“How old are you, brat?” asked the Shadow as Adrian sat in a lotus position, eyes closed.

To properly absorb the Bone Mending Elixir’s effects, he had to actively absorb the ambient Qi and temper his body with it. In the process, the elixir’s innate Qi would be released and absorbed to temper the bones.

Adrian ignored the Shadow and proceeded to absorb the Qi within the elixir.

“Answer me,” mumbled the Shadow and he repeated that phrase several hundred times within a minute, forcing Adrian to answer.

“What?!” he roared inside his head.

“How old are you?” asked the Shadow.

“You should know,” said Adrian as he slipped, accidentally saying that out loud.

“Days turn into years and years turn into centuries within my tomb, brat. I know not of your age,” it explained and Adrian grumbled underneath his breath.

“Sixteen,” thought Adrian, conjuring as much of an annoyed tone as he could.

“Yet you are so innocent,” it said and earned a glare from Adrian, which manifested in him glaring at his reflection in the window.

Glaring at one of his eyes was the equivalent of glaring at the Shadow, for the mirror took the place of an eye. At least that’s the effect he was going for.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he yelled inside his head.

“It means that you need a bride, as any boy your age should,” said the Shadow.

Bride?

“I have no need for them,” said Adrian, gritting his teeth.

He was interfering with his Cultivation about nonsense like this?

Ridiculous. Simply and utterly ridiculous!

“Perhaps not today, but what happens in a hundred years’ time? You dream of Perpetuity and if you have a bride to give birth to hundreds of children, once you are at the Nascent World Genesis Stage, you will have a Clan that can easily take down what you call armies on this measly continent,” said the Shadow.

Adrian tried to tune it out but it was inside his head: a most unwelcome place for random chatter to exist in.

“I have no intention of meddling in romantic affairs. It’s a waste of time,” Adrian roared at the mirror.

“It is beneficial for cultivation as well,” said the Shadow, but this time, his voice didn’t come from inside his head.

It came from the mirror.

Within the mirror’s reflection, Adrian could see the Shadow’s visage floating behind him but when he turned to look away, he found nothing in the real world.

It did say it’d be using a mirror, so perhaps mirrors that he looked at let the Shadow manifest within.

“Tell me, brat, have you heard of the Dual Cultivation Method?” it asked.

Everyone had heard of it at some point.

The vessel of the female became the cauldron and within it, the talents of both Cultivators would mingle and the dominant of the two Cultivators would retain both their own talent and half of the other, whereas the inferior would lose half of their talents.

It was a cruel and vile method.

“I’ll never engage in that,” hissed Adrian.

“But your talent is pathetic. How do you assume I’ve reached Immortality, child? You take advantage of the fools and never let your guard down. The Path of Dao is one that is cruel and you often have to resort to those vile methods you abhor,” said the Shadow.

“It’s a sign of weakness,” said Adrian, “Relying on another.”

“Yet you rely on me,” said the Shadow as its grin appeared. It was a portal on its body that led to a world of fire, “Hypocritical, aren’t you?”

“You’re different,” said Adrian, now a mere whisper.

“How so? Because I was promised your soul? Because I offended you?” it asked, now the same mocking tone he’d had in the cave in his voice.

There was no reason.

He couldn’t find a reason, let alone an excuse that wouldn’t make him sound bad.

“I am inside your head, brat. I know you better than you know yourself, it seems,” said the Shadow.

It started to cackle and it felt like it lasted for hours as Adrian froze in place, staring at the Shadow’s visage in the mirror. His eyes focused far too hard on him, as if he meant to kill it.

“Ah, Killing Intent. How refreshing?” it said.

“Shut up,” whispered Adrian.

“You’re on the verge of tears,” it mocked.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up-” mumbled Adrian like a mantra.

“You cannot hurt me, brat, so I will do as I please,” it said, the last part spoken word-by-word, with slight pauses between them to give emphasis to each word.

“Shut up!” roared Adrian and with one punch, shattered the mirror into a hundred pieces.

Fragments of the mirror embedded themselves deep into his flesh and drew blood.

Even when he hadn’t reached the Flesh Refinement Layer, simply being a Cultivator enhanced one’s durability to become as if it was made of wood. While glass could pierce through wood, it didn’t make it far.

It didn’t and thus, only a few droplets poured down onto the expensive rug that lay below the mirror, staining it red.

“Irritating, is it not?” it asked once again, now within his head.

Adrian didn’t answer this time.

“How does it feel? To be helpless? To wish to hurt another, but have no means to? To hear the ramblings of another with no means to cover your ears?” asked the Shadow.

It paused for a few seconds as an uneasy silence reigned supreme.

“This is what you are to me, brat. A thorn in my side that I can never remove. You worm your way into my side and treat me as if I am worse than dirt. And I could do nothing but agree. Know that I, too, can be to you what you are to me,” it said, its voice less mocking and more condescending now, “Know to respect your elders.”

He ignored it.

That’s when a series of loud thuds came from the door.

His father always knocked with the handle of his cane and this was the signature sound of that.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone,” said Adrian, loud enough for his father to hear from outside the door.

“You have a letter from the Beaumonts. Take it,” said Thomas, his voice slightly muffled by the door between them.

Letter?

“Ah, the princess makes her moves,” said the Shadow within his head.

Adrian walked over to the door and grabbed the envelope from his father’s hands, who was dressed in his formal attire. There was little difference between what he wore at home and what he wore for business and it all came down to whether he wore a jacket over his shirt or none at all.

At home, he wore none. For business, he wore a heavy trench coat over a jacket or simply a brown jacket that went with his brown dress pants. It had square patterns over it, which the other merchants saw as the attire of a show-off.

That would be correct, too, for Thomas Anderson was a show-off.

One of the best, or rather, worst, in fact.

“Do not embarrass me,” said Thomas and he sharply turned to leave, “You are allowed to use Fifty Green Crystals from the treasury. Buy the most expensive treasures.”

Allowed to use Green Crystals?

One of them could buy houses!

Not mansions like their own, as those cost three.

“What did you mean?” Adrian thought to the Shadow after slamming his door shut.

He needed something to vent out his frustration on, and it happened to be the door and the mirror. The rage from before was reduced but it wasn’t fully gone yet.

The insignia of House Beaumont, the shape of a sword stabbed into the carcass of a lion, was on the seal.

He slid the letter out of the envelope and unfolded the paper.

It invited him to the Imperial Auction House’s newest auction, but it wasn’t from the Auction House itself.

Rather, it was from Emma Beaumont.

Only Nobles were allowed to participate in the Imperial Auction House’s auctions. It meant that no matter how rich one was if they weren’t a Noble, they weren’t allowed to participate at all.

If a Noble invited you, on the other hand, it was possible. No one had invited his father to date, for it was an unofficial message to the public. It meant that those invited were almost a part of the family.

In short, it meant that they were engaged.

“This is ridiculous,” said Adrian.

Turning someone down was bad for his father’s name and showing off would make the Merchant Sect vomit blood for not allowing him in.

“You are already old enough,” encouraged the Shadow.

“If I accept this invitation, then I’ll be a part of House Beaumont. It’s a bad offer,” said Adrian.

“All those resources, within your reach,” said the Shadow, “You have nothing to lose. Only they do.”

He wouldn’t be losing anything, for most marriages into a Noble House was more along the lines of becoming a vassal of theirs.

Initially, Adrian was planning on winning the status of a vassal from the tournament and then giving the title to his father, but if he agreed to this, then he would be the vassal rather than his father.

It choked his freedom.

But he was aiming for the top and he needed to take shortcuts, both to prove the Shadow wrong and to reach Perpetuity.

He stared at the letter in his hand and rubbed his forehead.

It just made his life a lot more complicated.