Arthur's days had settled into a rigid cycle that left little room for distraction or idleness.
Each morning, he rose before the sun fully crested the mountain peaks. When there was daylight, he spent most of it at the Alchemy Pavilion refining the daily share of pills and potions, then just an incense stick's worth of time near the sect gate's tavern. The evenings were spent hidden away in his chamber, practicing etching inscriptions in secret. Just a shichen for cultivating until his seven energy centers thrummed in harmony, and lastly, the everyday meals with his family somewhere between. A rhythm of discipline, a cycle of growth.
Yet within that quiet pattern. Arthur, who watched more closely than most, saw a change. A quiet tension in his father's shoulders, a shadow in his gaze when he thought no one was looking. His laughter still came, but sometimes a heartbeat too late, as though forced.
It wasn't apparent to others, but the difference was clear to Arthur. Liang Zheng carried a demeanor of secrecy beneath his calm surface.
At first, Arthur thought it was a coincidence, but the more meals they shared, the more he realized. He was sure that his father had figured it out. He must have discovered the technique he forged. He knew the sudden change was because of the scripture.
And that was dangerous.
If he acted like this, someone would figure something out. He didn't want Pandora's box to be opened.
Arthur decided to probe at one midday meal as they ate steamed buns with shredded radish and bowls of clear spirit-herb broth. He tilted his head casually, but his eyes were sharp.
"Father," he said lightly, "you've been behaving a little different lately."
The chopsticks in Liang Zheng's hand paused. Just for a breath, just long enough for Arthur to notice. Then his father chuckled, masking it with ease. "Different? Nonsense. I've only been thinking about where to get the spirit Stones your mother demands. That's all."
Arthur's gaze deepened. His father's answer was too quick, too rehearsed. The care in his tone, the exactness of his phrasing, all screamed of concealment. And if Arthur could sense the shift, then what of others? A person close to his father's life may notice this one day. Because in Tianyu, the eyes always watched for weakness or opportunity.
Unknown to Arthur, that same excuse — arranging spirit stones — was later offered to the Sect Master when he asked him during a meeting. Liang Zheng's tidy explanation carried weight enough to dissolve curiosity. To the Sect Master's Hall, the matter ended there with a laugh.
Everything on the surface remained normal. The household continued operating normally, with the servant moving within. The sect continued to function as it had always done.
Yet Arthur knew better. His father had touched upon something vast, a destiny far greater than he had ever wielded.
The Immortal Lotus Sutra.
Now, only prudence could keep him from drawing the gaze of powers beyond their reach.
With the Immortal Grade cultivation technique, Liang Zheng held leverage to rise above all of Tianyu. He could become more than a physician of middling rank. He could be remembered as one of the Nine Provinces' true pillars — or, if fate was cruel, he might fall, his bones ground into nothing more than the dust beneath another's boots.
Only time would reveal which path destiny chose.
Arthur, however, was content. He had untangled the spirit stone problem, smoothed his mother's temper, and secured his family's standing for now. And above all, he now had a father who would soon stand at the Whiteflare Bloom Realm, a steadfast backer who would go to the ends of the worlds to protect him.
Half a moon passed. Arthur watched over everything.
In the morning, Liang Zheng adjusted his robes and prepared to leave for the Sect Master's palace.
"Father, please wait," Arthur called.
Liang Zheng paused, turning back. "What is it, Xiao Tian?"
Arthur lowered his gaze, his voice quiet but steady. "I know you are troubled, Father."
"Troubled? How so?"
"You've been… secretive. Different. You seem off. I know I have troubled you."
Liang Zheng's brows knit faintly, though he said nothing. The silence weighed heavily until Arthur pressed on.
"I tried to track down the scammer," Arthur continued, lowering his voice as though confessing. "But those people in the alley swore they'd never seen him. Some even claimed I wasn't there at all. I think… I think the whole alley is in on the fraud—"
"Tian'er."
Arthur stopped. His father's interruption was firm, almost sharp.
"Do not concern yourself with such matters," Liang Zheng said. His eyes softened, but his tone left no room for argument. "Forget the scammer. Forget that book. Look at me — aren't I smiling?"
Arthur hesitated. "…Uh. Yes, Father."
"Then trust me. I assure you, I am not worried. Leave this matter aside. Father promises he will return to how he was before. I am not troubled."
Arthur's lips pressed thin, but he nodded. "Okay, Father."
"Now go on to the Alchemy Pavilion. And don't worry yourself further. As for the Origin Tempering Elixir—" Liang Zheng's voice softened, almost guilty. "I know I have been harsh on you. From now on, I will provide the best resources to counter its side effects. I should have done so sooner."
Arthur stood frozen for a moment, unsure how to react. He had never touched the Origin Tempering Elixir, but his father did not know. He only nodded, bowing his head.
Liang Zheng waved his hand with forced cheer. "Go, you silly boy."
Arthur turned toward the pavilion, his steps light but his thoughts heavy.
He had successfully nudged his father back into the guise of normalcy, shielding him from dangerous attention. He had solved every problem: appeasing the Alchemy Pavilion, placating the Inscription Pavilion, weaving through his father and uncle's rivalry, easing his mother's anxieties. None of them even realized they had become his pawns.
And yet, a thought gnawed at him.
Have I ever been normal?
Have I ever stopped scheming?
Have I ever cared for Daniel like Liang Zheng cares for his boy?