Zhao Hao

At the second quarter of the Chen hour, the bluestone steps of Moxiang Pavilion caught the first rays of the sun.

Li Tui stood at the foot of the steps. The three characters "Moxiang Pavilion" were picked out in gold lacquer on the blackwood plaque, their strokes sharp as blades.

Inside, the green bricks were polished until they gleamed like mirrors.

The place where the children of Aristocratic Clans come to study.

Li Tui withdrew to the shadow beside a corridor pillar. Attendants did not enter the classroom; that was the rule. After all, "attendant" was just a title that sounded respectable. In truth, he was there to be a playmate around the Third Young Master's age, and to keep an eye on him so he wouldn't cause a major disaster.

Li Tui found a bluestone platform beside the pillar, brushed away the dust, and sat cross-legged. It was secluded here, and from this spot he could see the classroom's main entrance.

He closed his eyes and focused.

The true qi within him had been accumulating for more than ten days, like streams gathering into a pool. Li Tui guided his consciousness down into his dantian. The faint blue-green glimmer had grown much more solid since the start of the month, like a seed of jade suspended in deep water, brightening and dimming with each breath.

He set the qi-guiding method in motion.

True qi flowed through his meridians. It was still somewhat sluggish, but far smoother than before.

Soon.

At this rate, with the resources that came with being an attendant, his spiritual root might fully awaken within a year at most. Only then, when he drew spiritual qi into his body, would he truly have crossed the threshold to cultivation.

The sun shifted across the sky.

After an unknown length of time, strange sounds drifted from inside the classroom.

Li Tui stopped cultivating and looked up.

He rose, brushed off his clothes, and approached the classroom door. Stopping in the shadow cast by the doorway, he peered inside.

The instructor in the blue robe still stood at the lectern, holding a book. His eyes lowered, he appeared completely detached from the world.

Most of the students had yet to leave. They had gathered in a distant semicircle, their expressions varied: some gleeful, some shrinking back in fear, and most watching with indifference.

At the center of the commotion, Zhao Yuanchong stood with his hands behind his back, chin raised slightly.

Facing him stood a boy in rough clothes, around twelve or thirteen years old. He was half a head taller than Zhao Yuanchong, with ordinary features, but his eyes were unnervingly calm. A dark jade pendant hung from his neck, its coarse workmanship clashing with the fine clothes around him.

"Zhao Hao," Zhao Yuanchong said. His voice was not loud, but it carried clearly. His gaze fell on the other boy's pendant, and a teasing smile curled his lips. "We haven't seen each other in months. That pendant of yours... It's quite nice. I hear it was a keepsake from your birth mother?"

The air seemed to grow colder.

Zhao Hao stiffened slightly. His fingers clenched inside his sleeves, his knuckles turning white. But his face remained impassive as he lowered his head a little. "You're too kind to remember, Third Young Master. It's my mother's keepsake. I wouldn't call it valuable; I only cherish the love she gave me."

"Her love?" Zhao Yuanchong seemed to find that amusing. He took half a step forward, tilting his head, his smile innocent and cruel all at once. "I vaguely remember hearing about the past... Cousin Hao's birth mother was a woman renowned for her embroidery in the market, wasn't she? What a coincidence. With a background like that, no wonder you're so diligent in cultivation. Is it to bring honor to your mother and raise your family's standing?"

Every word was a needle, driven straight into the sorest spot.

A faint gasp came from the watching students. At the lectern, the blue-robed instructor frowned slightly and rubbed his fingers along the edge of his book, but in the end, he did nothing.

Zhao Hao raised his eyes. A thin layer of ice had formed in those calm eyes, their chill piercing. He fell silent for a moment, then slowly, ever so slowly, tugged at the corners of his mouth in a smile that held no mirth.

"You speak the truth, Third Young Master." His voice remained steady, even a little deeper. "Those of humble origins understand better than anyone how hard it is to press forward. I dare not compare myself to your talent and good fortune. I can only make up for my shortcomings with diligence and dare not slack off."

He put a little extra emphasis on "talent and good fortune." Paired with that utterly cold gaze, the words scraped across Zhao Yuanchong's most sensitive nerve like a dull blade. Who didn't know that Zhao Yuanchong had a first-grade spiritual root, yet neglected his cultivation and made little progress?

The smile faded from Zhao Yuanchong's face, and a flicker of annoyance at being defied crossed his features. He had understood the barb hidden in Zhao Hao's polite words.

"Make up for your shortcomings with diligence?" Zhao Yuanchong scoffed and pointed at Zhao Hao, his fingertip nearly touching the boy's nose. "Then tell me, after all these years of 'diligence,' why do you still stumble even at drawing qi into your body? I don't think you're merely slow. I think you were born missing something!"

The near-unconcealed insult struck at Zhao Hao's inferior bloodline and doomed prospects in cultivation.

A vein stood out on Zhao Hao's neck. The Ink Jade Pendant rose and fell with his restrained breaths. He fixed Zhao Yuanchong with a gaze sharp as a blade, the fury churning within it going far beyond a boy's quarrel.

It was deep-seated hatred.

Li Tui saw it all clearly from the shadows outside the door.

That gaze made Zhao Yuanchong's heart jump, and then his anger surged even higher. A worthless branch-family nobody thought he could frighten him?

He instinctively stepped forward, his arm already rising.

The air crackled with tension.

"Young Master."

A steady voice cut in, not loud, but cleaving a path through the taut air.

Li Tui stepped out of the shadows by the door and walked over at an unhurried pace. He stopped half a step behind Zhao Yuanchong and bowed slightly. "It's nearly noon. The kitchen has prepared lunch, and you have archery and horsemanship lessons this afternoon. The instructor is very strict about punctuality."

Zhao Yuanchong's raised arm froze in midair. He turned and glared at Li Tui, anger still burning in his eyes. "Keep your mouth shut!"

Li Tui lowered his gaze without a word. His respectful posture was firm as a silent stone, blocking Zhao Yuanchong from acting on his impulse.

The brief interruption cooled Zhao Yuanchong's heated head. He looked at the cousins around him, heads bowed but ears pricked, then glanced at the instructor, who had finally turned his attention their way. In the end, reason smothered the urge to lash out on the spot.

He turned and swept out, deliberately stomping as he went.

Li Tui followed close behind. As he passed Zhao Hao, he did not pause for even an instant.

They had gone more than ten paces from Moxiang Pavilion and rounded a screen wall shaded by green bamboo. Ahead stretched the covered walkway leading to Zhao Yuanchong's courtyard. No one else was around.

Zhao Yuanchong suddenly stopped. Without turning around, he spoke, his voice stripped of the swagger he had shown in the classroom and oddly calm.

"You saw what happened just now?"

Li Tui stopped and lowered his head. "This servant was waiting outside. I heard a bit of the argument."

"Just an argument?" Zhao Yuanchong turned slowly. His face had lost its exaggerated anger, and he seemed much calmer now. He stared into Li Tui's eyes. "You saw his expression, didn't you?"

Li Tui was silent for a moment. "Young Master Zhao Hao... seemed to be harboring a grievance."

"A grievance?" Zhao Yuanchong pulled at the corner of his mouth, neither smiling nor frowning. "That was the look of someone who wanted to kill. He hates me. He'd be happy if I dropped dead this very instant."

Li Tui said nothing. It would have been unwise to deny it or agree.

"A worthless branch-family nobody thinks he can hate me?" Zhao Yuanchong murmured to himself. Then he looked up, his gaze settling on Li Tui's face with a child's cruel curiosity. "Wang Yuan, tell me... If I sent you back now to find a place where no one could see, and make him 'accidentally' take a fall, break an arm or a leg, could you do it?"

Wind passed through the covered walkway, and bamboo leaves rustled, making the silence feel even deeper.

Li Tui raised his eyes and met Zhao Yuanchong's gaze. There was a challenge in it, along with amusement—and perhaps even a hint of longing that Zhao Yuanchong himself had not noticed.

"Young Master," Li Tui said evenly, as if stating a plain fact, "Young Master Zhao Hao is still a recognized member of the family. If such an 'accident' happened within the estate, with so many witnesses, Xingtang would certainly investigate. This servant is clumsy and might not cover his tracks. I could end up causing you trouble."

Zhao Yuanchong stared at him for a long while, then suddenly laughed. There was something more to the smile now. "You're certainly cautious." He waved a hand, seemingly losing interest. "How dull. Fine, let's go back. I'm hungry."

Li Tui followed half a step behind him, his face still wearing the same respectful, downcast expression.

Kill Zhao Hao? Cripple Zhao Hao?

Not a ripple stirred in Li Tui's heart. Zhao Yuanchong's malice was like a child brandishing a wooden sword, all bluster and no bite. The young master had been spoiled rotten; he thought a single word could make someone risk his life. He didn't understand that if a recognized family member really died, the first person shoved forward to take the blame would be the "dog servant who had only followed orders"—Li Tui himself.

Zhao Hao could not be touched yet. Not because Li Tui was afraid, but because there was nothing to gain. The life of a minor branch-family boy wasn't worth a thing, and it would only drag Li Tui into trouble. He had seen Xingtang's methods in his previous life: they would rather kill the wrong person than let anyone escape. Gambling on Zhao Yuanchong's passing whim? Only a fool would make that bargain.