyes.

Seeing Steve's joyful expression, a ripple of pleasure stirred within Du Chen. Yet, the moment his eyes fell upon his father, Anjes, and his second brother, Charlie, that fleeting joy instantly transformed into a maelstrom of fear, grievance, and indignation!

Little Francis's memories resurfaced, reminding Du Chen that ever since his mother's death over a decade ago, he and his father had met only a few dozen times. And each encounter was marked by Duke Anjes's chilling indifference and utter neglect towards his son!

His second brother, Charlie, had been a frequent tormentor, devoid of any fraternal kindness or affection.

*How could this be?* Du Chen wondered. *Could it be because Francis used to be an idiot, which was why his father and second brother treated him so poorly?*

Indeed, his memories confirmed it: the Saint Sigurd Cain family was one of the Lanning Empire's foremost noble houses. His father, Duke Anjes, was a man of immense power and influence, yet he had often been ridiculed by other nobles due to his simple-minded son, causing him significant loss of face in aristocratic circles!

A smile touched Du Chen's lips. *From today onwards, Francis would no longer be the disgrace of the Saint Sigurd Cain family!* To secure his future as a privileged young master, he decided to give Anjes a pleasant surprise!

"Father, I'm not dead!" Du Chen looked at Anjes, a hopeful smile on his face, anticipating his "father's" joyful expression in this new life.

But Anjes only disappointed Du Chen. He gazed at his third son with an icy stare, merely stating, "Hmm, I know."

At this, his second brother, Charlie, scoffed coldly, "How did you manage to come back alive? Didn't you know Father already informed all the nobles of your demise? What wretched luck! Now we'll have to correct the news again. Tomorrow, all the nobles will probably be saying that the Saint Sigurd Cain family can't even tell if someone's dead or alive!"

By the sound of it, it seemed Du Chen's survival was hardly a good thing!

"Charlie, it's a good thing that our third brother is alive. Let those nobles chatter all they want!" Steve glared at his second brother.

"Uh, Father, both elder brothers," Du Chen gently pushed away the two men who were embracing him, bowed deeply to his father and brothers, and smiled. "In the past, I was known as the disgrace of Saint Sigurd Cain, bringing shame upon the family's name. But from now on, that will no longer be the case!"

Everyone present collectively froze. *This Francis, now alive, seemed… different?*