Zhuxin dragged Zhu Siyao all the way back to the Blazing Residence, closing the door behind them before finally letting go of her hand.
Turning around, her beautiful eyes bore into her daughter with a gaze full of scrutiny and unquestionable authority.
“Speak. What were you doing over at Longyin Hall?” Her voice carried a subtle edge of urgency, barely concealed beneath the calm exterior—a trace of unrest still lingering from her earlier entanglement with Jiang Huai, yet she stubbornly maintained her stance as a strict mother.
Zhu Siyao lowered her head, nervously twisting the edge of her clothes, unable to form a coherent explanation.
She stole a quick glance up at her mother’s face—stunningly beautiful, bearing a resemblance to herself, but with a mature woman’s grace and sharpness.
At this moment, her mother’s hair was slightly tousled, faint blush still lingering on her cheeks, and her lips more vividly colored than usual.
Zhu Siyao found it difficult to reconcile the stern woman interrogating her now with the image she had glimpsed earlier through the window crack—the figure who had cast sultry glances at Jiang Huai, speaking boldly and indulging in pleasure.
“I’m asking you!” Zhuxin’s suspicion deepened when she saw her daughter’s evasive eyes, especially since she had come from Su Yingman’s side.
“Why were you with Su Yingman? What did she want from you?”
Zhuxin’s greatest fear was that her simple-minded daughter would be corrupted by the Hehuan Sect Master.
Moreover, judging by Zhu Siyao’s flushed face, damp eyes, and slightly disheveled clothes, something was clearly amiss.
Could Su Yingman have taught her something? No, she couldn’t let Siyao continue to associate with her.
“I… I just missed you, Mother. So… I came up to see you.” Zhu Siyao’s voice was faint as a mosquito’s buzz, offering the poorest excuse imaginable.
“I didn’t want to be alone downstairs. Couldn’t you bring me up too?”
Longyin Hall was so big, with so many rooms. Even if she got the smallest one, it would be fine.
If worse came to worst, she could squeeze in with her mother—after all, her mother’s quarters were quite spacious.
“Miss me?” Zhuxin frowned, the finely drawn willow brows knitting together.
“Then why didn’t you come directly to Blazing Residence to find me?”
The moment the words left her mouth, she suddenly stopped, a flash of discomfort crossing her face.
She remembered what she had been doing when her daughter arrived—what exactly had she been doing?
But then she thought, if Zhu Siyao had really been outside the Blazing Residence at that time, with her cultivation, there was no way she wouldn’t have noticed.
She watched her daughter lower her head, looking guilty and wronged, which only deepened her suspicions.
Zhu Siyao’s small chest rose and fell slightly, the delicate face etched with conflict and embarrassment as she bit her lip in silence.
Zhuxin sighed at last, her tone softening a bit, though still laced with an unyielding authority:
“Fine. Since you’re here, stay here for a while.”
“I won’t ask what happened this time, but next time, come to me first.”
“As for whether you can move up here permanently, that’s not my decision.”
[Actually, she didn’t want Zhu Siyao to move up, to avoid seeing things she shouldn’t.]
Qin Qingyue’s temperament was straightforward, often causing people behind her to line up at the Dragon Throne. It wouldn’t be good if Siyao saw that.
Zhuxin moved over to an ancient-looking Pill Furnace inside the room, which radiated intense heat.
With a flick of her delicate hand, several rare Immortal Materials emitting different lights floated into the air.
Then, as if casually, she took out a small Ceramic Bottle.
The instant the tiny bottle appeared, Zhu Siyao’s heart jolted sharply.
She almost couldn’t hide her expression—she recognized that bottle and knew exactly what was inside.
Zhuxin didn’t notice her daughter’s unusual reaction.
She skillfully tossed several Immortal Materials into the Pill Furnace.
Finally, she carefully uncorked the Ceramic Bottle and poured the precious contents inside, mixing them with the other ingredients.
Her movements were natural, confident that her daughter would never recognize the true “Medicinal Catalyst” at the core.
In her eyes, this was a miraculous Spiritual Pill to improve meridians, strengthen the root foundation, and enhance cultivation—so long as Siyao never learned the embarrassing origin of the ingredients, it would be fine.
The alchemical flames rose, and the aroma of medicine gradually filled the air.
Zhu Siyao sat on the Embroidered Drum Stool nearby, dazedly watching her mother’s focused silhouette as she refined the pill.
Mother and daughter bore an uncanny resemblance, like twin lotuses sculpted from the same mold—one in full bloom with a rich, imposing aura of maturity and authority, the other a fresh bud, radiating youthful vitality and an untouched innocence.
The same extraordinary beauty, yet utterly different in temperament due to age and experience.
After a long moment, Zhu Siyao suddenly spoke softly, her voice tinged with confusion:
“Mother, do you think… I don’t really have a father?”
Zhuxin’s hand, controlling the alchemical fire, twitched imperceptibly. She didn’t turn around but replied in a slightly harsher tone:
“What nonsense are you thinking? Didn’t I already tell you?”
At that moment, the Pill Furnace hummed, the lid opening to reveal several round, crystal-clear pills glowing with intense spiritual light that slowly floated out and landed in the Jade Plate Zhuxin had prepared.
“All done. Take this pill. It will do you a great deal of good.”
Zhuxin handed the Jade Plate to her daughter, her tone both caring and authoritative.
Zhu Siyao looked at the freshly forged pills, still warm, the strange yet familiar medicinal aroma drifting to her nose.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, but suddenly drew back, swallowing her words.
Her small face creased into a knot, her eyes filled with overwhelming confusion, struggle, and disbelief.
This wasn’t right.
This just wasn’t right!
“What’s wrong?” Zhuxin frowned, noticing her daughter staring blankly at the pills, feeling a strange unease in her heart though she tried to keep calm.
Zhu Siyao took the pill still warm from the furnace, crystal and round, but didn’t swallow immediately—just stared at it in a daze.
Suddenly, she lifted her head, her bright eyes, so much like Zhuxin’s, locking onto her mother’s with a strange tone in her voice:
“Mother, do you really want me to eat this pill?”
Caught by her daughter’s clear, all-seeing gaze, Zhuxin’s heart suddenly panicked, as if some hidden corner deep inside her had been illuminated.
She instinctively avoided her daughter’s eyes, her voice hastening as she stressed:
“Of course! Do you think I’d lie to you? Your meridians have been weaker than others since you were young. I specially refined this pill for you. It will consolidate your root foundation and greatly improve your meridian quality. Take it quickly.”
Hearing this, Zhu Siyao fell silent and only looked at Zhuxin deeply.
Then, she slowly lifted the pill to her mouth.
She extended her tender, fragrant little tongue, deftly curling the pill inside.
The pill dissolved instantly, releasing a strange warmth accompanied by a viscous sensation that spread down her throat.
Throughout the swallowing process, Zhu Siyao’s eyes never blinked—they fixed on Zhuxin with unwavering intensity.
She forced the swallowing motion, her delicate throat rising and falling slightly, a faint, complex, almost bewildering expression appearing on her face—one that seemed to mix reluctant obedience with a strange hint of happiness.
Zhuxin felt completely uncomfortable under her daughter’s unflinching gaze, especially seeing the unusual flush and odd expression on her face.
Recalling the true “Medicinal Catalyst” in the pill, an absurd yet overwhelming wave of jealousy surged uncontrollably from her heart’s deepest depths.
The feeling was sudden and irrational, leaving her agitated and nearly unable to maintain her calm exterior.
She abruptly turned away from Zhu Siyao, her back facing her daughter, her voice colder and harder, attempting to mask the turmoil:
“Since you’re fine, go back quickly.”
“The remaining pills are for you to keep. Remember to take one every day and let the medicine work gradually.”
This dismissal was swift and sharp, the jealousy inexplicably fierce.
“Thank you, Mother.”
Recognizing the source of happiness was far more comforting than confusion, a door opened in Zhu Siyao’s heart at that moment.
“I will be asking for more pills often,” she said with emphasis.