Chapter 62
"Children below twelve aren't allowed inside the main pavilion during court discussions."
Wuming frowned slightly.
"That's absurd."
"How are children supposed to speak with their parents then?"
Mei sighed dramatically.
"We wait."
Then she leaned closer slightly and whispered,
"They're probably discussing court politics again."
Wuming glanced at her.
"You understand politics?"
Mei blinked.
"What's politics?"
Wuming looked forward again.
But inwardly-
He smiled.
Remarkable.
This child truly was Fang Meihua's daughter.
A political genius without even realizing it herself.
Mei puffed her cheeks proudly from Wuming's arm.
"They talk about ministers and peasants," she said seriously, as though revealing a great secret. "About whether things should stay balanced or not. About taxes and court problems and food and trade..."
Then she leaned closer slightly and whispered conspiratorially,
"I know because I sneaked inside once or twice."
She giggled afterward, clearly proud of herself.
Wuming looked at her calmly.
"That," he said, "is politics."
Mei blinked.
"What is politics exactly?"
Before Wuming answered, Ming spoke first.
"Politics is the work of politicians," he explained simply. "The people who serve inside the royal court and govern the empire."
Mei tilted her head.
"That sounds boring."
Ming smiled faintly.
"It usually is."
Wuming's golden eyes shifted toward the lantern-lit pavilion ahead.
Then he spoke quietly,
"Politics is when repeating a lie enough times turns it into truth."
Silence followed briefly.
Then Mei gasped dramatically.
"So politicians are just groups of liars?"
She pointed accusingly toward the pavilion.
"People who deceive others to get what they want?"
Wuming's lips curved faintly.
"You're partly correct."
Ming sighed softly beside them.
"And that," he muttered, "is exactly why I dislike politics."
Wuming glanced sideways at him.
"No."
Ming looked at him.
Wuming's gaze remained calm.
"Saying you dislike politics is often another way of saying you do not care what happens to others, as long as your own life remains comfortable."
His voice remained soft.
"Indifference."
The word settled quietly between them.
Ming's faint smile disappeared slightly.
Wuming continued,
"If politics affect the lives of the people, then caring about politics means caring about those people."
Mei blinked rapidly as if trying to process all of it.
Meanwhile Ming stared at Wuming for several seconds before finally exhaling softly.
"...True."
For a moment-
Only the sound of distant night wind passed through the courtyard.
Then Mei suddenly pointed toward the pavilion again.
"So if politicians are liars..."
Her eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Does that mean Mother lies professionally?"
Ming nearly choked.
Wuming actually laughed quietly this time.
Mei burst into laughter so suddenly she nearly slipped from Wuming's arm.
"Haha- oh gods... then both mothers are professional liars!"
Ming rubbed his forehead immediately.
"Mei..."
But she ignored him completely.
"And Father?" she asked curiously. "What is he then?"
Ming answered first this time.
"He's still part of the court indirectly," he said. "Even if he doesn't involve himself openly."
Wuming's gaze remained on the pavilion doors.
"Father," he said calmly, "is the kind of man who knows Mother is lying..."
A faint pause.
"...and will still convince everyone it is the truth."
Mei's eyes widened dramatically.
"A professional deceiver?"
Wuming nodded once.
"A refined one."
Ming sighed deeply.
"You two speak about the imperial court like it's some kind of circus."
Wuming finally looked at him.
"It is."
Mei immediately pointed toward the pavilion excitedly.
"Yes! A palace full of elegant clowns!"
Ming stared at both of them in disbelief.
"...You're both insane."
Wuming answered instantly,
"And yet we're still the sane ones here."
Mei covered her mouth trying not to laugh again while Ming looked completely exhausted already despite being surrounded by children younger than himself.
Wuming watched their reactions quietly.
For the first time since entering the estate-
The atmosphere around him felt strangely... normal.
Annoyingly normal.
Like ordinary siblings talking beneath moonlight instead of heirs standing in the center of one of the most dangerous clans in the empire.
Wuming remained silent outwardly, golden eyes resting lazily on the courtyard while Xuan Mei continued speaking without restraint, swinging her legs lightly in his arms.
Children truly talked without fear.
Or perhaps...
Only children raised with love could.
Moonlight spilled across the stone pathways of the inner estate, silver light brushing against the red pillars of the main pavilion. The quiet atmosphere contrasted sharply against the chaos Wuming had left outside only minutes ago.
Two broken siblings.
Two cracked walls.
And now-
This.
A little girl resting comfortably against his shoulder as if he had always belonged here.
Wuming's gaze lowered slightly.
So this is the life of a child...
The thought came unexpectedly.
Cold.
Detached.
Yet strangely heavy.
For a brief moment, the courtyard noise faded from his ears.
He had lived for over a millennium.
Walked through battlefields littered with corpses.
Watched kingdoms rise and collapse into dust.
He had stood above emperors, monsters, saints, cultivators, immortals.
Yet this-
This ordinary moment beneath moonlight felt more unfamiliar than war ever had.
His eyes shifted toward Xuan Ming.
Then Hua.
Then Mei again.
None of them carried hatred in their eyes.
Not fear either.
Only curiosity.
Recognition.
A strange warmth he had never expected from the children of Katsuro.
Should I feel guilty...?
The thought lingered longer this time.
The real Wuming died without knowing this.
Without knowing that some of his siblings never hated him.
Without even getting the chance to meet them properly.
All because of Katsuro.
No-
Because of Katsuro's stupidity.
Wuming's eyes dimmed faintly.
Keeping wives separated.
Children separated.
Raising everyone like chess pieces positioned across different boards.
Power truly made humans absurd.
I wonder if he even has time to visit the rest of his children.
The thought almost amused him.
Katsuro sees me once every few weeks at best.
Not that Wuming cared.
Distance from family had always been more peaceful.
Still-
His gaze flickered toward the pavilion entrance.
I wonder how these three would react if they learned I nearly kicked the souls out of their two siblings outside.
Especially Ming.
And Mei.
Xuan Mei suddenly looked up at him again, catching his silence immediately.
"You think too much, brother Wuming."
Wuming looked down at her.
"...Do I?"
"Mhm." She nodded confidently. "Mother says people who think too much become lonely."
Wuming stared at her for two quiet seconds.
Then-
A faint smile appeared.
Small.
Almost invisible.
Yet real.
"Your mother says interesting things."
Mei grinned proudly. "Mother knows everything."
"That," Wuming murmured softly, "is usually what dangerous people want others to believe."
Xuan Ming looked at him strangely again.
Every time Wuming spoke, it felt less like listening to a seven-year-old child and more like hearing an old scholar who had spent his entire life watching humanity rot slowly.
Or perhaps worse-
Someone who already had.
Wuming hated waiting.
But he was also a patient man.
A wise man had to be patient. Otherwise wisdom itself became useless.
His golden eyes rested ahead calmly while silence settled around the pavilion courtyard. Xuan Mei remained in his arms while Hua Hua played lazily with Xuan Ming's hair beside him, both children unaware of the thoughts moving behind Wuming's indifferent expression.
Then-
A small voice echoed inside his mind.
Need my help?
Wuming's eyes shifted slightly downward.
The demon infant floated there upside down before him, tiny black robes fluttering as though underwater, crimson eyes staring directly into his soul with shameless amusement.
Wuming sighed internally.
"Don't talk to me through my eyes."
The infant grinned wider.
"Hoho... so you do need my help."
Wuming tilted his head sideways twice slightly, pretending nothing had happened externally while Mei continued rambling about ministers and court matters beside him.
No one could see the infant.
Not Mei.
Not Ming.
Not even Hua Hua.
Only Wuming could.
The creature existed somewhere between dimensions, tethered solely to his soul. A manifestation born from cultivation, madness, karma, and something far older than humanity itself.
Normally it only appeared when Wuming stood near death.
But lately-
It had begun appearing more often.
The infant floated lazily around Wuming's shoulder before drifting upward like a black bubble through the air.
Then it phased directly through the pavilion walls.
Wuming remained expressionless outwardly, though his senses followed it immediately.
The demon infant moved deeper into the inner estate corridors, passing guards, servants, spiritual barriers, and locked formations without resistance. None of them noticed it. None of them even felt it pass by.
Right now, it was closer to an entity than a spirit.
A result of Wuming cultivating endlessly day and night.
Swordsmanship under Elder Gu.
Qi refinement under Lin Yi.
The path of becoming a Renshou.
Every second of this life had been spent adapting.
Adapting to a body that wasn't originally his.
A life that belonged to another child.
Yet had now become his responsibility to survive within.
The infant finally slowed.
Its crimson eyes widened slightly.
Found them.
Wuming's gaze remained forward while inwardly his consciousness sharpened.
Yin Fu.
Fang Meihua.
Both inside the inner chamber beyond the main pavilion.
The infant floated directly through the doors without difficulty.
And Wuming thought quietly-
This accursed world truly never allows peace.
Wuming's gaze remained fixed ahead, calm and detached, while the demon infant drifted deeper into the inner chambers beyond mortal sight.
Inside his mind, however-
His thoughts never stopped moving.
If I hadn't cultivated the demon infant... I would already be dead.
The realization was neither dramatic nor emotional.
It was simply the truth.
The infant was more than a creation now. More than cultivation. More than a forbidden technique.
It was his second life.
A second existence anchored to his soul itself.
A safeguard against heaven.
Against fate.
Against death.
Wuming's fingers twitched slightly behind his back.
I cannot take this life for granted.
Not this one.
Not after everything.
The heavens had already toyed with him once.
No-
Many times.
That was the strange thing about his existence.
It had never been man versus man.
Never kingdom versus kingdom.
Never even demon versus saint.
From the very beginning-
It had always been only two sides.
Heaven.
And him.
Wuming slowly lowered his eyes.
The heavens will play tricks again. They always do.
Every reincarnation.
Every coincidence.
Every encounter.
Every loss.
Nothing happened without reason in this cursed world.
Especially not to him.
The laws governing existence here were too deep, too twisted, too absolute for ordinary beings to even begin comprehending. Cultivation itself was merely scratching the surface of something infinitely larger.
Something terrifying.
Something ancient.
And had he not read that nameless book-
That cursed, formless scripture beyond rank and origin-
He would never have understood the truth behind his own existence.
Or why the heavens hated him so much.
Wuming's eyes dimmed slightly.
Perhaps... I was never supposed to exist at all.
The demon infant returned floating lazily through the pavilion walls, tiny body spinning once in the air before stopping upside down directly beside Wuming's shoulder, small arms crossed proudly over its chest.
"I did the work," it declared smugly. "You better give me oranges later, Wuming."
Wuming didn't even look at it.
His golden eyes remained fixed calmly ahead while Xuan Mei continued speaking about meaningless childhood things beside him, completely unaware of the sinister existence hovering inches from her face.
The infant floated lower curiously.
Then circled around Mei once.
Then around Wuming.
Its glowing crimson eyes widened dramatically.
"Whoaaa..." it stretched the word mischievously, "it's my first time seeing you this touchy."
The creature leaned closer toward Mei dangling from Wuming's arm.
"And with your sibling too."
A pause.
Then it grinned wider.
"Oops... step-sibling."
Its voice became quieter.
Mocking.
Dangerously curious.
"Do you like them?"
The infant rested midair cross-legged now, chin in palms while staring directly at Wuming's expression.
"Will you accept them?"
Wuming remained silent.
Not a single flicker crossed his face.
Only the evening wind moved through his silver-white hair.
The infant kept smiling.
Sinister.
Patient.
Its red eyes glowing unnaturally beneath the moonlight like two tiny lanterns from hell itself.
Then-
A scream suddenly tore through the inner pavilion.
Women's voices.
Several at once.
Shock.
Panic.
End of 62