Shen Fei let the silence stretch, enjoying her discomfort. There was something endearing about her nervousness—the way she bit her lower lip, the way her purple eyes kept darting to his face and then away.
"The estate is quite impressive," he said finally, his tone casual. "I've never had the opportunity to explore it properly."
Ziyun's shoulders relaxed slightly. "It is. My family has lived here for generations. There are courtyards for each branch of the family, training grounds, gardens, the treasury..."
"And all of it built to protect the Snow Wind family," Shen Fei observed.
"The defensive inscriptions in the outer walls are particularly well-designed.
effective against a siege of demon beasts."
Ziyun stopped walking, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. "You can see the inscriptions?"
"Of course." He smiled, enjoying her surprise. "The variance pattern is subtle, but obvious enough if you know what to look for. Whoever designed those walls was either brilliant or lucky—perhaps both."
"They were designed by one of our ancestors," Ziyun said, a note of defensive pride in her voice. "Master Ye Xuan. He was one of the greatest inscription masters of his generation."
"Was he?" Shen Fei's smile widened fractionally.
"Then he was brilliant, not lucky. The third-layer harmonic adjustment is particularly inspired—it compensates for the weaknesses created by the periodic variance while maintaining the overall integrity of the defensive array."
Ziyun's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their purple depths. "You're trying to impress me."
"Am I succeeding?"
She made a sound of annoyance, a huff that puffed out her cheeks. "You're insufferable."
"The word you're looking for is 'impressive.' But I'll accept 'insufferable' as a close second."
She turned away with a flounce of purple hair, resuming her walk at a slightly faster pace.
But Shen Fei noticed that her posture had shifted—the stiffness in her shoulders easing into something more natural.
He was no longer a stranger, but a rival to be sparred with.
The estate unfolded around them as they walked. She pointed out various courtyards, reciting the names and affiliations with the practiced air of someone who'd given this tour many times before.
"That's the eastern training ground, where the younger disciples practice basic soul force manipulation. Those are the residences of the third and fourth branches of the family. Over there—"
She gestured toward a large, ornate building.
"is the main hall, where formal ceremonies and family gatherings are held."
Shen Fei absorbed the information, filing away details that might prove useful in the future.
The Snow Wind family compound was a maze of interlocking structures, each designed to serve multiple purposes—defense, cultivation, social display.
They passed a group of young cultivators sparring in one of the smaller practice yards. Their soul force flared and clashed, the sound of their efforts echoing off stone walls.
Ziyun paused to watch them for a moment, her expression thoughtful.
"Brother Shen Fei," she said, her voice taking on a sly edge, "you're so knowledgeable about cultivation techniques and alchemy. What about other fields? Inscription, array formation, crafting?"
The question was loaded. Shen Fei recognized the trap immediately—she was testing him, trying to find the limits of his knowledge so she could knock him down a peg or two.
"Just a little bit about everything," he replied, keeping his tone light.
Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "How much is a little bit?"
"Just as much as my knowledge of alchemy and cultivation techniques. Which is to say—" he paused, letting the moment stretch. "enough to get by."
She pouted, the expression unexpectedly adorable on her young face. "Liar."
Then, under her breath, barely audible: "How can anyone have so much talent in every field? It's not possible."
'You'd be surprised,' Shen Fei thought. 'God Rewards Hard Work isn't limited to any single discipline. The more I study, the faster I learn—and I've been studying constantly.'
Aloud, he said, "You don't believe me?"
"I think you like to brag." She shot him a sidelong glance, her earlier nervousness now fully transformed into spirited defiance. "I think you enjoy making other people feel small."
"An interesting theory." His smile was infuriatingly calm. "Do you have evidence to support it?"
"The way you talked about the defensive inscriptions. You knew you were showing off. You wanted me to be impressed."
"Did it work?"
She stamped her foot, a gesture of frustration that made her purple hair bounce. "You're doing it again."
Shen Fei laughed—a genuine sound, surprising even himself.
The girl was more entertaining than he'd expected. Her innocence was real, untouched by the jaded cynicism that colored most noble women's interactions.
It would make the eventual corruption all the sweeter.
Patience, he reminded himself. She's still a child. Rushing this would only ruin the flavor.
They rounded a corner, entering a corridor lined with flowering vines. The scent of jasmine drifted through the air, mingling with the subtle spiritual energy permeating the Snow Wind family compound.
Ahead, the treasury building loomed—a squat, heavily fortified structure that radiated an aura of ancient power.
But before they could reach it, a voice rang out from a side passage.
"Ziyun?"
The woman who emerged was in her early forties, elegant and cold, with the unmistakable Snow Wind stamp in the sharpness of her features.
She wore the robes of a senior inscription master—marked with the intricate patterns that denoted her rank—and her eyes held a guarded intelligence that immediately set Shen Fei on alert.
"What's up, Ziyun? And who is this?" The woman's gaze swept over Shen Fei with assessment, pausing for a beat. "Could it be your future husband?"
Ziyun's face exploded in color. "Aunt Xue Yin."
"What?" The woman—Xue Yin—grinned, the expression transforming her severe features into something almost playful.
"Am I wrong? You're leading a young man through the family compound. That's usually how these things begin."
"Humph!" Ziyun's foot came down again, this time with enough force to crack a stone tile. "Who would want this boasting bastard as a husband?"
The words were harsh, but Shen Fei heard the waver in her voice—the note of protest that was just a little too loud, a little too insistent.
Xue Yin's eyebrows rose. "Oh? Then who is he?"
Ziyun's chest puffed with self-importance.
"Who else could he be but the esteemed genius everyone's been talking about? Shen Fei." She paused, her eyes flashing with mischief.
"Auntie, you're a senior inscription master. Why don't you ask him some questions about inscription patterns? Let's see how his knowledge compares to his talent in alchemy."
The challenge was transparent. Xue Yin's eyes flickered to Shen Fei, and for a moment—barely perceptible—something ugly flashed across her face.
Disgust. It was there and gone, replaced by a mask of polite neutrality.
'She doesn't like me,' Shen Fei observed. She's heard the rumors. She knows about my reputation with women.
He wasn't surprised. Women of Xue Yin's age and position were often the most resistant to his charms—they'd heard too many stories, seen too many of his victims. They knew exactly what kind of man he was.
"I'm sure Master Shen Fei has better things to do than entertain an old woman's questions," Xue Yin said, her tone carefully neutral. "The City Lord must be waiting for him."
"Oh, but he's going to see the treasury for his reward," Ziyun said, her voice sweet with feigned innocence.
"His reward. For being such a genius." She stressed the word, loading it with sarcasm. "But there's no rush, really. Father said to take all the time we need."
Xue Yin's expression tightened. The tension in the air thickened.
'This is going to be entertaining,' Shen Fei thought.
"Fine." The word came out sharp, like a blade being drawn. Xue Yin's eyes fixed on him, cold and calculating. "Let's see what the little genius knows about inscription patterns."
She launched into a question about advanced array theory that would have stumped most senior practitioners—specifically, the interplay between primary and secondary energy channels in high-density defensive inscription.
Shen Fei answered without hesitation. His mouth moved, reciting the relevant principles, citing historical precedents, and offering practical applications.
It was like breathing for him now—the knowledge flowed out in a steady stream, each word building on the last, constructing a framework of understanding that left no room for error.
Xue Yin's eyebrows rose slightly. She asked another question—more difficult this time. He answered.
Another. He answered.
Another.
The questions came faster now, each one probing a different aspect of inscription theory. Shen Fei fielded them all with the same unshakeable confidence.
Then Xue Yin's posture gradually shifted.
The coldness in her eyes thawed, replaced by a hunger that Shen Fei recognized—the hunger of a scholar discovering a new resource, a mind that could finally keep up with her own.
She trailed off, her eyes going distant, her fingers twitching as if tracing invisible patterns in the air.
Watching her, Shen Fei saw the true scholar beneath the cold exterior—a woman who had dedicated her life to understanding the mysteries of inscription, who would sell her soul for a single new insight.
'Everyone has a lever; she is a good milf. I have got to visit her sometime to pound her senseless,' he thought with satisfaction.
For Xue Yin, it's knowledge. Offer her enough of it, and she'll overlook any amount of moral objection.
Beside them, Ziyun watched the exchange with growing amazement. Her earlier smugness had faded, replaced by honest wonder.
Her purple eyes were wide, unblinking, fixed on Shen Fei's face as if seeing him for the first time.
'There it is,' Shen Fei thought.
Two hours passed. The afternoon sun warmed the corridor where they stood, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
Xue Yin's questions had evolved from simple tests of knowledge to genuine consultation—she was now asking him for insights on her own research, seeking solutions to problems that had plagued her for years.
Shen Fei answered them all. Some solutions he knew from his reading; others he extrapolated on the spot, using the vast knowledge base he'd accumulated to make leaps of logic that would have taken others years of study.
The God Rewards Hard Work talent hummed in the background, sharpening his mind, accelerating his thought processes, turning every answer into a small demonstration of intellectual superiority.
She looked at him with an expression that was almost reverent. "Where did you learn all this? The Academy library doesn't contain half of what you've described."
Shen Fei's smile was enigmatic. "I read between the lines."
Before she could probe further, Ziyun stepped forward, grabbing his hand with a suddenness that startled them both. "Auntie, Father said to take him to the treasury. We should go—you can ask your questions another time."
Her touch was warm and soft, her small fingers wrapping around his with a possessiveness that surprised him.
She tugged at his arm, pulling him away from her aunt with a determination that belied her earlier shyness.
"Ah, right." Xue Yin shook herself, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she remembered her position.
"The treasury. Of course. Bring your little husband to visit me at the Inscription Association later, girl. We have much more to discuss."
The teasing in her voice made Ziyun's face flush crimson, but she didn't release Shen Fei's hand. Instead, she pulled harder, practically dragging him toward the treasury's reinforced entrance.
"Come on, Brother Shen Fei," she muttered, her voice tight with embarrassment. "Before Auntie talks us both to death."
They disappeared through the treasury's outer door, leaving Xue Yin standing alone in the corridor.
She watched them go, her expression complicated—equal parts intellectual excitement and maternal concern.
"Sigh."
The sound escaped her involuntarily.
She didn't want anything to happen between Shen Fei and Ziyun.
His reputation was infamous—a playboy who had ruined countless women, a scumbag who used his position and power to exploit the vulnerable.
Every instinct she had screamed that he was dangerous, that no good could come from letting him near her niece.
But she also understood reality.
The world outside Glory City's walls was hostile and unforgiving. Demon beasts prowled the wilderness, growing stronger every year.
The dark guild's influence spread like a cancer, corrupting everything it touched.
Even within the city's protective walls, there were threats—political rivals, jealous families, power-hungry cultivators who would stop at nothing to advance their interests.
And here was Shen Fei—brilliant, powerful beyond his years, offering solutions to problems that had plagued the city for generations. His pills would save lives. His cultivation techniques would strengthen the next generation of demon spiritualists. His knowledge of inscriptions could revolutionize defensive capabilities.
In an environment like this, Xue Yin thought heavily; perhaps he was the best choice for her.
Perhaps this is even the City Lord's intention. Otherwise, why would he allow his daughter to get close to a man like this?
It was a cold calculation, the kind she'd learned to make over decades of surviving in a world that cared nothing for sentiment.
If Ziyun had to marry someone—and as a noble daughter, she almost certainly would—then better it be someone who could protect her. Someone with the strength and intelligence to keep her safe when the walls fell, and the beasts came howling.
But still...
She shuddered, remembering the stories. The girls he'd forced into submission. The families he'd ruined. The lives he'd crushed beneath his heel without apparent remorse.
'I'll watch him, she decided. If he hurts her... if he so much as makes her cry…'
The threat hung unfinished in her mind.
'What could she do, really? He was already stronger than her, and growing stronger by the day. In a year, he'd be beyond her reach entirely.'
'I'll watch,' she repeated, the words hollow even in her own thoughts.
---
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