Chapter 58
"No one dared question her… because her father had ruled the empire for sixty years, since the age of eighteen, controlling generals, corrupting the court, bending everything to his will until the entire empire depended on one man, and the day she killed him… the empire was freed from him," a pause, quieter now, "From his selfish desires,"
She looked ahead for a second before continuing, "She wasn't even defamed for killing her own father… because by then she was already the Lady of the Xuan clan," a faint, almost bitter smile touching her lips, "I must say… she inherited his traits perfectly," then firmer, "Everything was part of her plan. She's a cunning fox… not easily tamed," her eyes flickered back to Wuming, "That's why the Clan Master never let you near her… and her near you—not that he could truly keep you apart… you both are destined to be enemies,"
Wuming absorbed every word without interruption, his expression unchanged as he spoke calmly, "So the empire is in the hands of useless people?" Wei Zhi shook her head immediately, "No. Right now, your maternal grandfather—the emperor—is ruling the empire, keeping it balanced and in harmony, and the crown prince, Yin Jiuheng, is also a competent general… and the rightful heir," her tone softening slightly, "things weren't always like this. Lady Yin Fu put in a lot of effort… she trained him, changed him—from a useless prince into someone the people actually respect," a brief pause before she added, "Right now, the Twin Dragon Kingdom is the strongest—it has the best strategists, generals, and clans backing it," Wuming's gaze shifted slightly, "And the current prime minister?" Wei Zhi smiled faintly, almost amused, "He's just a pawn… but don't underestimate him. He's from the Youshe tribe… a fox, just like the way he carries himself," she added, "Zhou Yi," and Wuming's voice followed, quiet but sharp, "Whose pawn is he?" Wei Zhi met his eyes directly, "Your stepmother's… Lady Meihua's," the words settling heavily between them as she continued, "Right now, the entire empire is under the Xuan clan's shadow… and everyone wants you dead too. Whether it's your own family or strangers… it doesn't matter," her tone turning quieter, almost reflective, "Power makes everything unfamiliar,"
Wuming's expression didn't change as he said calmly, "That's why no one likes her… because no one understands her," Wei Zhi gave a small shrug, "Well… yeah. There are a lot of people who want her dead too. She's a monster," Wuming's gaze shifted slightly, "Just because she killed her father?" Wei Zhi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head, a faint smirk forming, "You're so naive, Wuming," she leaned back slightly, "What I told you… that's not even a fraction of Fang Meihua," her eyes sharpening, "She's an enigma… the meanest woman you'll ever see," a brief pause before she added quietly, "You can look at her… but you'll never feel what she did… what she went through,"
Wuming's voice came steadily, "How can you say that?" Wei Zhi smiled faintly, her tone calm, almost distant, "I'm a soul reaper… I see souls. I know what kind of human someone is," her gaze drifting ahead, "I've seen many humans… but almost no humanity," then, softer, almost thoughtful, "And guess what… I found humanity in the most unexpected place,"
Wuming watched her silently, his eyes calm, but inside, his thoughts remained detached, cold, almost dismissive—what a naïve girl… comparing her perception to mine… a mere human who has only lived a few years of her life… delusional.
Wuming said nothing after that.
His gaze shifted away from Wei Zhi and toward the open training grounds where dust still drifted faintly through the air from the earlier clash. Yinghua and Weiyang were still fighting, both having already discarded their weapons under Lin Yi's orders. The veranda umbrella and fan lay tossed near the edge of the field while Weiyang's spear rested half-buried into the ground, the lingering traces of wind qi still faintly humming around the metal.
Now it was only Tai Quan.
Fists.
Movement.
Control.
No formations.
No external mastery.
Weiyang lunged first, his movements explosive despite his age, his punches carrying sharp momentum as if the wind still lingered within his bones even after suppressing his qi. Yinghua stepped aside quickly, her smaller frame twisting lightly, redirecting his strike with the edge of her forearm before retaliating with a clean strike toward his ribs. Their movements were fast—far too fast for normal seven-year-old children—yet to Wuming's eyes, everything unfolded with uncomfortable clarity.
Predictable.
Every stance.
Every shift of weight.
Every reaction.
His gaze followed their feet first rather than their fists.
The center of gravity.
Hip rotation.
Shoulder tension.
Breathing rhythm.
Just according to the combat texts recorded within the archives.
The tables of movement matched almost perfectly.
Weiyang favored aggressive forward pressure whenever his attacks were redirected. Yinghua instinctively created lateral distance before countering. Both of them relied heavily on learned patterns rather than adaptive instinct.
Talented children.
But children nonetheless.
Wei Zhi was watching too, one knee raised slightly as she rested her arm over it, casually sipping water while observing the sparring match. The wind brushed lightly against the loose strands of her black hair, her green eyes fixed on the field with quiet focus.
Wuming's eyes drifted toward her for a brief moment.
How can a seven-year-old child know such so-called confidential things?
His thoughts remained calm, analytical.
Then the answer surfaced almost immediately.
Ah.
Right.
She's the maid too.
Not merely a servant.
A shadow beside his mother for years.
Someone who moved quietly through halls where nobles forgot lower-ranking people existed. Someone who poured tea while ministers whispered secrets. Someone who stood behind curtains while powerful people assumed children heard nothing and servants mattered even less.
People revealed everything in front of those they considered invisible.
And Wei Zhi had been near Yin Fu for a very long time.
Estate gossip.
Political shifts.
Internal conflicts.
External affairs.
She would naturally know far more than most children ever should.
Interesting.
His eyes returned toward the battlefield again just as Weiyang narrowly avoided Yinghua's kick, stumbling half a step before immediately retaliating with a straight punch aimed toward her chest. Yinghua blocked it awkwardly, sliding back against the dirt while Lin Yi watched from a distance with his arms crossed, completely unconcerned whether either child got hurt.
Wuming observed silently.
No excitement.
No surprise.
Only calculation.
Wei Zhi kept watching the sparring match for a few seconds before speaking casually, her eyes still fixed on Weiyang and Yinghua as dust rose beneath their feet with every exchange of fists.
"If you want to find things out," she said, taking another sip from her water bottle, "go now. Those two will keep fighting until one of them backs down anyway."
Weiyang rushed forward again at the exact moment she finished speaking, throwing another strike toward Yinghua, who barely managed to redirect it before countering toward his jaw. Neither of them looked willing to stop anytime soon.
Wei Zhi tilted her head slightly toward Wuming.
"Your training's already done."
Wuming's gaze remained ahead, calm and unreadable. "Lin Yi is a very cautious man," he said evenly. "He won't let me out of his sight for more than ten minutes."
Wei Zhi snorted softly.
"Oh?" she said, finally looking at him properly. "Now you're afraid of him?"
Wuming's eyes shifted toward her slowly.
Wei Zhi smirked faintly, the faint red veins near the corners of her green eyes becoming more visible beneath the sunlight.
"Please," she continued lazily, "you know better than anyone how to twist things your own way. Why the delay?"
For a moment, Wuming simply stared at her.
Then—
"Don't talk to me like a grown-up, hag," he said flatly. "Or I'll tear you apart."
Wei Zhi blinked once.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
Not loudly—but enough for her shoulders to shake slightly as she leaned back on one arm.
"Go for it," she said carelessly. "I really don't care what you do."
Wuming watched her silently, his expression remaining perfectly still while the sounds of fists colliding echoed nearby. The wind shifted softly through the trees above them, carrying dust and scattered leaves across the training grounds.
Wei Zhi looked completely unconcerned.
As if his threat genuinely meant nothing to her.
Interesting.
Most people feared words they didn't fully understand.
But this girl—
Either she was stupid…
Or strangely fearless.
Most humans feared things they couldn't understand.
Wei Zhi did not.
She simply sat there beside him, drinking water while two children beat each other bloody a few meters away, as if threats, violence, and monsters were all ordinary things woven into daily life.
Interesting.
Wuming's gaze lingered on her quietly.
Either she lacked survival instinct…
Or she understood him more than she should.
Neither possibility was pleasant.
His eyes drifted back toward the sparring field where Weiyang drove his fist forward again with reckless force, missing Yinghua's face by barely an inch before she retaliated with a strike toward his throat. Neither of them had proper restraint anymore. Their movements were becoming rougher, more emotional.
Fatigue was beginning to expose instinct.
Good.
That was when true patterns emerged.
Wuming rested his chin lightly against his knuckles, observing.
Weiyang's aggression increased whenever he failed consecutive attacks. His rhythm became faster but sloppier. Yinghua, meanwhile, relied too heavily on evasion once pressured directly. Her counters weakened every time she was forced backward.
Predictable.
Humans always revealed themselves eventually.
Not through words.
Not through reputation.
But through repetition.
The body exposed truths the mouth never could.
His eyes narrowed faintly.
And children were the easiest to read.
No perfected masks.
No years of emotional control.
Just instinct pretending to be personality.
The wind moved softly across the grounds again.
Wuming leaned back slightly against the tree behind him, closing his eyes for a brief second.
A neurologist.
A thousand years.
And now—
A child sitting beneath a tree watching other children punch each other while discussing political executions and soul readers.
Absurd.
Truly absurd.
Yet somehow…
He no longer found it strange.
That realization itself annoyed him slightly.
His fingers tapped once against his arm.
Meihua.
The name surfaced again naturally.
Fang Meihua.
A woman who killed her own father in front of an emperor without hesitation.
Not impulsively.
Not emotionally.
Cleanly.
Publicly.
Symbolically.
That was the important part.
People kept focusing on the killing itself.
Idiots.
The execution was merely the surface.
The true act was the message behind it.
She severed the man who controlled the empire using the very sword he gifted her husband.
Not revenge.
Declaration.
Dominance.
Freedom.
Humiliation.
All layered into one action.
Efficient.
Wuming's eyes opened slowly.
And according to Meihua herself…
She had fed him.
Protected him.
Saved the body he currently occupied.
Why?
That question irritated him more than anything else.
Humans rarely acted without desire.
Especially monsters.
Especially intelligent ones.
So what exactly did Fang Meihua want from him?
A weapon?
An ally?
A future enemy?
Or—
His thoughts paused briefly.
Something else entirely.
Nearby, Yinghua suddenly cried out as Weiyang's fist struck her shoulder hard enough to force her back several steps.
Lin Yi didn't interfere.
Of course he wouldn't.
Pain taught faster than kindness.
Wuming exhaled quietly through his nose.
This world truly was primitive.
Violence, politics, manipulation, bloodlines, clans.
Yet beneath all that—
Human behavior remained exactly the same.
Fear.
Desire.
Power.
Attachment.
Nothing evolved.
Only the methods changed.
And somehow…
That disappointed him more than he expected.
Wuming remained seated beneath the tree, one arm resting lazily over his knee while his gaze stayed fixed ahead, though his thoughts had already drifted far beyond the training grounds.
Twin Dragon Kingdom.
Xuan clan.
Prime Minister Fang.
Yin Fu.
Meihua.
The pieces slowly arranged themselves inside his mind, not emotionally, but structurally, like a strategist laying stones across a board before deciding where the war truly began.
A kingdom ruled openly by an emperor yet secretly influenced by clans.
How typical.
His eyes lowered slightly.
Kings rarely understood that crowns were decorative things. Real power was never seated on thrones for long. It moved quietly beneath them—in ministers, clans, merchants, generals, marriage alliances, rumors, bloodlines.
And women.
Especially intelligent women.
End of 58