Chapter 52

Zheng Fa followed Wu the steward to the small pavilion where Lady resided in seclusion.

In days past, this two-story pavilion often echoed with the sounds of string and wind instruments, drawing passersby to pause. But today, the pavilion was silent, as if deliberately waiting for him.

Drawing on what he had seen and heard since entering the mansion, Zheng Fa pieced together an image of Lady in his mind.

She rarely stepped outside her pavilion, even disliked servants disturbing her with trivial matters, yet over twenty years she had held the entire Zhao mansion in her palm, until the household knew only Lady, not Master Zhao.

She had raised a son who was naive yet foul-mouthed—a boy clearly unfit to be head of the household. Yet even ignoring the Zhao family's countless collateral branches spanning a millennium, or the numerous illegitimate sons Master Zhao kept in the front courtyard, not one dared claim the future position of heir over Seventh Young Master.

If Zheng Fa had to describe his impression of Lady in one sentence, it would be this—those skilled in battle leave no glorious merit.

"Lady has been in poor spirits lately," Wu the steward whispered ahead of him.

Zheng Fa looked up, gazing at Wu the steward's back.

Wu the steward spoke as if to himself: "But these past two days, her mood seems to have improved slightly."

Zheng Fa softly expressed his gratitude: "Thank you for the warning, Wu steward."

A woman who craved absolute control over power and fiercely protected her son—how could her mood be good when a man like Zheng Fa, uncontrollable and dangerous, appeared beside her son?

In Zheng Fa's estimation, Lady's reaction to his mastery of the Spirit Crane Body would fall into one of several possibilities:

See him as a threat and kill him—but face possible retaliation from the powerful being behind him.

Fear the powerful being behind him and ignore him—for a woman like Lady, this was the most intolerable scenario.

Based on Zheng Fa's current understanding, he believed Lady's most likely course would be to pretend to ignore him.

But gradually isolate her son from Zheng Fa, and secretly observe him.

Cease providing Zheng Fa with any resources, and remain vigilant toward every move he made.

Until one day, Zheng Fa's true nature—lacking any powerful backer—was exposed, and then he would be at her mercy.

Without presenting the Elementary Mathematics book, Zheng Fa believed he would gain a brief period of stability, even fleeting prestige within the Zhao mansion, before meeting his end without a grave.

"Lady dislikes men. She speaks to us only through layers of curtains, and even then, she refuses to say much." Wu the steward now turned his head, earnestly warning Zheng Fa: "Do not let your eyes wander, or you will anger her."

Zheng Fa nodded, following Wu the steward up the stairs.

The second floor was still shrouded in layers of curtains; only a faint, indistinct human silhouette could be seen within.

A maid stood at the foot of the second-floor stairs. Seeing them, she spoke: "Lady requests Zheng Fa."

"What about me?" Wu the steward stared blankly as Zheng Fa lifted the curtain and stepped inside, unable to help asking.

"You?" The maid glanced at him. "Are you that idle?"

Wu the steward touched his face, unable to suppress a disrespectful thought:

Could Lady's standard for seeing people not be gender, but face?

…

Passing through several layers of curtains, Zheng Fa finally saw the interior.

A low bed occupied the inner wall; in the center of the room stood two short tables. One table held two books Zheng Fa recognized—the Elementary Mathematics and the Junior High Mathematics—alongside a stack of paper covered in writing.

Beside the table sat a woman, reclining. A simple black wooden hairpin adorned her head; a few rebellious strands of hair fell onto her white wide-sleeved robe, their movement tracing the curves of her full, graceful figure.

Hearing Zheng Fa's footsteps, the woman did not look up. She pointed to the other empty table. "Sit. Drink tea."

Zheng Fa had not expected Lady to appear as a young woman barely twenty. He knelt before the table and lifted the steaming teacup, taking a sip.

He pondered the frequent use of "please" during his walk here—it did not feel like treating him as Zhao family. Perhaps it reflected a degree of respect for the powerful being he was believed to have behind him.

"How is it?"

"I can't tell." Zheng Fa answered honestly.

"No matter. I brew it blindly."

Lady finally lifted her eyes to him, expressionless. She pointed to the two books. "For me?"

"First for Young Master. Then for you."

"Does the order matter?"

"It matters greatly."

Lady finally smiled. "Your intent is kind. But don't send them again."

Zheng Fa looked puzzled.

"Gives me a headache," Lady pinched her temple, glancing sideways at the books with clear distaste.

"Tell me—why did you give those to my foolish son?" Her posture relaxed further as she sipped her own tea.

Zheng Fa fell silent, then spoke: "I regard Young Master as a friend."

Lady's face grew cold. "He is Young Master. You are a book attendant. How dare you claim him as your friend? Because of the Nascent Soul behind you, who dares not show his face?"

So I supposedly have a Nascent Soul behind me? I just learned that too.

Zheng Fa was not frightened by Lady's anger. He continued: "Even if I am only a book attendant, I still regard Young Master as a friend."

"Hah. You never concealed it from the start."

Lady's tone held mockery, yet her expression softened slightly.

Both understood each other's meaning:

Zheng Fa expressed his goodwill toward Seventh Young Master. From the beginning, his attitude toward the boy had been that of a friend—unchanged even by the favor of a powerful being.

This was a statement meant for a mother.

Lady fell silent for a moment, then said: "I do not believe it. Even if I did, it would not be enough."

Zheng Fa understood Lady's meaning.

She was not merely a mother. As the supreme figure of the Zhao mansion, she naturally distrusted anything beyond her control. She would not let emotion override judgment, nor abandon suspicion based on a single sentence.

Nor would she risk her son.

"I heard the Immortal-Grade Gathering grants the Zhao mansion two slots?"

"Oh?"

"I wonder if I can get one."

Lady sat upright, regarding Zheng Fa as if seeing him for the first time, not showing loyalty but making demands.

"You're clever—truly clever," Lady clapped her hands and laughed. "I never expected someone so young to possess such insight."

She understood Zheng Fa's implication: You think I cannot control you, fear I harbor ill intent—then let me tell you, I am seeking your help, seeking the Zhao household's aid.

This was telling a household lord: You hold my weakness.

Lady regarded Zheng Fa, her gaze sharp: "Now I truly believe you have an old monster behind you."

Zheng Fa blinked—Young Master Qi had repeatedly claimed his mother was certain Zheng Fa had a great cultivator behind him.

So Lady herself didn't believe it?

"Don't look at me like that—my foolish son believes anything he hears," Lady touched the stack of papers and sneered. "The Xuanwei Realm holds all manner of wonders—who says mastering the Spirit Crane Body must require aid from a Nascent Soul True Person?"

"Could you not be born with a Dao Body? Could you not achieve it without training?"

"Perhaps you found some immortal-grade treasure, ate a rare divine fruit, or received some mysterious transmission?"

Zheng Fa: "..."

Lady pointed to the stack of papers covered in writing: "Do you know what this is?"

Zheng Fa shook his head.

"These are records I had people gather—your life from childhood to now, including impressions and opinions of those from your village, the household, your parents' friends, even your one-year tutor."

As she flipped through the records, Lady said: "Five years ago, before your father's death, you were ordinary—slightly clever in your studies, but nothing extraordinary."

"After your father's death, you became silent and withdrawn, only helping with household chores, avoiding all social contact."

"Oh, someone claimed you were sly and deceitful, merely fawning on the young master, destined to lead him astray—he even drafted a detailed plan for corrupting my foolish son." Lady glanced down: "This fellow has real talent as a sycophant—oh, Wang Gui."

Zheng Fa: "..."

"How could someone who never left his village, rarely interacted with others, possess such understanding of human nature?" Lady tossed the records aside. "Body type, artifacts, divine fruits—they cannot grant you such insight. Either you possess past-life wisdom, or someone truly teaches you from behind."

Zheng Fa remained silent.

"But to demand a spot in my Zhao household's immortal-grade roster with just one sentence," Lady looked at him, "no."

Hearing Lady's refusal, Zheng Fa smiled.