"Really, son? You're strong enough to overpower and beat up street thugs?"

A family of five sat around a warm stove, where an elderly woman enthusiastically recounted to her ignorant son and daughter-in-law the glorious deeds her grandson had accomplished in the county over the past six months.

The couple, who were listening intently to their son's glorious achievements over the past six months, had disbelief written all over their faces. The woman, whose clothes were still patched, hugged Feng Bingwen and couldn't help but take the opportunity to ruffle his hair.

"In Qingshan County, no one can rival me!"

Feeling the strange sensation in his head, Feng Bingwen stated this undeniable fact. However, as soon as he finished speaking, all four adults in the room burst into laughter, and the room was instantly filled with a joyful atmosphere.

"Wow, my son is actually a martial arts master!"

Feng Zichuan spoke jokingly, clearly not believing the exaggerated things his elderly mother said.

"Xiao Wenzi, why don't you arm wrestle with your dad and see who's stronger?"

Yu Huilian, who had never seen anything extraordinary about her son before, encouraged him and her husband to return home. Once they were relaxed, they were more cheerful and lively than usual.

"How about it, Xiao Wenzi? Want to have a match with me?"

Feng Zichuan, also in a relaxed mood, stretched out his broad palm, wanting to test his son's current strength. He didn't take his mother's words seriously.

"Don't try, you'll get hurt by me."

Feng Bingwen shook his head. Then, under the smiling eyes of his parents, he bent down and picked up a piece of cast iron fire tongs that was placed next to the brazier. He reached out and grasped the handle of the fire tongs, and tightened his grip slightly.

When he released his hand again, the hall, which had been filled with laughter, fell silent. Only the crackling sound of the firewood burning in the brazier could be heard, creating a profound stillness where even breathing could be heard.

"Really?!"

Feng Zichuan's eyes widened as he took the fire tongs from his son's hands. He saw that the handles of the tongs were deformed and twisted together.

The slightly overweight young man couldn't resist trying it himself, but found that he couldn't separate the fused handles at all, and could only slightly deform them.

"Little Wen'er, I didn't know you were so strong. Why didn't you tell me before?"

Yu Huilian stared at the deformed fire tongs in her husband's hand for a few moments, then smiled and released her arms from her son.

"I became stronger after eating the fruit, I wasn't this strong to begin with."

Feng Bingwen was lying through his teeth. He would blame any unusual behavior on the purple-tailed sparrow, since the bird couldn't speak anyway.

"What kind of fruit is that? It's so amazing, are there any more?"

After several attempts, I still couldn't get Feng Zichuan interested in deforming the cast iron like my own son had.

"Those were small fruits that emitted a red glow. I ate them all at once, leaving none behind."

Feng Bingwen shook his head, while his grandmother, who was standing nearby, became interested and told her son and daughter-in-law the story she had heard in the county town, embellishing it with her own words.

The story of Feng Bingwen gaining divine power because of the spirit bird's gratitude is a well-known tale in the county, widely circulated, but only within the territory of Qingshan County, and has not yet spread to other areas.

"Such a good thing?"

Feng Zichuan's eyes lit up when he heard this.

"Then I'll go catch sparrows tomorrow too."

"Are you stupid? Xiao Wen'er released a spirit bird back then. Where can you find such a spirit bird among ordinary sparrows?"

Yu Huilian slapped her husband in annoyance. But there was a strange glint in her eyes, as if she was thinking about something.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Just then, a soft, rhythmic knock sounded at the door, followed by a clear, melodious voice, like the song of a nightingale.

"Excuse me, is anyone home?"

"It's almost Chinese New Year, who could it be?"

As the eldest son in the family and the only adult man in the house, Feng Zichuan stood up without hesitation and walked towards the door, causing Feng Bingwen, who had just gotten up, to shake his head and sit down helplessly.

Creak!

The heavy, sturdy wooden door was pulled open, accompanied by a sour sound. A graceful young woman appeared before Feng Zichuan, carrying a food box in one hand and holding the hand of a beautiful little girl in the other.

Who are you?

Looking at the mother and daughter, one big and one small, who were quite pleasing to the eye, Feng Zichuan searched his mind but couldn't find a suitable match and asked.

Did you knock on the wrong door?

"I didn't come to the wrong place, this is the place."

Wen Huashang looked at the burly young man in front of her, blinked, and roughly guessed the identity of the person in front of her.

"No, I..."

Upon hearing this answer, Feng Zichuan felt a chill run down his spine, as if a tigress was lying behind him, ready to pounce.

But before he could say anything, he felt an irresistible force behind him push him away. When he turned his head, he saw that it was his only son.

"Father, Sister Wen came to see me."

"Looking for you?"

Feng Zichuan was taken aback, then breathed a sigh of relief, as the chilling aura that had gripped him from behind dissipated, replaced by a gentle warmth. However, a nameless regret lingered in his heart.

"You are Bingwen's father, I pay my respects."

Wen Huashang looked at the man who had stepped back, and with a dignified and generous smile on her face, she curtsied.

"Oh, no need for formalities. Why don't you come in and have a seat?"

After glancing at his son, who had very naturally taken the food box from the beautiful woman's hands, Feng Zichuan stepped aside and hurriedly greeted him.

"Then I'll take my leave!"

Wen Huashang showed no fear at all. She led the beautiful, adorable little girl, who looked around with great spirit, into the Feng family's old house.

"Greetings, Mr. Feng; greetings, Madam Feng!"

After entering the house, Wen Huashang politely bowed to the two elderly people without overstepping his bounds. Then he looked at the woman sitting by the brazier, who was smiling and looking him over.

"Greetings, Madam Feng!"

Upon seeing the woman's gaze, Wen Huashang's heart skipped a beat, as if her thoughts had been read.

"Hey, judging from your appearance, I should be a few years older than you. Logically speaking, I should call you 'little sister,' but my son calls you 'older sister.' If we do that, it will mess up the generational order. May I ask what you do? So that I can address you appropriately?"

Yu Huilian glanced at her son, then looked the beautiful young woman up and down, and used the pretext of addressing her to inquire about her background.

"I run a small pastry shop in the county that barely makes ends meet."

Wen Huashang answered calmly, without any panic. She dared to come at this time because she was well-prepared.

"So it's Manager Wen. How come you're so young and already running your own shop? Where's your husband?"

"He has passed away!"

"Feel sorry!"