After the storm that had raged through the salon finally settled, Alexia was the first to take her leave. With the key players gone, the noble crowd quickly returned to what they did best—commenting from the sidelines.
“A shame for Anthony’s cultivation path as a painter to end like this… but hasn’t Lady Alexia also ruined her chances for a proper Dao companion this season?” one noblewoman murmured, bringing the discussion—predictably—back to marriage prospects.
“It’s outrageous—painting without the subject’s consent! These so-called artists must stop pretending that the Dao of Art lies outside the realm of ethics,” another nobleman said, launching into a philosophical discourse.
And then, of course, there were those who prattled nonsense:
“So Anthony used real cultivators as his models? I’d kill to know who they were…”
One young lady clutched my hand tightly and exclaimed, “Young Lord Eric’s timing was incredible, and your bravery lit up the room! No wonder he fell for you at first sight.”
Naturally, there were many more takes.
Some debated the restrictions placed on noblewomen’s ascension in society and insisted it was time to support Her Highness for the throne. Others countered that she was too scandal-ridden for the role. The discussion gradually shifted toward art again: “The
New Flesh Sect
has run its course. We should be looking to
Neo-Realist Path
cultivators now…”
Bit by bit, like a pot of spirit tea left to cool, the nobles lost interest. Eventually, they began saying their farewells to Lady Margaret and filing out to wait for their carriages.
While most of the nobles queued outside, Eric and I remained to pay our respects to Margaret properly—and to discuss any potential reparations, should she request them.
That’s when I saw Helena approaching Margaret for a final word.
Tch. As expected, she’s ignoring me entirely,
I grumbled inwardly.
Without sparing me a glance, Helena swept up to Margaret and exclaimed in her usual affected tone, “Today was magnificent, Lady Margaret! Where else on the continent could we find such a fearsome cultivatress? The way you crushed Anthony even at personal loss—it was
divine justice
!”
“Don’t flatter me too much,” Margaret replied smoothly. “I’ll recover all my losses from Alex—besides, it’s really thanks to you, Lady Helena.”
“…Huh?”
Thanks to her?
What is she talking about?
I blinked and turned to Helena, confused. But she refused to acknowledge me, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Margaret, and left with a friendly peck on the cheek.
Philip, trailing after her, jabbed me in the side before Eric could stop him. Though Eric’s displeasure was obvious, Philip leaned in and whispered at my ear as though it were nothing:
“Looks like I’ll be seeing Alexia again. Let her know I said hello, would you?”
“…What?”
Why would I meet Alexia again?
And more importantly,
why would I pass on your regards to her?
Before I could get a straight answer, Philip wandered after Helena, offering no further explanation.
What… the hell is going on?
I turned to Margaret with a blank look and asked, “Helena—I mean, my mother—what exactly did she help you with?”
Margaret gave me a look of polite surprise, as though I should’ve known already.
“She helped procure Alex’s paintings. Lady Helena had been in contact with Alex via correspondence long before today. Thanks to her, I suspected Alexia’s true identity early on. That’s how I was able to acquire her paintings at such a bargain.”
She knew about Alexia all this time?
Then Philip’s parting words echoed again in my head:
“Tell her I said hello.”
Of course. OF COURSE.
Philip had always been a natural-born flirt, a romantic cultivator hopping from flower to flower.
“I’ll only marry for true love,”
he’d say…
Ugh. I was
so
done with his crap.
“Honestly, the losses Anthony caused aren’t even worth calling losses. I mentioned it the last time you came to the manor… I guess mothers and daughters don’t share that kind of conversation?”
“I-I didn’t know…”
Still unable to recover from the shock, I muttered. Margaret gave a soft smile.
“Now Alexia can finally sever ties with that old-fashioned clan. Even if you just look at the painting, it may seem like a low price—but I paid quite a hefty amount. I’m sure Alexia knew that, and that’s why she smashed Anthony today.”
So in the end…
Everything that happened today—how it wrapped up so cleanly—was all due to my mother and Philip’s schemes.
I turned to Eric with the expression of someone who had just been struck by a qi backlash. He looked the same.
“Oh, and Alexia said she wanted to thank you for giving her the excuse to beat Anthony up. She wants to invite you to the next art salon… under her own name.”
Margaret handed me an invitation bearing Alexia’s name.
I took it, utterly drained. They said I’d run into Alexia again—turns out that wasn’t just a guess. They even knew I’d be holding her invitation.
Philip…
Helena…
Ha… hahaha…
So that’s how you managed to get your hands on one of Margaret’s rare invitations!
I clenched my fists.
Seriously… what kind of mother plots like this?
“You knew about all this?” Eric lowered his head and asked.
I shook mine.
“Just a moment.”
I asked for his understanding and followed after Helena’s retreating figure.
That damn Helena.
Her voluminous crimson hair was just about to vanish from sight.
Wait up!
I dropped the whole “pregnant lady” act and broke into a run.
I had something I needed to tell her.
‘I don’t want to live like you, Mom.’
That line…
That line was all a lie. I take it all back.
Everything worked out today because of her. Telling me to eavesdrop in the restroom, to be kind to Vivian…
It was all strange and ridiculous advice, but it somehow brought everything together.
Come to think of it, we’ve always been like this. Weird, dysfunctional, twisted—but we always have each other’s backs.
We’re family. Just like she protected me today, we always protect each other.
So how could I not want to live like her?
“Hah… hah…”
Panting, I finally stood in front of the red-haired woman—Helena.
Philip was across the road, hailing a spirit carriage.
I looked my mother straight in the eye and said,
“Thank you.”
“That’s your ‘thank you’ look? Looks more like you want to start a fight.”
She let out a dry laugh.
“It is a thank-you look! I don’t know how far back this whole thing was planned, but…”
“Forget it.”
Helena clicked her tongue and turned toward me.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?”
I stared at her, my chest tightening.
I want to tell her everything…
But I don’t know where to start—or how much to say.
“That thing you said… About not wanting to live like me.”
“…That was…”
“You said I don’t know what ‘normal’ love is.”
Ugh. I really said some wild things. I want to bang my head against a wall.
“And you said you wanted to protect Eric, right? Well, I get that. I know how it feels… When someone becomes a good family to you—and you want to be a good family to them in return.”
You said… you just wanted to become family. Is that why you still tried to form a Dao bond through marriage, even knowing it was doomed?
A chill settled in my chest. I muttered coldly,
“So you were still going to wed the Duke of Orléans… even knowing he was a killer?”
Tch. This wasn’t how I wanted the conversation to go. I wasn’t here to start a fight. I was trying to mend things.
“That part was just to bleed him dry,” Mother replied, clicking her tongue.
“Shameless swindler.”
She turned her gaze away from my glare, looking not at the dimming streets before us, but beyond them—as if staring into a realm of time and space that no longer existed.
“…But what started as a game of pretense turned into genuine love.”
“You loved one of them?” I asked. “One of your five Dao companions?”
“Four. There were
four
.”
“…Is that really important right now?”
Helena turned to me, her eyes sharp.
“It
is
important.”
Whatever.
I was about to roll my eyes when I noticed her pointing straight at me.
“You. And Philip.”
Me? And Philip?
Caught off guard, I just blinked.
“You tried to protect each other. That turned into love, didn’t it?”
Love… for us?
Okay, yes—but still…
Does that really count as a normal kind of love?
“‘Normal’? Don’t be ridiculous. Since when did love ever follow the Dao of Normalcy? If a family formed without a drop of shared blood ends up falling for each other, is that unnatural?”
Helena strode up to me, eyes narrowed.
“Just wait and see. That desire to protect—it’ll spread like wildfire. And when it does, you’ll realize it’s already become love.”
Her finger was now jabbing at my chest.
‘…?’
“You’ll feel it. Right here. Maybe you already do. Eric gave me five hundred thousand gold for you, you know. He said, ‘Her sorrow is my sorrow. Her joy, mine.’”
“Wait, WHAT?! Five hundred thousand gold?!”
My eyes widened. And just then, across the street, Philip called out:
“Found a spirit cab! Let’s head home, Mom!”
Mother waved at him, as if she hadn’t just dropped a thunderbolt. I grabbed her sleeve urgently.
“Eric gave you money? Why?”
“A loan, he said. Said we’d better work diligently and pay it back properly. He won’t consider it repaid if it’s not earned through righteous labor… Seriously, what a stick-in-the-mud cultivator.”
…He lent half a million gold to
my
family?
Why? For what reason?
Wasn’t it just yesterday he was glaring at us like we were common con artists?
As I stood there stunned, Helena smiled slyly and added,
“That’s why I gave you the
Love Elixir
. You two have to cultivate a Dao-union that lasts a hundred years—only then will our mighty creditor stop demanding repayment from Philip and me! Keep your head straight, and snatch Eric’s heart before he even utters the word ‘gold’!”
She jabbed her finger in the air and shouted, her voice echoing through the twilight. Without waiting for any response, she turned and marched away.
I stood frozen, watching as she and Philip disappeared into the spirit cab, which clattered away into the darkness.
And then—
Tap tap.
Someone gently tapped my shoulder.
I turned.
Standing there, looking at me, were two familiar faces.
Vivian. And Olivia.
Both of them extended envelopes toward me. Vivian spoke.
“The Cavendish Clan will be holding a recital in half a moon’s time. A lot of renowned cultivators will attend, so count it an honor.”
I stared at Vivian, utterly dumbfounded, as she handed me an invitation sealed with the Cavendish Clan’s insignia.
Next came Olivia.
“Our clan is hosting a gathering—not quite a formal duel, more like a cultivation banquet. You don’t have to spar or perform, just drop by if you have time.”
Olivia glanced around cautiously before leaning in and whispering in my ear.
“Thanks for disciplining Anthony. Calling him a perverted beast—it was satisfying.”
She smiled slightly.
I looked down to find a stack of invitations in my hand before I’d even realized it.
What is this?
Olivia and Vivian, who only yesterday looked ready to unsheathe their swords at each other, now smiled like sworn sisters, kissed each other's cheeks, and gracefully boarded their respective carriages.
I stood alone, chuckling dryly.
Am I… actually becoming a proper daughter-in-law of the Ducal House?
I didn’t mean to play the part this well…
Just then, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around.
There he was—clad in deep blue robes, his spiritual pressure subdued yet elegant, walking steadily toward me.
Eric Orléans.
Seeing him, a strange ache bloomed in my chest.
…Then covet him.
At this rate, I really might start coveting him. Not just admire him, but tear him from the heavens themselves and claim him as mine.
Just like my mother said, with me marrying into the ducal clan, the entire family would ascend to a life of cultivation luxury.
Damn it!
But imagining it doesn’t make me happy at all!
“…?”
Eric tilted his head slightly, puzzled.
“That face of yours…”
He stepped forward, concern flashing in his eyes. I instinctively stepped back, and he halted mid-step.
“...You…”
I opened my mouth.
“For now… let’s not spend time together.”
“…What?”
I shouted.
“I said let’s stop hanging out!”
Chapter 74