I will wait for you

Chapter 2 ; Jiāng Chéng

The situation is unfair. Cruel. The blow on the head was not foreseen; the fan falls to the ground. With clenched fists, Jiāng Chéng turns just in time to see the silhouette of Niè Huáisāng disappear. Only then does he realize the weight of his words, their clumsiness. He did not pay attention, uttering them, too busy toiling Wèi Wúxiàn - sorry, Mò Xuányǔ, as everyone urges to believe. Acid, resentful, out of himself; this is the state of mind of Jiāng Chéng. And now remorse is added to it. He holds Jīn Líng's arm so tightly - that he grabbed it with the intention of leaving - that he probably misses crushing his bones. That's unfair. All are. Should he forgive Wèi Wúxiàn for abandoning him? For saving the Wēn and betraying him? To have preferred to play the heroes and to have abandoned the Jiāng, thus condemning them all to death!? Should he pay attention to everyone's feelings, when no one has ever cared about his own since Yànlí's death!? That nobody came to help him, that everyone was waiting for him to see if he was able to straighten his own clan!? NO. No one to send him any sympathy, if not looks, if not murmurs. Jiāng Chéng will not apologize, will not bow. He rebuilt everything himself, with his pride and dignity. He gives everyone a cold, angry look. No one dares to say anything. No one. His eyes are on Wèi Wúxiàn and Lán Wàngjīi, and a real wrath distorts his features. Before saying, or making a mistake, he goes out and trains Jīn Líng to follow him.

His heart beats hard against his chest, and he barely hears the protests of his nephew who, with his feet planted in the ground, forces him to stop at the gates of the estate. Annoyed, Jiāng Chéng turns in his direction, ready to rebuke him. But words do not have time to cross his lips, two arms come to enclose his waist, taking him by surprise. The anger then escapes in a silent breath and, for a few seconds, Jiāng Chéng does not know what to do and remains with his arms dangling. Gradually, the muscles of his shoulders relax, and he gives back the embrace to his nephew with, in his chest, sobs restrained and, in the eyes, tears that do not flow. Staring at the distance, he feels his breath calm down. Finally, they move away from each other. The silence immediately becomes disturbing. Jiāng Chéng clears his throat and, gruff, throws to Jīn Líng after awkwardly tapping his shoulder:

"Hmm. Okay. Let's see what your angle of attack will be for tomorrow."

"There is no need for an angle, jiùjiu, I hit first! But it would be more effective if you would agree to give me Zidian." Jīn Líng answers the question as recklessly as usual.

Outraged, Jiāng Chéng replies with contempt:

"And then what, again? Handle Zidian deserves it!"

"But this is my inheritance!" protested young Jīn.

"And who tells you it will be your inheritance, little presumptuous!" Jiāng Chéng threatens him, his hand raised, yet without striking him - he never did, and certainly never will. Without worrying about the threat for a penny, Jīn Líng outbid, looking as indignant as his uncle:

"I'm your only nephew! If you want another heir, you have to have a child, but no woman wants to look at you, you scare them too much with your character! And since you have wrongly educated me, women are afraid of me too," he complains.

"You...!" exclaims Jiāng Chéng. "Well, if I disinherit you, you will only have to go and cry in your uncle Guāngyáo's dress, who will have enough artifacts to offer you!"

"Pfuh! This is not this uncle who will do my combat training." He mumbles, glancing left and right to make sure Jīn Guāngyáo is not around. "But that you have a bad temper remains true."

Jiāng Chéng frowns and grabs his nephew by the collar.

"What difficult character? You want me to disinherit you today, is that it? And respect for your uncle?"