Chapter 59
Fang Meihua had not merely killed her father.
No.
That was the smallest part of the story.
She destroyed the symbol of an era in front of the emperor himself using the very sword tied to her marriage.
A public execution.
A declaration.
A warning.
A woman capable of understanding symbolism to that degree was far more dangerous than ordinary politicians.
Most rulers controlled through fear.
The truly terrifying ones controlled perception.
And according to Wei Zhi-
Meihua did both.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Wuming's fingers tapped lightly against his arm.
Her father ruled the empire for sixty years from the shadows.
That alone revealed how weak the throne must have been during that period. No emperor willingly tolerated a minister growing larger than the court itself unless removing him carried consequences greater than enduring him.
Which meant Fang Meihua did something no emperor, general, or noble faction could achieve for decades.
She solved the problem herself.
And they rewarded her for it.
Not because they admired morality.
But because usefulness was always forgiven.
Human societies never changed.
Not in a thousand years.
Not across worlds.
Only the clothes and titles became prettier.
The methods remained identical.
Fear.
Dependency.
Power.
Control.
His gaze shifted faintly toward Wei Zhi beside him.
And now the entire empire stood balanced on unstable foundations pretending stability existed.
The emperor ruled.
The crown prince gained favor.
The Xuan clan held influence.
And somewhere beneath all of it-
Everyone was waiting for someone else to make the first mistake.
Political peace was nothing more than delayed violence.
Wuming almost scoffed.
Primitive.
Yet efficient enough to survive.
A loud impact suddenly echoed across the grounds.
Weiyang stumbled backward after taking a hit directly to the shoulder, dust scattering beneath his feet. Yinghua stood opposite him breathing heavily, her pink hair slightly disheveled, her small fists still raised despite the bruises forming along her arms.
Weiyang rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Sorry," he muttered, avoiding her eyes slightly. "I think I hit too hard."
Yinghua's brows twitched immediately.
"Then stop holding back," she snapped before lunging at him again even more aggressively than before.
Weiyang's eyes widened. "Hey-wait-!"
Their fists collided again.
Lin Yi stood several meters away watching them quietly, arms folded within his sleeves, his expression unreadable beneath the shade of the tree branches overhead.
Then-
His eyes shifted.
Directly toward Wuming.
For a brief moment, neither of them looked away.
Lin Yi smiled.
Small.
Subtle.
Almost smug.
As if he had noticed something amusing.
Wuming stared back at him calmly without the slightest change in expression.
Neither friendly.
Nor hostile.
Just observation meeting observation.
A silent exchange.
Then Lin Yi looked away first, returning his attention toward Yinghua and Weiyang as if nothing had happened at all.
Wuming's eyes narrowed faintly.
Interesting man.
Too observant.
People like that were troublesome.
After a while, Wuming finally stood up from beneath the tree.
His arms stretched slowly above his head, robes shifting around his small frame as the wind passed through the training grounds. The silver-white strands of his hair lifted softly into the air, flowing around his face while the pendant resting against his chest swayed faintly before settling back against him again. Beneath the sunlight, his golden irises looked colder than before, dimmed slightly beneath half-lowered eyes that carried neither interest nor emotion.
Without even looking toward Wei Zhi, he spoke flatly,
"Get me a female cat."
Wei Zhi blinked.
Wuming continued walking already, his robes brushing lightly against the grass.
"White and black stripes," he added calmly. "Green eyes."
Wei Zhi stared at his back for a second.
"...What?"
But Wuming ignored her completely.
He simply walked across the meadow toward Lin Yi while Yinghua and Weiyang were still exchanging blows nearby, both breathing heavily now, bruised and exhausted but still refusing to give in.
Lin Yi noticed him approaching almost immediately.
His eyes shifted lazily downward toward the silver-haired child stopping directly in front of him.
Wuming looked up at him calmly.
"I want to check something at home," he said in a bored tone. "Can I go?"
The words sounded polite enough.
But inside-
Why do I even have to request permission from him?
His own thoughts mocked him immediately.
Because you're retarded, Wuming.
Even with knowledge.
Even with experience.
Even with power.
You still can't use any of it freely.
Political conflict.
Family conflict.
Clan conflict.
Everything mixed together into one disgusting knot-
And somehow you're standing exactly at the center of it.
How annoying.
Lin Yi kept looking at him silently for a few seconds before asking,
"What do you want to check at home?"
Wuming answered without hesitation.
"I left my cat inside the room."
Lin Yi raised an eyebrow slightly.
"The windows and doors were closed," Wuming continued smoothly, his expression remaining perfectly calm. "It's cold these days. I didn't even leave her wrapped properly."
A pause.
"The cat will die."
Lin Yi looked upward briefly toward the sky.
Clear.
Bright.
The weather was leaning toward winter, yes, but not nearly cold enough to kill an animal indoors.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Well," he said slowly, "it's not that cold."
Wuming looked at him blankly.
"Air," he said flatly. "She'll die from suffocation."
Silence.
Wuming internally sighed.
What a drag.
Lin Yi folded one arm across his chest while the other supported his chin, clearly thinking. His gaze lingered on Wuming for a moment longer, as though trying to decide whether the child before him was lying, stupid, or simply strange.
Probably all three.
Nearby, Weiyang suddenly shouted after getting punched directly in the face by Yinghua again.
Lin Yi ignored him completely.
Then finally-
"Okay," he said.
"You can go."
Wuming turned around immediately without another word.
No gratitude.
No smile.
Nothing.
Only the faint sound of grass shifting beneath his feet as he walked away through the meadow while the wind followed quietly behind him.
Wuming did not look back even once.
Not at Lin Yi.
Not at Wei Zhi.
Not at the training grounds behind him.
He simply walked forward through the meadow, small footsteps quiet against the grass while the wind moved endlessly around him. His silver-white hair drifted toward the right beneath the breeze, long strands lifting and falling softly against the black and white robes wrapped around his thin frame. The white bandages covering his hands shifted slightly with every movement, the fabric fluttering faintly like worn ribbons against pale skin.
Under the afternoon light-
He looked strangely majestic.
Too composed.
Too distant.
Like something that did not belong among ordinary children.
Wei Zhi remained leaning against the tree, one knee raised while her head rested lazily against the bark, green eyes following Wuming's retreating figure as it slowly disappeared further across the field.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then quietly-
"I wonder if you'll get your answer."
The wind passed gently through the branches above her.
Her gaze remained fixed ahead.
"After all..."
A faint smile touched her lips, though it carried no amusement.
"Blood is thicker than water."
When Wuming was nearly fifty feet away from the training grounds, his steps suddenly stopped.
The wind moved softly through the meadow.
Behind him, the sounds of Yinghua and Weiyang fighting had already faded into the distance.
For a brief second-
Everything became still.
Wuming slowly lifted his gaze toward the sky above.
Then-
He disappeared.
No sound.
No disturbance.
Only the grass beneath him bending slightly from the force left behind.
High above the forest, a small figure appeared standing in the air itself, robes fluttering violently against the rushing currents. His silver-white hair streamed behind him beneath the open sky while the sword beneath his feet carried him forward effortlessly.
One hand rested behind his back.
The other lifted before him.
Middle and forefinger extended together.
The remaining fingers curled inward into a fist.
His golden eyes narrowed slightly.
"Space Restriction," he said calmly.
A pause.
"Level One."
The air distorted.
Not violently-
Quietly.
Like reality itself folded around him.
The next second-
Wuming vanished again.
The speed was monstrous.
The clouds split apart as his body surged through the sky like a streak of pale lightning crossing the heavens, his robes snapping sharply against the wind. Mountains blurred beneath him. Rivers disappeared in seconds. Entire villages became nothing but shadows beneath the clouds as he crossed the empire at terrifying speed.
His expression remained indifferent.
Cold.
Detached.
From above, the empire looked small.
Pathetic.
The capital stood far in the distance beneath layers of mist and towering walls while countless territories spread beyond it like scattered pieces on a chessboard.
And far away from all of it-
Deep within endless forests-
The Wuming estate rested in isolation.
Hidden.
Silent.
Watching over the empire from afar like a beast sleeping beneath darkness.
Wuming's eyes settled on it immediately.
Then-
He moved again.
Faster.
The sword beneath him shrieked through the sky as his body blurred forward, speed approaching something dangerously close to lightning itself.
And then-
He noticed them.
Far below.
Two figures walking through the forest paths.
Wuming's eyes narrowed slightly.
Their clothes were strange.
Dark green robes.
Black layered garments beneath them.
And over everything-
Large black capes embroidered with deep forest-green bamboo patterns flowing across the fabric like shadows stretching through darkness.
The first man walked calmly beneath the trees.
Tall.
Young.
His black hair rested loose around his shoulders, strands falling over his face while the cape concealed most of his body.
The second walked beside him dressed nearly identically.
For a moment, Wuming simply passed above them-
Then suddenly stopped midair.
The sword beneath him steadied instantly.
His body drifted backward slightly.
Interested.
His golden eyes focused downward from nearly eight miles above the ground.
No one should have sensed him.
Not here.
Not with his presence concealed to absolute zero.
And yet-
The first man stopped walking.
Slowly-
A pale hand emerged from beneath the black cape.
Two fingers lifted calmly toward the edge of the bamboo hat resting over his head.
Then-
He removed it.
Slowly.
His head remained lowered at first.
Dark hair slid across pale skin while the wind moved through the forest below.
And then-
The man looked upward.
Directly at Wuming.
From the ground.
Across thirteen kilometers of distance.
Straight into his eyes.
Dark green irises.
Cold.
Sharp.
Almost identical to Wei Zhi's.
Even the structure of his face resembled hers slightly-the pale skin, faintly red lips, the detached expression that carried no warmth whatsoever.
His loose black hair shifted softly before he brushed several strands away from his face with one hand exactly like a nobleman unconcerned by the world around him.
Wuming stared silently.
Then-
He smiled.
No.
It was closer to a smirk.
A genuine one.
Interested.
Because for the first time since arriving in this empire-
Someone had looked back at him.
The man saw him.
Wuming's sword slowed slightly beneath the clouds as his golden eyes remained fixed on the figure standing deep within the forest below. The distance between them should have made recognition impossible, yet the moment their gazes met, Wuming understood immediately-
This was not coincidence.
His robes fluttered violently around him while cold wind swept across the sky, silver-white hair drifting behind his back like flowing moonlight.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
The man's attire was... unusual.
Dark green robes layered beneath heavy black fabric, hidden partially beneath a long cape embroidered with deep green bamboo patterns spreading across it like shadows within a forest. The cape itself moved slowly with the wind, concealing most of his frame and presence.
A noble?
No.
Not merely noble.
Royalty perhaps.
Or something close enough to it.
Wuming observed silently from above while the second man standing beside him remained completely unaware of his existence. The man never once looked upward. Never reacted. Never sensed anything strange in the heavens above him.
Which was normal.
It should have been impossible to notice Wuming.
End of 59