Chapter 69

Chapter 69

Upon hearing this, Eve was the first to be taken aback. She had personally brewed the potion—how could she not know its effects?

But as she carefully observed Lorca, she began to feel uncertain again.

Lorca’s eyelashes were lowered, his dark, slender lashes trembling like butterfly wings. His face was as pale as ever, giving no indication of his current condition. And since he was always acting, Eve couldn’t tell whether his claim of feeling unwell was genuine or not.

His fingers still hooked into Eve’s sleeve, but he did so with subtlety—just two delicate fingers loosely clinging to the cuff of her loose shirt. A slight tug would easily free her.

Yet Eve had always been more responsive to gentleness than demands. If he had confronted her directly like Ludwig, she would have brushed him off without a second thought. But Lorca’s pitiable demeanor, whether real or feigned, softened her defenses almost instinctively.

Lorca clearly knew exactly how far to push the pitiful act to get his way. After asking his question, he fell silent.

Nearby, Alice, who knew far less about Lorca’s nature than Eve did, let out a soft “oh” the moment the Young Master made a show of discomfort. Assuming they were about to discuss something private, she tiptoed toward the door, peeking out with just half her face visible. “Xiao Qing,” she said cautiously, “if the Young Master needs you, should I go?”

She assumed Lorca had come looking for Eve. Without waiting for a response, she scurried away—in the same direction the butler had taken Ludwig earlier.

No doubt she was off to check on the injured Ludwig.

Eve sighed resignedly and began pushing the Young Master’s wheelchair, wondering how Lorca had again managed to maneuver them into being alone with just a few words.

“Do you have any plans for this afternoon?” she asked him.

“Probably not,” Lorca replied after he made a show of considering. “Most of the time, I have nothing to do. No particular hobbies either—I usually just find a place to read and pass the time.”

“Perfect,” Eve said thoughtfully. “Come to the alchemy lab. I’ll give you a check-up and see what’s really going on with you.”

The words held no threat for Lorca. He knew exactly what state his body was in—a broken vessel that would show problems no matter how you examined it. So he simply smiled gently and openly. “Sure.”

In the alchemy lab, aside from making time to examine Lorca, Eve also planned to test the alchemy techniques Gu Zhaoxi had taught her. She first returned to her room to change into more comfortable, loose-fitting clothes before heading back to the laboratory. There, she slowly attempted to transform the Decomposition Potion into an Alchemical Formula, following what Gu Zhaoxi had taught her that day.

The process of analyzing the formula was long and tedious. Eve stared at the twisting Alchemical Cipher for a while, occasionally stealing glances at Lorca, who was quietly reading nearby. Compared to her own slouched, relaxed posture, Lorca sat with perfect posture—his neck bent at just the right angle, a flawless example of noble etiquette.

After mentally grumbling about how uncomfortable his posture must be, she spun her pen and suddenly said, “Hey, got a moment? Feel like chatting for a while?”

Lorca made a sound of acknowledgment. “What would you like to talk about?”

Truthfully, there wasn’t much to discuss. Eve suddenly realized how little she knew Lorca. He had asked her earlier what she’d been doing during the day, and after thinking it over, she steered the conversation back to the treatment plan for his toxin condition.

Not usually one for casual conversation, Eve now went on in detail, breaking down complex principles of Alchemy into minute details. Only after she’d finished her lengthy explanation of technical terms did Lorca set down his book and sigh softly.

Eve paused, puzzled. “Why the sigh?”

“Because you didn’t need to explain all of that to me,” Lorca said with a both amused and helpless expression. “I’m sorry, but I’m not an alchemist. Even though I can tell you’re trying very hard to make me understand, I still can’t grasp what you’re saying.”

“Oh... I see.”

Eve pursed her lips. “I just didn’t have anything else to talk to you about. This at least seemed somewhat related to you, so I brought it up. If you don’t want to hear it, forget it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to listen.”

Lorca replied patiently, “If you want to talk to me, you can talk about anything. Even if I don’t understand, I’ll still listen carefully. What matters to me has never been what you say.”

Eve: “...”

Such an accommodating and thoughtful response—it sounded deeply affectionate even if spoken to a dog, and it starkly highlighted her own social awkwardness.

She wasn’t so dense that she couldn’t detect the strategic concession in Lorca’s words. She rubbed her nose, feeling too tongue-tied to respond.

Fortunately, a sudden knock at the door rescued them from the awkward conversation.

It turned out the Family Head Oliver had learned about Eve and Ludwig’s match in the training ground and had sent someone to summon Eve for a talk.

Knowing this conversation was unavoidable, Eve set down her pen and paper and prepared to follow the servant to the Family Head’s office.

But just as she was about to leave the lab, she seemed to remember something. After telling the servant to wait a moment, she walked directly over to Lorca, who was still quietly reading, and placed her hands firmly on his desk.

“......”

Lorca slowly lifted his gaze from his book, meeting the alchemist’s eyes directly, a questioning look in his own.

“I’m really sorry.”

Eve spoke quickly, a little embarrassed because of her other matters to attend to. “I originally planned to finish the Alchemical Formula and then give you a check-up, along with explaining the new adjustments to the treatment plan. But now the Family Head has summoned me, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“It’s fine. Father’s summons are more important.” Lorca smiled, seeming understanding.

But Eve didn’t see it that way. She remembered Lorca mentioning he hadn’t been feeling well that morning. Though she strongly suspected he was making it up, the fact remained that she had left her patient—who required careful attention—without reporting her absence for half the day. If anything had happened during that time, she would be held partly responsible.

Pursing her lips, she said, “I’ll give you a check-up when I get back. From now on, I’ll let you know if I need to go out, though I usually only leave on Saturdays. If you feel unwell, remember to message me promptly. To me, during this period, nothing is more important than you.”

Upon hearing this, Lorca, who had until then maintained a calm expression, widened his eyes abruptly, his heart skipping a beat.

…This was the first time anyone had ever told him he was “the most important.”

After earnestly delivering this speech, Eve felt she’d made herself clear. She cleared her throat and called out to the servant, who had been carefully avoiding eye contact, and left. The vast laboratory was suddenly empty except for Lorca, lonely as a serpent stirring in shadows, left alone with his tumult of emotions.

Beneath the disheveled black strands on his forehead, a pair of emerald-green eyes glimmered faintly. Eve’s figure quickly disappeared beyond the doorframe, yet his gaze remained fixed on one spot in the void.

A psychic summons slowly emanated from his spiritual world, like a beacon in desolation, linking to the other end’s Spiritual State.

The Wall-Imprisoned Serpent could refuse Lorca’s command, but he was, after all, its master. If not for the fear that overusing his mental power would trigger severe headaches, Lorca could even directly control the serpent to replicate everything it had seen and heard for him.

But that would be highly improper—hardly appropriate for a well-mannered Young Master and his diligent Chief Alchemist.

When he first realized Eve was missing that morning, he had nearly activated this method to locate her. Fortunately, Eve had left a message with the butler before going out. After much hesitation, Lorca managed to suppress the unfamiliar anxiety in his heart.

He gently touched his wrist—the very spot where the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent had coiled around Eve’s arm—and wearily closed his eyes.

Lorca had always known his mental state wasn’t entirely healthy. The shadow of death that had loomed over him since birth had shaped him—his family granted him all the dignity due to the eldest son but withheld anything more meaningful.

He couldn’t pilot mechs, couldn’t build his own influence, and couldn’t receive the rigorous education of an heir like Ludwig. All he could do was read constantly, absorbing whatever knowledge he desired.

Subjected daily to such contradictory treatment, Lorca either desired nothing or, once he did, became prone to extreme fixation. But he was skilled at disguising himself and seldom found anything worth coveting, allowing him to maintain his usual gentle and accommodating facade.

Outside the window, the sun sank westward, casting amber light into the room. It cut Lorca’s handsome face into two halves—one bathed in light, the other shrouded in the shadow of the eaves.

His mood, much like the divided light, was acutely clear: no matter how genuine his exterior appeared, it could never conceal his true, darker half.

Of all this, Eve remained completely unaware.

She followed the servant through twisting halls until they reached the Family Head’s office. After she entered, the servant quietly closed the door and withdrew, leaving the two occupants—one seated, one standing—in a private space for conversation.

The Family Head Oliver had been right about one thing when they first met: the Oliver Family indeed had relaxed rules. When Eve entered, the Family Head merely glanced at her. He still had documents to process and gestured for her to take a seat on the nearby sofa and wait.

If this were the Medici Family, the moment she entered, she would have already been kneeling on one knee, paying her respects.

Of course, the Medici Patriarch wouldn’t leave someone hanging; at the very least, he would immediately stop what he was doing to address matters with family members first.

Although Eve mentally cut some slack for the Medici Patriarch, her body honestly scooted to the sofa.

Seriously, if she could sit, why kneel?

As for why Family Head Oliver had summoned her, Eve had a basic guess: most likely, he was surprised by the strength she had displayed, which didn’t align with her earlier claims. He probably wanted to recruit and cultivate her, or put her in her place, or perhaps both.

The background story she had previously given was something she had hastily fabricated on the spot, pieced together from Frank’s experiences. If the strength she had shown was only that of a Three-Star Alchemist, it would’ve been understandable—after all, achieving that level at a young age indicated decent talent. But a Three-Star Alchemist is just another run-of-the-mill mid-tier practitioner in the broader community of alchemists.

However, adding the fact that she had defeated Ludwig took things to a whole other level entirely.

Ludwig was no ordinary person; he was the heir the Oliver Family had invested heavily in. Even if his raw combat strength wasn’t the main focus of his training, he was far from weak. If Eve could defeat him, there was no way she could be a nobody from a side branch of a major house.

With talent like that, even if she were an illegitimate child—or even an adopted child with no blood relation—she would have a promising future ahead.

The most likely scenario now was that Family Head Oliver had finally discovered and investigated Eve’s true identity, which was also connected to one of the Four Great Families.

The elegant middle-aged man sitting behind the desk, leaving Eve in the corner, showed he was sure of himself, confident that he held critical information.

But Eve wasn’t flustered at all. She had been on the capital planet for less than half a year, and her personal information hadn’t gotten around yet. Even the people she usually interacted with were all core members of various major families with extremely high levels of confidentiality—her identity was very well protected.

Perhaps the Oliver Family could hear rumors of someone named Eve, but they wouldn’t know her specific details or her current status of being missing.

A mind game, Eve thought fearlessly. Or maybe they’ve simply investigated the wrong person.

But what she didn’t expect was that, even so, she had greatly underestimated Family Head Oliver’s information-gathering abilities.

He finally finished signing a stack of documents, put away his pen, and then smiled at Eve: "My subordinates just delivered some jaw-dropping intel about you. Although I had expected that your purpose in coming to our family wouldn’t be simple, I never imagined you had such grand plans."

This level of rhetoric wasn’t enough to make Eve get flustered. She replied calmly, "Why would you say that suddenly, Family Head?"

"You once said you were an illegitimate child of a high-ranking member of the Four Great Families, and I believed you," Family Head Oliver said, looking satisfied with Eve’s calm response. The young woman was composed and resolute, like those unmined resource planets hidden deep in the universe—seemingly unremarkable on the surface but full of potential for cultivation.

He continued leisurely, "But why didn’t you tell us earlier that your father is Sparti Medici?"

Eve: "...What?"

It was like a bolt from the blue, out of nowhere, striking her directly. Her expression cracked beneath the mask; she was stunned by Family Head Oliver’s sudden revelation.

When someone is extremely shocked, your mind races. At this moment, only one thought circled in Eve’s mind: Yes, the Medici Patriarch does have an illegitimate child, and he has never given up on making contact over the years. There were breadcrumbs to follow; with effort, investigating from both the capital planet and Black Star, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

—But didn’t they find out that the illegitimate child is male?

Eve’s feelings were incredibly complicated.

Back then, she had just made it up casually—she never actually intended to steal Frank’s life.

But immediately, a new problem arose in Eve’s mind, forcing her to accept this identity for now.

Because according to the original plot, Frank’s identity shouldn’t have been discovered until the latter half of the story, which would then force him into the heir competition—and from the moment he appeared, he would face countless assassinations from his competitors, especially his half-brother Cecil.

Now that Family Head Oliver had uncovered this identity early, it was equivalent to Frank’s identity being put on the table ahead of time, and the risks he might face were now infinitely greater.

This was a mess she’d made by shooting her mouth off. Even though it was an unintentional error, she still felt obligated to take the heat for Frank.