Using the alias Yang Yi, Hong Yi—son of Hong Qingyi, leader of the Qingyi Gang—was led to the back door of the Zhu Mansion.
"Remember!"
"From this day forward, you are a member of the Zhu Mansion's Nursing Home."
Elder Zhang from the Orphanage ruffled his hair with a coarse hand, his voice filled with emotion as he spoke:
"For the past two years, you've had plenty to eat and drink at the Orphanage and have even been able to practice Martial Arts. This is all thanks to Young Master Zhu's benevolence. You must never forget it. Once you enter the Zhu Mansion, you absolutely cannot slack off. Do whatever you're told."
"Yes." Yang Yi felt a sting in his nose.
"I know."
He wasn't made of stone. For two years, Elder Zhang had treated him like his own nephew, looking out for him in every way. Now that they were parting, they would only be able to see each other once a month during his leave. He couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the separation.
