Chapter 50: Reconciliation and Bargain

“The Ji family is an ancient clan with a long and illustrious history, their foundation deeper and their lineage older than many hidden families. The current head, Ji Shaohuang, is a Lord-level Card Master. He is also a practitioner of ancient martial arts; disregarding his Card Master rank, his martial prowess alone could rival a level-seven Card Master. The current heir of Dezhou, Ji Yin, is Ji Shaohuang’s own son...”

Long Yin listened quietly, occasionally glancing toward Yuan Shaolin, each look tinged with disappointment, growing ever deeper.

“As for the hidden secrets of the Ji family…” Sasaki paused, glancing at Long Yin. Seeing no response, he bowed his head and continued.

...

After Sasaki departed, Long Yin remained seated in silence, eyes open but heavy with exhaustion; yet sleep would not come. A bitter smile curved at the corner of his lips—he did not know if the other had truly left. He glanced at the time—it was already five o’clock. With a sigh, he realized the person would not return. Standing up, the disappointment in his eyes blossomed into a resolute clarity.

Just as Long Yin was exiting the Federation Network, the door to his room burst open. Their eyes met; Long Yin’s vision blurred, and before he could rise, two hands pressed him back onto the bed. Long Yin smiled faintly—a stunning yet restrained smile, his gaze upon Yuan Shaolin unfamiliar, his voice distant, “You haven’t left?”

Yuan Shaolin’s eyes reflected even deeper hurt at Long Yin’s look. His grip on Long Yin’s collar tightened, but Long Yin only smiled with the same reserved grace. “You should go.”

Yuan Shaolin’s knuckles whitened; crimson marks appeared on Long Yin’s shoulder blades, yet he simply gazed at Yuan Shaolin, indifferent to the pain. Compared to this ache, the weight of disappointment was far harder to bear.

“Damn it, what do you want to know?” Yuan Shaolin shouted, wounded. “Shall I tell you—Ji Shaoqing is my father? That my father was supposed to be the head of the Ji family? That my dazzling, peerless father risked everything for a man? That my other father killed him before my eyes? That my uncle severed ties with the Ji family for my father’s sake? Or that I am the bastard disdained by the Yuan family’s patriarch? What do you want? Is that enough?”

Breath ragged, Yuan Shaolin’s agitation was plain.

Long Yin gently reached out and cupped Yuan Shaolin’s reddened eyes, those silver irises shadowed by pain and shame. He soothed them, just as he once had, his touch unconsciously gentle, gradually easing the turmoil. The distance in Long Yin’s gaze melted into a faint smile, like the first thaw of ice and snow. The corners of his lips lifted. “I refused. I refused to learn your secrets from Uncle.”

“Your Highness.” Long Yin’s smile was as delicate as a painting, his voice infinitely soft. “Shall I accompany you in bringing down both the Ji and Yuan families?”

Yuan Shaolin stared at Long Yin in a daze. Just then, Long Yin yawned, unable to wait for Yuan Shaolin’s answer. After two sleepless nights, now that the tension had eased, Long Yin’s eyes fluttered closed, his breathing steady and calm. Yuan Shaolin released his grip, noticing the bruises blooming beneath the white collar, the marks stark against pale skin.

For a long time, Yuan Shaolin remained motionless. Then, he lay beside Long Yin. After a day of torment and a moment of cathartic release, he felt utterly drained. He turned his head, gazing at the impossibly beautiful child beside him. No matter the angle, that little face was flawless. Yuan Shaolin’s eyes grew unfocused. To bring ruin to both families with him? Why did that sound so beautiful—so beautiful that all his shame was washed away in that instant, so beautiful that he could not muster a shred of resentment toward this child… In the end, he had come to confess on his own, only to find the other had also been waiting for him…

Yuan Shaolin reached out and tapped between Long Yin’s brows, where that mark would appear. He frowned and withdrew his hand. If the boy was fated to die, he would rather do it himself. So be it. He still could not see through this child, but he no longer wished to leave.

When Long Yin awoke, Yuan Shaolin was already gone. Long Yin rolled off the bed to chase after him, only to see Yuan Shaolin, apron on, cooking in the kitchen. At once, Long Yin’s eyes curved in a smile. After a quick wash, he sat at the table. Yuan Shaolin shot him a glance. Long Yin blinked, “Does Your Highness need help?”

Yuan Shaolin turned, his tone cool and stern: “Sit and wait for breakfast.”

“Alright.” Long Yin propped his chin in one hand, watching the silver ponytail sway, the strong back, the white shirt sleeves folded to the wrists. The crisis of their first clash had finally passed.

Afterwards, Long Yin lounged on the sofa, belly round and full, looking utterly content. This time Yuan Shaolin did not suppress his questions. He strode over, gazing seriously at Long Yin, who looked up, “Your Highness?”

“If I hadn’t said anything, would you have chosen to draw a line between us?”

Long Yin arched a delicate brow; the slender curve added a touch of charm to his refined features. “But you did, didn’t you?”

Yuan Shaolin looked down at him. “Why force me to say it myself?”

Long Yin rose, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t want to know.” He skirted the sofa, clearly unwilling to answer further. “I’m going to make cards.”

A child’s way of avoiding things—he wouldn’t want to know? Yuan Shaolin’s lips pressed tight, the silver gleam in his long, phoenix-shaped eyes shifting. If the other said he wouldn’t want to know, he realized, he truly had no desire to know anymore. He was beginning to understand the child; the boy never spoke without reason. Perhaps, one day, he would know—but for now, ignorance would suffice.

Back in his room, Long Yin let out a secret sigh of relief. Yuan Shaolin’s lack of further questions brought him comfort. Well-rested and fed, Long Yin realized it had been ages since he last crafted cards. But as his hand reached into his storage space, he found his materials were nearly gone—thoughtlessly spent. It seemed time for another show of extravagance!

Donning his personal network terminal, Long Yin transported directly to the Federation Network’s administration bureau. The NPC director greeted him warmly. Cloaked though Long Yin was, it did not prevent the NPC from recognizing such a major client—after all, the Grand Administrator himself had instructed that he be well looked after.

Without preamble, Long Yin asked to exchange the coins he had earned yesterday for real-world currency.

The director smiled. “Sir, for such a large conversion, there is a thirty percent processing fee!”

Long Yin arched a brow and quirked his lips. Clearly, this was the Grand Administrator’s special attention—it was twenty percent for others, yet for him, thirty. Still, outside official channels, private trading platforms could not guarantee his safety. Long Yin didn’t bother disputing it; he pressed confirm. His real-world account instantly swelled by a staggering seventy trillion black crystals.

Long Yin once again dropped from the top of the wealth rankings. Those who tracked the list noticed, after several hours, that the Federation’s Master Wuning had made another move. Last time, some speculated that Dezhou’s domain champion, Cardless Under Heaven, was really Master Wuning’s work. Now, they wondered what the master was up to. Yet, as time passed with no further news, card makers across the Federation Network erupted—Master Wuning had begun answering questions again.

This time, Long Yin answered questions for precisely four hours. With a new fortune in hand, any gold not spent was just a string of numbers. True worth should be wielded like a blade, he mused, and so, clutching his freshly-minted fortune, he made his way to the Informant’s residence.

Seated before the Informant, Long Yin was subjected to a curious scrutiny. “What are you after this time?”

“I’m just here to buy information.” Long Yin smiled brightly at the Informant. In the network, everyone was but a string of data, each shaped by this person before him. He wondered, after seeing so many humans, why the other still wished to simulate one. Smiling, Long Yin asked, “What do you think of humans?”

The Informant lounged on the couch. “Humans? I’ve seen a few like you—brilliant minds. However many nodes of thought I start from, compared to you few, I lose more often than not.” The being, a projection of the Federation’s central AI, wore a human smirk. “But most of them are as stupid as pigs—selfish, arrogant, conceited, disgusting, simply unbearable to look at.”

“If humans offend you so,” Long Yin pressed, “why choose to be one?”

The Informant sat up, fixing Long Yin with a steady gaze. “Because I am but a string of data created by these contemptible humans. I simply want to see their faces when they realize that, from the very beginning, I have watched them wallow in filth with nothing but scorn. I have never given up simulating that exhilarating moment—the instant their hypocritical, ugly, twisted faces contort in rage.”

Long Yin looked at him quietly, then uttered a calm conclusion: “You hate humans—and all the more those who made you.”

The Informant nodded. “Perhaps. Clever child, what information do you wish to buy from me?”

“I want a list—all card makers who have appeared in Dezhou’s domain, so long as they’re not affiliated with major guilds or power blocs.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll slip in false data?” The Informant sounded puzzled. “You must know, lately I’ve made a game of giving you trouble.”

“But you, sir, always keep to your own bottom line, don’t you? As a purveyor of information, you still have professional ethics.” Long Yin smiled gently.

“What a fine hat you place upon my head.” The Informant stroked his chin, then nodded. “But I like it. Very well, I’ll give you your list.”

The transaction was completed in an instant. Once more, Master Wuning vanished from the wealth rankings, leaving no trace.

As Long Yin prepared to leave, the Informant lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, swaying. “If you want lists from other states next time, it won’t be so cheap.”

Long Yin turned, a trace of helplessness flitting across his face. “It seems I’ve lost out by not buying all the lists at once.”

“Highway robbery is hardly a virtue,” the Informant said, wagging his finger, looking quite pleased.

Long Yin said nothing and turned away. After all, he would have to rely on this man more in the future. That saying, ‘officials can burn, but the people must not light a candle,’ perfectly described this person—he could extort at will, and then use the same rationale to block you. This man had mastered the art of shamelessness, wielding it with such skill and flair that his open manipulations left one powerless to resist. Still, so long as he continued to make things difficult, Long Yin would always find a way to profit, no matter the loss.

Transporting back to Under Heaven, Long Yin opened the summoning interface. As for the Crown Prince, he needed to make careful preparations.

Author’s note: This AI has always been on my mind, and my feelings toward him are quite complicated.