Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Mo Jiao's slight frame walked down the corridor under the blazing sun, stopping in front of a rockery.

The two followers behind him caught up, thinking the corridor too narrow for the child to display his skills. They watched Mo Jiao intently, expecting him to demonstrate the unparalleled martial arts taught by his uncle.

Mo Jiao glanced back at them, a cold smile curving his lips. He then extended a hand, channeling his internal energy, and struck towards the rockery with a seemingly gentle palm.

Zhong Yi Xiao and Su Tao watched for a long time, but the palm wind couldn't even sway the grass nearby, and the air seemed to freeze instantly.

Mo Jiao withdrew his hand and walked back to the corridor with a calm demeanor, casually snatching the little wooden sword Zhong Yi Xiao had made for Su Tao as he passed them, and then went straight to his room, leaving behind a languid remark—

"I don't practice martial arts."

Only then did the two of them slowly come to their senses, with Zhong Yi Xiao's mouth twitching slightly.

Su Tao walked to the edge of the rockery and stared hard, finding nothing, then turned back to Zhong Yi Xiao in confusion, "Young master, what just happened?"

Zhong Yi Xiao didn't know what to say. Was the kid just teasing him?

It wasn't funny at all...

But suddenly, he heard a faint crackling sound, puzzled, he looked towards the source of the small noises, which turned out to be the rockery behind Su Tao!

Without a moment's hesitation, Zhong Yi Xiao quickly pulled Su Tao aside to dodge, and just as they steadied themselves, a rock half the height of a man from the edge of the rockery broke into several pieces and tumbled down.

If Su Tao had dodged any later, it would have nearly hit him on the head.

Fortunately, the unlucky child was unharmed, but the scare left Zhong Yi Xiao utterly dumbfounded.

After a moment, the two incredulously approach the rock that was blasted apart, certain it wasn't a natural collapse but caused by external force.

Su Tao is flabbergasted, stuttering, "Ma... Master, the Lady... she’s so powerful!"

Zhong Yixiao is similarly dumbstruck.

"Yes, incredibly powerful."

……

Even a child's internal strength surpasses his own, leaving Zhong Yixiao feeling utterly humiliated.

Mo Jiao continues his nap, sleeping comfortably all afternoon.

But waking up to find Zhong Yixiao sitting by his bed fanning him...

Startled into full alertness, Mo Jiao sits up naturally, his cheeks marked by the bamboo mat, feeling somewhat itchy. Rubbing his face, he looks at Zhong Yixiao, who’s smiling obsequiously, and begins to recall what exactly happened before he fell asleep that caused such a drastic change in Zhong Yixiao's attitude.

"Why are you here?"

Zhong Yixiao smiles, "It’s hot, I came to fan you a bit."

Mo Jiao: "..."

What’s with this gentle and considerate act?

Slightly alarmed, Mo Jiao gets off the bed, feeling thirsty, and Zhong Yixiao, very thoughtfully, puts down the fan, goes to the table to pour water, then brings the cup over with a smile.

"Jiaojiao must be thirsty, have some water."

This abnormal behavior raises suspicion, and after taking a sip, Mo Jiao directly asks, "What exactly are you trying to do?"

"No one knows me better than Jiaojiao. You can tell I have a favor to ask."

Zhong Yixiao looks earnestly at Mo Jiao, "Jiaojiao, can you tell brother who taught you your internal martial arts? Was it your uncle?"

...So he finally understands, that's the reason.

Mo Jiao only revealed his skill to avoid learning swordplay, and he had already controlled his power, only blasting a small rock off the side of the artificial mountain. But he hadn’t controlled it well, knowing there would be consequences, so he ran off first.

Mo Jiao asks, "Did something happen?"

Zhong Yixiao, feeling the loss, says, "My artificial mountain is damaged, the feng shui is ruined. Bringing in another rock of that size will cost some silver..."

Mo Jiao immediately feels less cheerful.

"How come you're so poor."

Zhong Yixiao, momentarily choked up, quickly changes the subject, "Jiaojiao, can you tell brother which sect or school you and your uncle belong to? With your skills being so advanced at such a young age, your uncle must be even more formidable."

...But I, the sect master, don’t actually have an uncle.

The more he inquires about the uncle, the more uneasy Mo Jiao becomes.

"Why do you ask? I don’t know either. Uncle said our family's martial arts must not be disclosed, so you might as well give up on that."

Zhong Yixiao hurriedly clarified, "Brother didn't mean that! I just think Jiaojiao is very impressive, and so is your uncle, who has even saved me. I'd like to thank him in person, and if he could offer me some guidance, that would be fantastic..."

Under Mo Jiao's silent scrutiny, Zhong Yixiao quickly added, "Because brother is not capable enough, my internal martial arts are too weak. I fear I can't protect Jiaojiao. And if we are to marry, we definitely need to meet your uncle. Jiaojiao, you're still a child. If your uncle could step in and have a detailed discussion with me..."

"So you're planning to ditch me as a nuisance and go enjoy your freedom with Zhuang Feiyu?"

The more Mo Jiao listened, the more absurd it sounded, and thinking of this possibility, he became infuriated, glaring at Zhong Yixiao, ready to kill him if he dared say such a thing.

But Zhong Yixiao was baffled, touching his forehead and sighing with a laugh, "No, of course, that's not what I meant!"

However, it puzzled him why this child was always so antagonistic towards Zhuang Feiyu, whom they had never even met! The only reason for his hostility...

Zhong Yixiao felt ashamed to admit that Mo Jiao had called out Zhuang Feiyu's name while in his arms, thinking of himself as scum...

Thus, the topic was skipped, leaving Mo Jiao as a mysterious and unaskable presence.

The next day after school, Zhong Yixiao made a point to pick him up early as a form of atonement.

So, when Mo Jiao stepped out of the classroom to see the elegant smiling young man waiting for him, his heart inexplicably fluttered.

After saying goodbye to his classmate Zhao, Mo Jiao obediently let Zhong Yixiao take his hand and walked home together.

For the next half-month, they continued like this, harmoniously, with no mention of past grievances.

After lunch, Mo Jiao returned to his room, likely for a nap.

The child was always unusually cold to the touch, with a slightly irregular pulse, but it was hard to pinpoint any issue, presumably a natural condition leading to poor health, which Zhong Yixiao did not probe further.

Yet, Mo Jiao came to see him while he was doing the accounts.

Having learned his lesson, Zhong Yixiao immediately set aside his account books and had Su Tao open the door upon his little lady's arrival, greeting Mo Jiao with a warm smile, "Jiaojiao, what brings you to see brother?"

While Zhong Yixiao always smiled at him, Mo Jiao felt his smiles never reached his eyes, or perhaps they were a bit foolish, still unable to figure him out.

Approaching Zhong Yixiao, Mo Jiao placed a sheet of Xuan paper on the desk, stating expressionlessly, "My teacher said my handwriting is good and asked me to show it to you."

"Is that so?"

Considering their teacher's calligraphy is regarded as the best in Suzhou, his praise for Mo Jiao's handwriting meant great satisfaction with his student, filling Zhong Yixiao with pride. However, his expression froze upon seeing the characters on the paper.

The paper bore three bold characters, vigorous strokes seemingly laced with a hidden fierceness, yet astonishingly beautiful, not at all like a child's handwriting. Zhong Yixiao's name was written boldly and squarely in the middle, remarkably.

"Ahem... Jiaojiao's handwriting is indeed beautiful..."

The fact that even his name was written with a hint of murderous intent revealed just how much resentment the child harbored!

Chuckling awkwardly at the handwriting, Zhong Yixiao then noticed something peculiar.

"This handwriting... it resembles your uncle's, did you learn it from him?"

Mo Jiao thought, that was indeed written by him alone, but he had to retrieve the paper before Zhong Yixiao discovered the truth.

"You can give it back to me now."

"How could I?"

Zhong Yixiao swiftly lifted the paper out of Mo Jiao's reach, teasing, "Aren't these characters written by Jiaojiao for brother? How could you want them back?"

"Who said I wrote them for you? Give them back!"

With his ears turning bright red, Mo Jiao glared at Zhong Yixiao, refusing to engage in the foolish act of jumping to snatch the paper back.

It was just scribbling, really, which by chance caught the eye of Mr. Goat-Beard who, after lavishing praise, suggested Mo Jiao show it to Zhong Yi Xiao.

Mo Jiao, without much thought, did just that, now feeling utterly embarrassed.

Zhong Yi Xiao wouldn't return it, instead bargaining with him.

"Look, Jiao Jiao, a few days ago you took the little wooden sword I made. Even Su Yu couldn't find it when cleaning your room. You don't like sword practice, yet you hid the wooden sword I made. So, this letter, written for me, rightfully belongs to me."

Speaking of that little wooden sword...

Mo Jiao's cheeks flushed, vehemently denying, then suddenly raising his voice in agitation: "I didn't take it... and so what if I did? I threw it away, into the fish pond. If you want it back, go fish it out yourself!"

Zhong Yi Xiao: "...Are you serious?"

Mo Jiao huffed in frustration, his gaze locked on the calligraphy, unwilling to give it to Zhong Yi Xiao, that little rascal!