Chapter 53: Sewn Tightly

Some words sound like rejection, but are actually agreement.

Watching Zheng Fa smile, the Lady shook her head: “Don’t smile yet. Though I don’t know why that Nascent Soul True Person didn’t simply take you in, I can’t fathom the ways of such great figures—but even if you truly summoned him, this spot would never go to you.”

“Ten years ago, I gave one spot to my natal family, another to my own daughter—and even then, those Zhao family members nearly revolted.” A deep sneer appeared on the Lady’s face for reasons unknown: “This time, with two spots, one is for my foolish son, the other must be used to appease them—never for a mere bookboy like you.”

Zheng Fa nodded, feeling no disappointment.

He raised the request only to dispel the Lady’s suspicions.

Seeing his calm expression, the Lady suddenly said: “That foolish boy’s sister returned this time as an inner sect disciple.”

“The eldest miss?”

“According to the Green Wood Sect’s rules, inner sect disciples may select two attendants from the mortal world.”

Zheng Fa began to understand the Lady’s meaning.

“But this isn’t freely given.” The Lady pointed to the two books on the table: “I don’t care how you do it, or whether you even have a way—my foolish son must ascend the Dengxianmen.”

“If he enters, even if you did nothing, I’ll still give you an attendant’s position.”

“If he fails, either beg your mysterious Nascent Soul True Person to take you away, or serve the Zhao family well.”

“I care only for my own son. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

According to the Seventh Young Master’s words, he had full confidence in ascending the Dengxianmen—the Lady had just granted him an attendant’s spot.

The Lady suddenly spoke: “I actually considered killing you.”

“I know.”

The Lady smiled: “You don’t believe me? Do you know what cultivation level our Zhao ancestors achieved?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nascent Soul.” The Lady lifted her teacup, sipping slowly: “Don’t fear—he passed away peacefully.”

“What do you mean?”

“Though my ancestor is gone, he left behind a formation and a magic treasure. Guess where that treasure is?”

Zheng Fa looked up, scanning the seemingly ordinary little tower.

“You’re very clever.”

The Lady’s praise grew more evident; her teacup tilted slowly, tea dripping gently from its rim.

In an instant, the room before Zheng Fa transformed utterly.

The carved beams and painted rafters above became swirling stars; the cushion beneath him turned into cold, damp rock, sending a chill through his kneeling legs.

The low table before him vanished, replaced by a bottomless cliff—Zheng Fa sat at its edge, cold wind tugging at his robes, nearly blinding him.

The Lady’s figure was gone; only the tea pouring from the cup remained, like a celestial river cascading into a gorge, becoming a roaring waterfall, its mist and thunder crashing against his face.

Through the biting wind came the Lady’s cold voice: “My ancestor left this treasure to protect our clan. Though my cultivation is low, I could hold off a Nascent Soul True Person long enough for the great formation to activate and for the Green Wood Sect to send aid.”

“I’m genuinely curious—would that Nascent Soul True Person fight the Green Wood Sect for a mortal who hasn’t even reached Qi Refining?”

Only then did Zheng Fa understand why the Lady had ruled the Zhao family for twenty years without opposition—she was a cultivator!

The Zhao family claimed they had immortal blood in every generation, yet Zheng Fa had never seen a single true cultivator—until now, he realized it was her.

In another blink, the scene before him returned to its original state.

The warm, dry cushion, the steaming tea, the Lady smiling lazily at him—as if the previous moments had been nothing but a dream.

“Do you know when I decided not to kill you?”

“When?”

“The one sentence I never believed.”

Zheng Fa immediately knew which line she meant—I regard the Young Master as a friend.

A flicker of disgust crossed the Lady’s face, as if the words were hard to utter: “This morning, a fool came running over, crying his eyes out, telling me the exact same thing.”

The curtain in the corner stirred slightly.

Neither Zheng Fa nor the Lady acted as if they had noticed.

“That fool—when he should be clever, he’s clueless; but when he shouldn’t be, he sees clearly…”

Zheng Fa silently gazed at the tea before him; its steam rose warmly, as if about to flow into his heart through his eyes.

“Last time, I sent his sister away from him—he didn’t speak to me for ten years.” The Lady shook her head, weary: “As his mother, I don’t want my son to hate and avoid me for the rest of his life. Do you understand?”

Zheng Fa nodded: “Parents always lose to their children.”

“I never believe what people say—I only watch what they do.” The Lady fixed her gaze on Zheng Fa’s face: “Especially not men’s words.”

“But for the sake of that fool, I’m willing to believe you once—don’t let me down.”

Zheng Fa rose, bowed deeply, and repeated: “I regard the Young Master as a friend.”

“I hope you mean it. Go now.”

Watching Zheng Fa slowly descend the stairs, the Seventh Young Master emerged from the curtain, puzzled: “Mother, you really planned to use the family treasure to kill him?”

The Lady rolled her eyes: “I was just scaring him.”

“Scaring?”

“Help me up.”

“Mother?”

“With my level of cultivation, even moving this treasure slightly would cost me half my life. To stand against a Nascent Soul? Do you think I’d live long enough for him to even raise a hand?”

Leaning back on the couch, pale-faced, the Lady suddenly spoke: “Fan’er?”

“Hmm?” The Seventh Young Master stared blankly at his mother, seeing her watching him intently.

“Do you know why I met him and gave him this attendant spot?”

“Those two books?”

“Yes and no. Two months from now, you’ll ascend the Dengxianmen.” The Lady stroked her child’s head, revealing rare softness and reluctance: “The Immortal Gate isn’t paradise. He’s talented—I hope you’ll have an ally someday. If he ever helps you even once, I’ll allow him.”

“Mother.”

“Given your nature, I never wanted to send you to the Immortal Gate.”

The Seventh Young Master lowered his head in silence.

“Zheng Fa is right—parents always lose to their children.” The Lady didn’t anger; she gazed tenderly, greedily at her son: “The Immortal Gate is far away. Soon, I won’t be able to protect you anymore. All I can do is this.”

…

Outside the little tower, Chief Wu waited for him; the two walked side by side.

Did the Lady want to kill him?

Zheng Fa neither believed nor disbelieved.

The Lady had brought the Seventh Young Master to the tower—she had indeed prepared for the worst.

But…

As the Lady said, what was a lowly bookboy like him, someone who hadn’t even reached Qi Refining, worth to the Zhao family in provoking a Nascent Soul?

This threat was likely meant only to remind him of the Seventh Young Master’s friendship—to show him the favor granted.

Thinking of this, Zheng Fa gave a faint, self-deprecating smile.

Who would have thought that having no value could be an advantage?

“Zheng Fa, when I first saw you, I never imagined you’d reach this point.” Seeing his smile, Chief Wu spoke with envy: “The Young Master values you, the Lady treats you differently—in twenty years, I’ve never seen any man enter the curtain.”

“The Young Master treats me very well, and the Lady is kind too.” Zheng Fa nodded slowly.

I don’t resent the Lady’s aloofness or her suspicion.

I simply dislike a world where survival demands endless scheming.

He looked at Chief Wu’s face—the man’s expression held a hint of familiarity; from their first meeting, he had wanted to befriend Zheng Fa, and now his demeanor carried even more flattery.

He pointed to the distant courtyard wall and asked Chief Wu: “Chief Wu, once you ascend the Dengxianmen, can you leap over this Zhao family wall?”

“Ascend the Dengxianmen? The wall?” Chief Wu blinked, staring at Zheng Fa strangely, as if he were foolish: “Once you ascend the Dengxianmen, you become immortal. Not just the wall—even towering mountains become flat ground. You can go anywhere, fearless, free—true great freedom.”

“Yes. Ascend the Dengxianmen—fearless, free—true great freedom.”

…

Modern day, classroom.

Wang Chen stared at Zheng Fa’s face: “Zheng Fa, didn’t sleep well again? Watching videos again?”

Zheng Fa smiled and shook his head: “No. Had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare? What did you dream?”

“I dreamed of a… not-so-pleasant world.”

Wang Chen tilted his head, frowning thoughtfully: “I think no world is worse than the one where we have a monthly exam tomorrow.”