Chapter 84: White Wax?

Li Wenhao dared not act presumptuously before the patriarch of the Mu family. Not just him—even the current heads of the four great families would bow respectfully and sincerely address him as “Elder” upon meeting him. As for Li Wenhao, a mere junior, there was even less room for arrogance.

Back then, Li Wenhao had taken a risk, hoping to win Mu Qingcheng over. If he could force the matter and make things a fait accompli, the patriarch, no matter how angry, would have no choice but to acquiesce. Later, when Ling Tian gave Li Wenhao a brutal beating, the Li family did not dare retaliate. There were two reasons for this: first, Ling Tian’s background remained a mystery; second—and most crucial—they feared the Mu family’s retribution.

Although the Mu family was not what it once was, a dying camel is still bigger than a horse. Should the Mu family truly decide to strike back, even if the Lis emerged victorious, it would be a costly win. The other great families, ever watchful and hungry for opportunity, would then descend and devour the Li family whole.

After some investigation, the Li family concluded that Mu Qingcheng had not told the patriarch about what happened. They decided to approach the matter through proper channels: have Li Wenhao formally visit, foster a connection between respectable families, and when the time was ripe, formally propose marriage. In this way, they could eventually seize full control over the Mu family’s assets.

To Li Wenhao, the greatest threat was Ling Tian, who possessed remarkable skills and always acted with calm decisiveness. Judging by recent events, Ling Tian and Mu Qingcheng remained close.

Thus, Li Wenhao wanted to undermine Ling Tian at the very least—to see him lose face before the patriarch.

For Li Wenhao, this was a simple task. In his eyes, alliances between great families hinged solely on strength.

“Grandfather, let me brew you a cup of Pre-Rain Dragon Well tea,” Li Wenhao said ingratiatingly.

Before Li Wenhao could move, the patriarch waved him off with a slight gesture and said, “Don’t call me grandfather. Our relationship is not that close.” He had no regard for spoiled youths like Li Wenhao.

Li Wenhao forced a sheepish smile and hurriedly corrected himself, “Then I shall call you sir.”

The patriarch offered no reply. His eyes, half-closed, rested on the box Ling Tian had brought forth.

Li Wenhao gritted his teeth, stepped toward Ling Tian, picked up the box and scrutinized it, his face full of mockery. “What sort of gift is this? You wouldn’t even pay five yuan for this at a street stall. It’s not that I’m dissatisfied with the price, but a gift’s value reflects the respect one holds.”

With that, he glanced toward the patriarch.

The patriarch said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard a word Li Wenhao had spoken.

“A gift is merely a token of one’s heart,” Ling Tian replied calmly. “If it is given with sincerity, even a cup of pure water is more precious than gold.” He disdained Li Wenhao’s habit of measuring everything by money, as if, to Li Wenhao, everything could be weighed in gold.

The patriarch nodded approvingly at this.

Li Wenhao bristled, unwilling to concede. “You talk big for someone who brings such a worthless thing. If you have the nerve, open it and show us what’s inside.”

The room fell silent. Mu Qingcheng worried that whatever Ling Tian had brought would prove lackluster, opening him up to further ridicule. She did not worry for her grandfather—she knew that, with his character, he would accept even a cup of plain water with a smile. But she felt a pang of regret for not preparing a more precious gift herself and sparing Ling Tian this embarrassment.

It was her own negligence to blame.

“Afraid to open it? Let me do it for you,” Li Wenhao said, gloating.

“Your hands are too filthy; you’d only taint what’s inside,” Ling Tian retorted with disdain, shooting Li Wenhao a cold look before opening the box himself. As he lifted the lid, Li Wenhao craned his neck to look, and nearly burst out laughing.

“What a worthless thing!” Li Wenhao peered into the box for a long moment, finally confirming that it contained only wax—a thick layer of white wax, with some indistinct shadows beneath it, impossible to make out.

Mu Qingcheng clenched her fists in nervousness. Seeing Ling Tian mocked so, she felt a pang of bitterness. If only she had prepared something valuable, he wouldn’t have had to endure this awkwardness.

It was all her fault for not thinking ahead.

“I’d say you’d best throw this out before you embarrass yourself further,” Li Wenhao jeered, tears of laughter streaming down his face. At last, he’d managed to one-up Ling Tian.

Ling Tian remained silent, smiling faintly, regarding Li Wenhao as one might watch a clown perform.

The patriarch glanced inside the box and only smiled, intending to have a servant take the gift away so as to spare Ling Tian any further embarrassment. Suddenly, a faint, intoxicating fragrance drifted to him. He quickly bent over the box and, upon spotting a subtle dark shape within the thick white wax, his breathing grew heavy and his eyes shone with excitement.

It was as though a wine lover had caught the scent of a rare vintage.

“Ling Tian, this gift may appear ordinary, but it contains hidden wonders,” the patriarch said, stroking his beard with a smile.

Mu Qingcheng assumed her grandfather was simply offering Ling Tian a way out, speaking diplomatically. She paid it little mind.

Li Wenhao thought the same, and so he said, “Sir, it’s just a box of wax. If you like, I’ll have a whole cartload sent to you at once.”

Hearing this, the patriarch regarded Li Wenhao with even greater indifference. This boy understood nothing—apart from his looks, he possessed not a shred of substance.

“Ling Tian, take it out for us. I wish to confirm a suspicion,” the patriarch said, his gaze expectant. When Ling Tian had opened the box, the faint fragrance had already given him a clue. But until he saw for himself, he dared not be certain.

Mu Qingcheng watched her grandfather in curiosity, wondering: He’s always been a strange old man, rarely interested in anything. What could possibly be in that box to excite him so?

Ling Tian carefully pressed his finger into the white wax, gently tapping it. A pearl-sized sphere popped free from the wax and landed in his palm. Everyone crowded closer for a look and saw a small ball wrapped in silver foil. Li Wenhao remained unimpressed, while Mu Qingcheng’s curiosity only deepened.

The patriarch stood, his eyes fixed intently on the ball in Ling Tian’s hand. It was clear he had guessed what it was.

Ling Tian unwrapped the silver foil and produced a small, dark-red sphere, which he handed to the patriarch. “Grandfather, I think you’ll be very fond of this.”

The normally composed old man snatched it up like a child grabbing for candy, brought it to his nose, inhaled deeply, and wore a look of utter rapture. “It’s exquisite. And you, young man, are truly most capable,” the patriarch exclaimed, full of admiration.