Chapter 5: Do My Hair and You Have a Grudge?

From the very first glance at Ye Kun, there was a sense that this child was anything but ordinary—otherwise, he would not have been cherished so deeply. Yet, this monk came with the intention to leave as soon as he arrived; his motives were clearly suspect.

Master Pureheart regarded Dongmen Meng with a gentle smile, though other thoughts played behind his eyes. Truly worthy of the Dongmen family name—her scheming was beyond the reach of most, and he felt a twinge of regret. This child, though frail in appearance, seemed somehow able to peer into his very soul. Such a gaze on one so young was no common thing.

Ye Ming noticed his wife's expression had darkened and quickly shot her a glance—no matter what, the man was a master and deserved some respect. But Dongmen Meng was nothing if not headstrong. She usually seemed gentle and refined, but when stubbornness struck, it was formidable indeed. Thus, Ye Kun had long since defined his stepmother as ruthless and terse.

"Master, are you cursing my child?" she asked.

Ye Ming winced—so she went straight for the confrontation, offering not even a sliver of courtesy.

Master Pureheart was clearly no stranger to the women of the Dongmen clan—none of them were reasonable in the least. That surname, Dongmen, was always cause for caution.

"Madam, you misunderstand this humble monk," he replied.

"Then, Master, were you lying to me just now?"

The room fell instantly silent. To reason with Madam was to seek one’s own undoing.

Master Pureheart’s face stiffened. After all, he was a master—couldn’t they show him a bit of respect?

Ye Kun was in awe of his stepmother—she was leagues ahead of his father. With someone like her to shield him, life felt unusually secure. In the future, he could stride out and call, "Do you know who my mother is?"

Ye Ming hurried to smooth things over—if things soured, it would hardly do. Besides, Master Pureheart had come as a favor to him.

"Master, look at my son—do you have any other ideas? We’ve tried every remedy, to no avail."

Master Pureheart saw there was no hope but felt obliged to try something for the sake of Ye Ming’s face. "This child's hair is thick and vibrant; gold thrives with fire and becomes a vessel. Gold conquers wood; with much wood and little gold, the wood is weak before gold and must be trimmed."

The first part left Ye Kun utterly bewildered, but he clearly understood the last four words.

Damn it, you want to shave my head!

What did my hair ever do to you, monk? Are you so jealous of a full head of hair that you concoct nonsense to make others bald?

Mother, don’t believe him—he’s a fraud!

He just can’t win me over, so he wants me to end up bald like him!

I’m in perfect health—thick hair is a sign of vitality.

But then he saw his stepmother actually considering it—a distinctly bad sign.

Ye Ming gave the master a puzzled look. He remembered that years ago, he too had been told to shave his head, and the more he shaved, the rounder his face became. Once a narrow chin, he ended up with a square jaw and even sideburns.

Master Pureheart caught Ye Ming’s gaze. "Trust me, it will work."

Trust you? You old codger, you’re nothing but trouble.

There was no way out—Ye Kun could only make a scene. He didn’t want to lose his hair at such a young age! Did none of them have a shred of conscience...?

As Ye Kun wailed, Master Pureheart chuckled softly. "See? The child resists. That proves it will help."

Damn it!

Let me shave your head and see how you like it.

Dongmen Meng knew the master was serious—his reasoning had made some sense. It wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.

"Madam, the child is young—remember to keep it up for ten years," the master advised.

Ye Kun collapsed in Dongmen Meng’s arms, sobbing. I’ll remember you, Master Pureheart! Even if you wear a wig, I’ll still recognize you!

Master Pureheart departed as swiftly as he had arrived. Fortunately, no one in Taixi County recognized him. Had they known and seen him enter the Ye household, the very threshold would have been worn away by visitors.

When Ye Kun awoke again, the first thing he saw was his stepmother, her eyes as gentle as water.

Wait—something didn’t feel right. There was a chill on his crown.

His hair!

His precious hair—gone!

He turned to look at his stepfather, who still held a small knife, his own hair clinging to its edge.

And his little brother seemed to be laughing at him.

This must be a dream. Let me calm down—none of this is real.

"Meng’er, I must say, Kun Kun looks quite handsome without hair," Ye Ming said with a light laugh.

Dongmen Meng agreed, her voice soft. "As long as Kun Kun gets better, that’s all that matters. This child has suffered so much since birth—it truly breaks my heart."

I haven’t suffered at all—you’re all imagining things.

A few months passed.

Ye Kun seemed to have come to terms with this dreadful reality. Now, every morning, the day began with his stepmother shaving his head.

He had once been a happy and carefree child. Now, he seemed almost withdrawn.

Well, it was only ten years. Endure it, and it would pass—no big deal.

Still, the monk’s method had some effect. Where once he had been worryingly thin, now he looked much healthier—at least up to the standard of good health.

No one would say this child was doomed any longer.

Time flew by—five years passed in a blink.

Kun Kun was now six years old—time to make his debut.

But Ye Kun noticed something unusual. It was hard to describe, but whenever something bad was about to happen to him, it would suddenly turn out fine.

For example, just last night at dinner.

He simply didn’t want to eat the steamed yellow croaker. For no particular reason, he just didn’t want it. But his mother found that odd and decided to check the fish.

What a shock—the fish was poisoned, and with a deadly toxin at that!

And that was just the latest incident. Over the past few years, there had been others, which was why his mother had become so vigilant.

It could be said that Kun Kun was now the family’s lucky star—his mother practically praised him to the skies.

Even her own son didn’t receive such affection.

Fortunately, Kun Kun consoled his little brother in private—he didn’t want to foster jealousy.

"Brother, are we sneaking out to play today?" Ye Qin, who had inherited Dongmen Meng’s looks, was a striking child—so handsome that even Kun Kun felt a twinge of envy. If only he still had hair, he might have stood a chance, but bald as he was, he was no match.

Still, his little brother’s attitude was commendable, proof that years of influence had paid off.

Bald-headed, Ye Kun looked melancholy and replied, "Little brother, Mother said we’re not allowed to go out. There are too many bad people outside."

Ye Qin furrowed his delicate brows.

Ye Kun sneaked a glance at him, then continued, "If Mother finds out I took you out to play, she’ll definitely punish me. Would you really want to see your brother get a smack on the hand?"

"Just tell her it was my idea," Ye Qin offered.

"Ah, that won’t do, little brother. You can’t say that," Ye Kun quickly objected, acting every bit the well-behaved child.