"Master?!" Yang Xing exclaimed in shock, even more agitated than his own master. "Young Master Si, our young lord is actually your disciple?"
Si Muchi smiled faintly at him, then turned his gaze to Li Yingfeng beside him. Seeming to rarely witness him this stunned, he couldn't help but laugh aloud. "Haha! I said it, didn't I? Lin'er resembles you so much—so he really is your own flesh and blood!"
Li Yingfeng shot him a cold glare. "You guessed it long ago. Why didn't you tell me?"
Si Muchi glanced toward Chu Xinrao's direction and smiled without a word.
He had indeed harbored suspicions early on and had even tested Chu Xinrao multiple times, but she had always firmly insisted she knew no one from the Li family. Moreover, knowing Li Yingfeng as he did—the man was famously averse to women—if he truly had a woman, his nature would never have allowed her to remain adrift outside.
"Master, I never imagined you were acquainted with my father!" Chu Qilin couldn't help but exclaim in amazement.
"Lin'er, you've been away from your master for over a year now—has your martial skill improved?" Si Muchi bent down and ruffled his hair.
"Whether it has or not, only Master's examination will tell." Chu Qilin flashed a small grin.
"You little rascal!" Si Muchi chuckled and flicked his forehead.
Watching their affectionate exchange—more like father and son than actual father and son—Li Yingfeng's face darkened, and his gaze suddenly shot toward Chu Xinrao.
Sensing the fierce killing intent bearing down on her, Chu Xinrao turned her head and found herself utterly exasperated.
Why was he glaring at her?
The sight of their silent exchange caught Si Muchi's eye, and a hint of amused intrigue crept onto his gentle features.
After all these years, the iron tree had finally bloomed…
But this bloom seemed a little out of the ordinary?
Chu Xinrao had no desire to look at that scowling face of his, so she made an excuse and took her leave.
With Si Muchi as her son's master, she had even less reason to worry about how the boy would fare.
She didn't return to Tinglan Court either. Instead, while Li Yingfeng was occupied hosting Si Muchi, she slipped quietly out of the manor.
After all, besides printing and selling books, she still had lectures to give at the academy—she simply had no spare time to tangle with men.
Si Muchi, for his part, genuinely wanted to see how much his beloved disciple had progressed. After Chu Xinrao left, he had Chu Qilin demonstrate his skills on the spot.
When he watched his son wield a small sword, executing a sword form with such breathtaking mastery, Li Yingfeng was utterly dumbfounded, frozen in place for a long while, unable to snap out of it.
Yang Xing, meanwhile, was as thrilled as if he'd stumbled upon a treasure. Had it not been for the icy aura radiating from his master, he might well have leapt into the air and cheered. "Your Highness, the young lord is truly extraordinary! He's so young, yet he's already cultivated internal energy!"
Standing beside Li Yingfeng, Si Muchi watched his disciple's swordplay with appreciation, then arched a brow at Li Yingfeng. "Seems you don't know Lin'er at all. Can I say you've been a useless father?"
"And how much do you know?" Li Yingfeng shot him a cold sidelong glance.
"Heh heh!" Si Muchi turned to face him, smiling with deep meaning. "He's your son—why ask me? But come to think of it, Lin'er truly takes after you. He likes to keep his talents hidden."
At that, a strange glimmer flashed deep within Li Yingfeng's eyes.
His son had other abilities?
And abilities of no ordinary kind!
But how old was the boy?
Not even six yet!
"Yingfeng, what's the story between you and Xinrao? I can see you don't care much for her, so why let her bear your child? That hardly seems like your style!" Si Muchi glanced in the direction Chu Xinrao had gone, a hint of gossipy curiosity creeping onto his face.
Xinrao?
How familiar he made it sound!
Li Yingfeng shot him a sharp glare. "No comment!"
But Si Muchi didn't drop the topic. In fact, he even wore a hint of pity for him. "I can see that Xinrao doesn't really care about you… though that's hardly surprising. A woman like her—there aren't many men who could truly match her."
"…!" Li Yingfeng's handsome face turned completely black in an instant.
He wasn't good enough for that woman?!
A peasant girl raised in the countryside, and he—an honored prince—wasn't good enough for her?!
But Si Muchi said no more. Leaving Li Yingfeng with a darkened face, he walked toward his beloved disciple.
"Lin'er, your master came down the mountain this time on important business. I happened to pass through Yunan City when your father dragged me to his residence. Since there's nothing pressing here, I should be on my way. Keep up with your training and don't grow lazy, understood?"
"Lin'er will heed Master's teachings!" Chu Qilin nodded obediently.
Si Muchi patted his head and left without hesitation.
After watching him depart, Chu Qilin sheathed the foot-long sword, slung it across his back, and walked over to Li Yingfeng.
"Father, I have matters to attend to today, so I won't be dining at the residence."
Looking at his son standing straight and tall—though every inch of him was still youthful, the expression on his face carried a competence and maturity that many adults couldn't manage.
Li Yingfeng's temple veins throbbed violently. He felt his mind was about to give out.
Wasn't this child still an innocent, guileless boy just yesterday?
In the span of a single day, it was as if he had become a completely different person!
"Where are you going? For what purpose?" He put on the stern demeanor of a father and asked in a low voice.
"The workshop is about to start production. I can't afford to be idle—if we delay the book merchant's order, we won't be able to compensate for the loss."
"Workshop? You mean the Replication Technique?" Li Yingfeng already knew that the Replication Technique had come from the hands of mother and son. But when he learned that the remarkable mastermind behind it was none other than Chu Xinrao—that woman—he could hardly believe it. Now that his son was right before him, he decided to ask directly. "How did the Replication Technique come about?"
"My mother created it."
"A peasant woman who can't even read a single character—she could create something so miraculous?" Li Yingfeng blurted out in doubt.
It wasn't his fault he looked down on that woman. He had already investigated everything about her time in Heming Village down to the last detail.
For him to believe that a worthless peasant girl could compose poetry and prose was already absurd enough. Now they were telling him that this woman not only excelled at poetry and prose, but even possessed miraculous abilities? If he believed that, it would be the greatest joke under heaven!
Seeing his utter contempt and disdain for her mother, Chu Qilin's little face stretched long, and he glared at him with displeasure. "You can't judge a person by appearance. Don't presume to pass judgment on my mother!"
"You—" You little brat, daring to lecture him!
"My mother is the most capable woman in this world. If you don't understand her, then don't make reckless judgments about her!" Chu Qilin was clearly furious. He turned and left without even bothering to say goodbye.
Li Yingfeng's dark, grim face was nearly frozen with rage.
Not only did this little brat scold him, but he also acted as if no one else mattered—showing him not an ounce of respect!
Who gave him such nerve?!
"Your Highness, is the young lord simply leaving like that?" Yang Xing watched the direction the small figure had gone, somewhat uneasy. "Shall I go stop the young lord?"
"Let him go!" Li Yingfeng gritted out through clenched teeth.
But the very next moment, his legs moved of their own accord, chasing after his son with a body full of cold fury—
……
Toward this mother and son, Li Yingfeng harbored a mix of frustration and, more than anything, curiosity.
He had originally planned to have his son apprentice under the Vanhua Sect, thinking that even if the boy never entered officialdom, he could still achieve something through the foremost martial sect in the martial world.
Yet, what he never dreamed of was that his son had already long been a disciple of the Vanhua Sect—and moreover, trained under Si Muchi himself!
That sword technique, wielded with controlled power and fierce intensity, would take an ordinary person at least eight to ten years to master, but how old was his son?
By this reasoning, the mother and son had long since established ties with the Vanhua Sect!
How exactly had they managed it?
And that woman…
She was clearly just a peasant girl—everyone in Heming Village knew she was mistreated by her family, surviving, so to speak, under their abuse.
Could someone like that really be literate and skilled in writing?
On the other side, Chu Qilin, seeing him follow along, didn't shoo him away either. After a brief silence, he suddenly asked him, "My mother has a class this afternoon. Do you want to go to the schoolhouse to watch?"
"A class?" Li Yingfeng was momentarily taken aback, then it dawned on him—so that woman had been secretly pursuing her studies. No wonder she could wield a brush and pen!