TRWSB – Chapter 1 Exile

On the official road:

A dozen or so guards were protecting a few carriages as they moved forward. Inside the largest carriage sat a child about five or six years old.

“Young master, it’s truly pitiful. How could the marquis be so heartless?”

“Young master, no matter what, you’re still the marquis’s son! I can’t believe he exiled you to such a place.”

“Young master is only six years old! He’s still so young and has been sent to such a remote place. What should we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. The young master is, after all, a talentless waste in magic and martial arts. If he had shown any potential, the marquis wouldn’t have made such a decision.”

“Why is the young master a talentless waste in magic and martial arts? Both the lord and lady are so gifted!”

“The young master is really unlucky.”

“Young master even has an engagement with the young master of the Zhuang family! I heard that young master Zhuang was tested as a mage with seven magical affinities.”

…

Qi Shaorong listened to the two maids crying and gossiping and slowly curled his lips into a smile.

He tilted his head, leaned against the carriage wall, and shook his head helplessly. Why were these two women crying? Were they sympathizing with him or lamenting their own fate, having to follow an unloved young master into exile, with their futures uncertain?

Qi Shaorong let down the carriage curtain and closed his eyes.

He sighed. In his previous life, he was born into a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners. Unfortunately, during an era where Western medicine dominated, traditional Chinese medicine struggled. Later, things worsened—Western doctors could harm without consequence, while traditional Chinese doctors saved lives without recognition. Patients, often out of desperation, would turn to Chinese medicine as their last hope, and when it failed, they would curse the doctors as quacks.

His grandfather was a lifelong Chinese medicine practitioner, and watching its decline made him bitter and cynical.

From a young age, his grandfather poured immense effort into him, wanting Qi Shaorong to take on the responsibility of reviving Chinese medicine and dedicate his life to its resurgence.

At just two years old, while still drinking porridge, Qi Shaorong was forced to memorize various medical texts. Whenever a drop of porridge fell on the books, his grandfather, who couldn’t tolerate any mistakes, would hit his hand.

When other children were playing in the sand at five or six, Qi Shaorong was rolling in piles of medicinal herbs. Whenever he made a mistake with a prescription or recited the wrong medical text, his meticulous grandfather would punish him with a stern face, as if Qi Shaorong had killed a patient. Under such rigorous training, Qi Shaorong became a master of Chinese medicine by the age of sixteen.

At seventeen, Qi Shaorong disobeyed and enrolled in a Western medical school, nearly angering his grandfather to death. Qi Shaorong managed to placate him with the phrase, “Know your enemy to win a hundred battles.”

After graduation, the old man repeatedly insisted that Qi Shaorong become a Chinese medicine doctor.

However, at that time, Qi Shaorong entered a late rebellion phase. He joined a plastic surgery clinic and became a renowned plastic surgeon.

Qi Shaorong had an extraordinary talent for cosmetic surgery, crafting numerous stunning beauties. As his reputation grew, many celebrities sought his services in secret.

When his grandfather found out that he had become a plastic surgeon, he was so furious that he ended up in the hospital.

When Qi Shaorong visited his grandfather, the old man berated him for three hours straight, his face red with anger.

According to the nurse taking care of his grandfather, before Qi Shaorong’s visit, the old man had been on the verge of death. But as soon as Qi Shaorong arrived, it was as if the old man had taken a stimulant and was suddenly full of energy—a miracle, the nurse said.

After that, under the old man’s repeated threats, Qi Shaorong finally gave up the plastic surgery world. However, before he could fulfill his grandfather’s wish to become a proper Chinese medicine doctor, he founded a cosmetics brand instead, selling various beauty products.

Qi Shaorong’s cosmetics were widely praised, and his wealth skyrocketed in a short time. A major financial magazine in China even hailed him as a rising star in the business world.

But as his brand expanded, counterfeit products flooded the market.

Qi Shaorong clearly remembered the last moment of his previous life. An angry woman threw a pile of cosmetics at him, cursing him for lacking integrity, for selling inferior products that had ruined her face.

He still remembered the woman’s face, swollen and covered in sores.

In the corner of his eye, Qi Shaorong noticed that the products the woman had thrown on the ground had suspiciously different labels. She had bought counterfeit goods. This woman should have been blaming the counterfeiters, not him—he was innocent.

But before he could explain, the woman threw a bottle of sulfuric acid at him.

Qi Shaorong vaguely remembered the searing pain as the acid corroded his face and neck.

He took a deep breath. His grandfather had warned him that he would regret not becoming a Chinese medicine doctor. It seemed that his grandfather was right, but before he could regret it, he had already reincarnated.

In this life, Qi Shaorong had consciousness while still in his mother’s womb.

Before he was even born, he knew he had been reincarnated into a magical world, where magic and battle energy existed. He had also become a rich second-generation heir—his father was a marquis, and although his mother was his father’s concubine, her status was still quite respectable.

Qi Shaorong had originally thought his fortunes had turned. Unfortunately, before he could fully enjoy being a carefree young master, he was tested as a talentless waste in both magic and martial arts and was cast out.

To be reincarnated into such a fantastic world, only to end up as a useless person in both magic and martial arts—it was a bitter irony.

Still… Qi Shaorong pulled out a small mirror and gazed at his reflection. Look at that face! So handsome! If this were in his previous life, someone would have already asked him to star in a movie.