Chapter 45
Is the standard by which the lady judges people not based on gender, but on appearance?
...
After passing through several layers of curtains, Zheng Fa finally caught a glimpse of the inner room.
A couch occupied the position against the inner wall, and in the center of the room stood two low tables. On one of the tables lay two books that Zheng Fa found somewhat familiar—"Middle School Mathematics" and "Elementary School Mathematics." Beside the books was a stack of papers filled with writing.
Next to the low table sat a woman at an angle. A simple black wooden hairpin was inserted into her hair, and a few playful strands fell onto her white, wide-sleeved robe, accentuating her curvaceous figure as her clothing shifted.
Hearing Zheng Fa's footsteps, the woman did not lift her head but gestured to the empty low table beside her and said, "Please, have a seat and enjoy some tea."
Zheng Fa was taken aback; the lady looked like a young woman in her early twenties. He knelt in front of the low table and picked up the steaming teacup, taking a sip.
He was still pondering the frequent invitations he had received along the way. This did not seem like a sign of being treated as part of the Zhao family; perhaps it was a mark of respect for the powerful figure behind him.
"How is it?" she asked.
"I can't really tell," Zheng Fa replied honestly.
"No worries, I just brewed it randomly."
Finally lifting her gaze to him, the lady showed little expression and pointed to the two books, asking, "Are these for me?"
"First for the young master, then for you, madam."
"Does the order matter?"
"Very much."
A smile finally broke across the lady's face: "That's a nice sentiment, but don't send them next time."
Zheng Fa looked puzzled.
"They're a headache to look at," she said, pinching her forehead and casting a disdainful glance at the two books.
"Now, tell me, why did you give them to my foolish son?" Her posture seemed to relax a bit as she took a sip of her tea.
Zheng Fa paused for a moment before finally speaking: "I consider the young master a friend."
A hint of coldness appeared on the lady's face: "He is the young master, and you are merely a book boy. What gives you the right to claim him as a friend? Just because of that hidden Yuan Ying behind you?"
So I have a Yuan Ying behind me? This is news to me.
Zheng Fa was not intimidated by the lady's angry tone; he continued, "I am just a book boy, but I do regard the young master as a friend."
"Ha, you certainly haven't hidden that from the start."
Her tone was lightly mocking, but her expression seemed to soften a little.
Both understood each other's meaning:
Zheng Fa was expressing goodwill towards the Seventh Young Master. From the very beginning, he treated the Seventh Young Master as a friend and would not change that just because of the favor of a powerful figure.
This was something one would say to a mother.
The lady fell silent for a moment before suddenly saying, "I don't believe you, and even if I did, it wouldn't be enough."
Zheng Fa understood her meaning.
She was not just a mother; as a person of high standing in the Zhao family, she was destined to dislike things and people that were beyond her control. She would not let emotions dictate her actions, nor would she abandon her suspicions about someone based on a single statement.
She would never risk her own son.
"I heard that there are two spots for the Immortal Product Conference from the Zhao family this time?"
"Oh?"
"May I ask if I could obtain one?"
The lady looked at Zheng Fa, who not only did not pledge loyalty but also began to make demands, sitting up straight as if she were seeing him seriously for the first time.
"You are quite clever, really clever," she said with a smile, clapping her hands. "I never expected someone your age to possess such insight."
She understood Zheng Fa's underlying message: You think I can't control things and suspect my intentions? Well, let me tell you, I have a request of you, a request of the Zhao family.
This was a statement to a head of a family: You have my weakness.
The lady looked at Zheng Fa, her gaze sharp: "Now I truly believe there is an old monster behind you."
Zheng Fa was taken aback. The Seventh Young Master kept insisting that his mother surely believed there was a powerful figure behind him.
So the lady herself didn't believe it?
"Don't look at me like that; my foolish son believes everything he hears." The lady touched the stack of papers, pouting as she said, "The Xuanwei Realm is full of wonders. Who says that mastering 'Ling He Shen' must require the assistance of a Yuan Ying?"
"Is it forbidden for you to have a natural Dao body? Can you not succeed without training?"
"Perhaps you've found some immortal treasure, eaten some rare fruit, or received some mysterious inheritance?"
Zheng Fa: "..."
The lady pointed at the stack of papers filled with writing: "Do you know what this is?"
Zheng Fa shook his head.
"This is what I had someone investigate. It includes records of you from childhood to now, as well as impressions and opinions from people in your village, those in the Zhao family, your parents' friends, and the tutor who taught you for a year."
As she flipped through the records, she spoke: "Five years ago, before your father passed away, you were just ordinary, somewhat clever in your studies, but nothing exceptional."
"After your father died, you became taciturn, helping your family with work and rarely interacting with others."
"Oh, someone said you were cunning and treacherous, only flattering the young master, and that you would lead him astray in the future. They even drafted a detailed plan to corrupt my foolish son." The lady glanced down: "That person has a talent for being a sycophant—oh, Wang Gui."
Zheng Fa: "..."
"How could someone who has never left the village and rarely interacts with others have such an understanding of human nature?" The lady tossed the records aside and said, "Constitution, magical treasures, immortal fruits—none of these could grant you such insight. Unless you possess innate wisdom, or someone truly is teaching you from behind."
Zheng Fa fell silent.
"But to think you could ask me for a spot at the Zhao family's Immortal Product Conference," the lady looked at him and said, "is not going to happen."
Hearing her refusal, Zheng Fa smiled.
---
Chapter 52: Dense Stitches
Some words may sound like a rejection, but in fact, they are an agreement.
Seeing Zheng Fa smile, the lady shook her head: "Don't be too quick to smile. Although I don't know why that Yuan Ying doesn't directly take you in, I can't fathom the actions of such great figures. Even if you were to bring him out, you still wouldn't get that spot."
"Ten years ago, I gave one spot to my maternal family and the other to my own daughter. The Zhao family members were already on the verge of rebellion." For some reason, a deep mockery appeared on her face: "This time, one spot is for my foolish son, and the other can only be used to appease them. There's no way I'm giving one to a little book boy."
Zheng Fa nodded, feeling no disappointment.
His request was merely to dispel the lady's doubts.
Seeing his calm expression, the lady suddenly said, "That foolish boy's sister has returned as an inner disciple this time."
"The eldest young lady?"
"According to the rules of the Qingmu Sect, inner disciples can select two attendants from the mortal realm."
Zheng Fa began to understand the lady's meaning.
"But this isn't a free gift." She pointed at the two books on the table: "I don't care what methods you use or whether you have any methods at all; that foolish boy must enter the Immortal Gate."
"If he succeeds, you will have done nothing, and I will give you a position as an attendant."
"If he fails, you will either have to ask that Yuan Ying behind you to take you away, or you will have to work diligently for the Zhao family."
"I only care about my son; do you understand?"
"I understand."
According to the Seventh Young Master's words, he was quite confident about entering the Immortal Gate, and the lady was offering him a position as an attendant.
Suddenly, the lady said, "I actually thought about killing you."
"I know."
The lady smiled: "You don't believe me? Do you know what level of cultivation our Zhao family's ancestor had?"
"I don't know."
"Yuan Ying." The lady lifted her teacup and took a gentle sip: "Don't be afraid; he has passed on."
"What do you mean, madam?"
"Although the ancestor is gone, he left behind a formation and a magical treasure for the Zhao family. Can you guess where that treasure is?"
Zheng Fa looked up, surveying the seemingly ordinary small building.
"You are truly clever."
The lady's tone of appreciation became more evident as the teacup in her hand slowly tilted, and tea began to flow over the rim.
In an instant, the room before Zheng Fa transformed completely.
The carved beams and painted rafters above him turned into swirling stars, and the cushion beneath him became cold, damp rock, sending chills through his kneeling legs.
The low table in front of him vanished, replaced by a bottomless cliff. Zheng Fa found himself sitting at the edge of the precipice, the cold wind whipping through the chasm, making it nearly impossible for him to open his eyes.
The lady's figure had disappeared, leaving only the tea flowing from the cup, like a celestial river cascading into the gorge, transforming into a roaring waterfall, the mist crashing against him.
Amidst the fierce wind, the lady's voice, laced with coldness, echoed: "The ancestor left this magical treasure to protect the clan. Though my cultivation is low, I can withstand a Yuan Ying long enough for the great formation to activate. It is not impossible for the Qingmu Sect to come to our aid."
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