Chapter 7: Mother, the Omen of the Coming Sunflower Water

"I don't think so." The answer was given as a matter of course, leaving Ling Xiaobai speechless. He knew he shouldn't have expected his mother to possess anything like a conscience.

Taking in the resentment on Ling Xiaobai’s face, a flash of amusement quickly crossed Ling Ruoxi’s deep eyes. She didn't know how to raise a son; she only knew that it took countless setbacks to help a person grow.

Suddenly, the faint sound of carriage wheels came from outside the courtyard. Ling Ruoxi’s expression sharpened. Her figure vanished from the chair like lightning, leaving behind only a gust of wind that brushed against Ling Xiaobai’s cheek, causing the cowlick on his head to shake violently.

"Has Mother’s rank improved again?" Ling Xiaobai remained calmly in place, even offering a mature-sounding word of praise. Paired with his delicate, doll-like face, it was indescribably incongruous.

"Bang!" The tightly shut gate was blasted open by a massive force. Ling Ruoxi’s ethereal figure stood isolated before the entrance, her robes fluttering and her dark hair flowing gracefully. She held a golden porcelain bowl in her hand, which refracted mottled halos of light under the setting sun.

"Who are you looking for?" Her sharp gaze swept over the carriage parked at the entrance.

"May I ask..." The coachman tightened the reins, a haughty smile on his face. He had just begun to cup his hands in a salute when a soft voice cut him off before he could finish.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Just by looking at your clothes, I can tell this is your first time in Sunset City. Do you know the rules here?" Ling Xiaobai, wearing custom-made little tiger slippers from a master craftsman and sporting his signature cowlick, poked his head out from behind Ling Ruoxi.

Why was this child dressed so strangely?

The coachman was slightly taken aback, but in the next second, he regained his initial arrogance. The haughtiness and overbearing air radiating from his very bones made Ling Ruoxi’s eyes darken.

"What rules?"

Ling Ruoxi gave her son a look. The opportunity to make money was right in front of them; robbing the rich was something Ling Ruoxi felt absolutely no pressure doing.

Ling Xiaobai coughed lightly and stepped out from behind Ling Ruoxi, standing poised at the edge of the threshold. He held up one finger: "In Sunset City, according to the market rate, asking for directions costs one hundred taels of gold, and finding someone costs five hundred taels of gold. Since it’s your first time visiting, we’ll give you a fifty percent discount. Are you looking for someone or asking for directions?"

"..." The servant was stunned into silence by this pricing. Was this a market rate? It was clearly highway robbery!

The coachman steadied himself, deciding not to bicker with a child. He shifted his gaze to Ling Ruoxi, but upon seeing her actions, he could no longer contain himself. His mouth twitched uncontrollably. Could someone tell him why this woman, who looked so much like the First Madam, was standing there at such an important moment, holding a gold bowl and eating with such gusto?

Wait!

The coachman felt a jolt in his heart. His eyes widened, and his gaze, which was as piercing as an X-ray, stared unblinkingly at Ling Ruoxi.

"Hey!" Ling Xiaobai stepped forward to shield his mother. "Don't you dare have any ideas about my mother. You have no looks, no height, and one foot is already in the grave. Don't even dream of seducing my beautiful mother."

"Get lost." Ling Ruoxi suddenly raised her leg, moving as fast as lightning. Ling Xiaobai scrambled to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike. He patted his chest, still shaken. "Mother is getting more and more violent lately. Is this what Dr. Lin meant by the precursor to her monthly cycle?"

Ling Ruoxi decided to ignore this son whose genes were a mystery. Under the servant’s stunned gaze, she elegantly lowered her left leg, brushed off her hem, and looked as cold as frost. "From the capital?"

"You really are the Eldest Miss!" The coachman pointed at her in pleasant surprise. "No wonder you look so much like the First Madam. This lowly one, Zhu Yitou, pays his respects to the Eldest Miss. May the Eldest Miss be blessed."

"Pig-a-head?" Ling Xiaobai was startled at first, then gave a thumbs-up. "Truly, the name fits the person. The ancients did not deceive me." With that, he clasped his hands behind his back and nodded in agreement.

"Speak your business." Ling Ruoxi didn't seem surprised. Playful as she was, she had seen through the visitor's identity the moment she opened the door. Such a luxurious carriage was not something an ordinary person could own, and the coachman was a master of profound energy with a very stable stance—a Green-rank expert!

Of course, the most important thing was the two bright red lanterns hanging at the front of the carriage, each bearing the character 'Ling' the size of a bean. If she hadn't known who they were, why would she have let Xiaobai ramble on?

Her thoughts raced, but her face remained as indifferent as a river. Her aura was cold and sharp, like a drawn sword, imposing and intimidating.

The servant felt a jolt of alarm. Since when did the Eldest Miss, who was once neither literary nor martial, possess such an aura? It was as if she were a god of death holding a blade; even standing before her, one couldn't help but lower their head in fear.

"It is like this, Eldest Miss. Seven days from now is the Old Madam’s sixtieth birthday. The Prime Minister specifically instructed this servant to come and invite the Eldest Miss back to the manor to celebrate the Old Madam’s birthday."

The Old Madam? Ling Ruoxi narrowed her eyes dangerously. She finally found information in her memories regarding the Prime Minister’s mother. She seemed to be a kind-hearted old woman who had doted on Ling Ruoxi and her mother in the past.

They want to invite her back?

Her cold lips curled into a breathtakingly faint smile. Ling Xiaobai shivered and instinctively took several steps back. Whenever his mother wore that expression, it meant she was plotting something. This was his experience speaking—he had verified this conclusion with countless amounts of blood and tears.