The ordinary woman is always doing things, yet many more are left to be done. When nothing is done, nothing is left undone. This was wei wu wei, the dao of doing non-doing. There was no need for Daphne to scheme out how to better the foundations of her lessers, it would simply be with time. Everything would fall into place. Not that she expected any gratitude from them. When the best rulers achieve their purpose, and fulfill their aims, their subjects will say: “we did it ourselves”. Such was the way of things. Daphne was above such things, for to care about people’s approval was to be their prisoner. WIthin the walls of the Middle School was a vast estate at one with nature, with many groves and gazebos half-hidden by long, twisting lines of colorful hedges or old trees. Thus, even so close to the beating heart of the sect where young masters and misstocrats traded pointers with each other, it was easy to seclude oneself from sight. It was in one of these places that Daphne had brought her retinue. For hours now, she had been honing her body while her cousin watched dumbfounded. For one’s body to attain a jadelike quality, one had to do a thousand strikes with the fist, a thousand swings of a sword, and a thousand steps of a dance. After the first ten minutes, Tracey joined her in her exercise, though she struggled with it far less. Her physique was not bad at all, though still not perfect. This was merely physicality, not enough to reach the apex! Still, it was her best trait yet. “Lady Daphne,” Tracey asked with a slight pant, “why the sudden interest in fighting?” “What’s the harm in it?” Daphne asked. “It’s just … a woman such as yourself has knights and many followers to defend your honor,” she said. “You’re a lady of a house external,” Blaise added. “When would you ever need to fight?” “I am the lady of a margravate house,” Daphne replied. “When would I ever not need to fight? Our home is at the edge of two great regions long known for their enmity.” She turned to Tracey. “I have knights, but should one leave their fate solely in the hands of others?” One could not reach the heavens with that attitude. “Begging your pardon, Lady Daphne,” Tracey said, wiping away a trickle of sweat from her forehead, “but you were never interested in martial affairs last year. Why the sudden change?” “Were we ever so close before,” Daphne said, “that you can claim to have known me?” Tracey bowed her head. “I wouldn’t dare presume to be familiar with your esteemed self,” she said. “For someone like me, it is only prudent to take notes on those above myself.” There was certainly some wisdom there. To show others too much face, of course, could be just as detrimental to one’s cultivation, but Daphne was entirely deserving of this respect, and so she would spare Tracey’s cheeks from the sting of her palms. “Tall trees require deep roots,” Daphne said to her. How could one withstand the tribulation of the heavens if one’s foundation was lacking? How could greater pains be withstood if lesser pains could break your spirit? Suddenly, there was a rustling among the bushes. Daphne did not fear discovery, for there was nothing to hide. She only practiced here instead of the war yards so as to not incite the many toads to lust after her swan meat. Whoever was approaching would be kept away by her knight escorts outside. Her maid stepped forward, bringing her a cup of freshly steamed green tea. Daphne took a sip, taking a moment to appreciate its bittersweet aftertaste, before setting the cup back down. It was a great virtue of Maid to be so well-versed in the dao of tea. Though she did not have the potential to be a true cultivator, it was still important to better oneself. The dao of tea was one of the great walls that stood between civilization and anarchy! It’s trade, after all, was essential to the cultivation of arrogant young states, for how else would they reach the Empire realm? The flows of goods circulated along the river and road meridians and through the city cores? Only when a state mastered the dual cultivation of trade and war could their dao principle be established—the natural law by which all of society was ordered. The rustling only grew louder and closer, and a man strode into her clearing. He kept his hair short and trimmed, like a crown of gold perpetually atop his head. But most striking about him were his bright eyes like a pair of silver stars, and the porcelain complexion of his skin—smooth and without flaw. He must have been a man of some importance that her knights dared not bar his path to her. Blaise stood from his seat in an instant and bowed. “Your Excellency.” Daphne tipped her head towards the tall stranger dressed richly in silk and satin. “Your Excellency,” she murmured. Excellency was a title reserved for the sons and daughters of the Son of Heaven, and there was only one prince meant to be here. Hadrian. It was good that her cousin was present. Based solely on his cultivation, she might not have looked twice at him, though his pure yang body was not unpleasant to look at. Still, could a person with such average cultivation really be a prince? It was not that Daphne thought he was weak. In a fight between them as things stood, surely he would overpower her as the sun’s light enveloped the moon, but she had expected … more. Regardless, giving him face was only right and proper. “Pardon the intrusion,” Prince Hadrian said, “I heard strange noises and I admit my curiosity got the better of me.” From the corner of her eye, she could see her cousin Blaise giving her a sidelong glance. She was the highest ranked noble present, and thus the only one fit to address him. “There’s nothing to forgive, Your Excellency,” Daphne said. “My servant and I were merely training our bodies.” “I see,” he said, eyes darting to the livery stitched onto Maid’s uniform, seeing as Daphne had stripped off a few layers of her dress for this endeavor. Not enough to be indecent, of course! She would not bring shame to her family in that way. “Lady Greenglade, I presume?” “Daphne Greenglade, Your Excellency,” Daphne said, kowtowing in the way of these people—her hands went to the hems of her skirt as her right foot went behind her left. Then, slowly, she bent both knees evenly with an ease born of many hours of practice. “Please, rise,” Hadrian said. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Daphne. I’d not thought you would be attending this year after the … unpleasantness.” She was getting tired of answering that question, but courtesy required her to give face here. “It would take more than a little trouble to keep me away,” Daphne said. “Such resilience is admirable,” he said, smiling at her. “I shall not keep you from your training any longer. Until we meet again, Lady Daphne.” She kept studying his body with her awakened eyes as he departed, tracing the flow of his qi through his dantian cores. It really was quite average for a young master, and still at the qi condensation stage! How was it possible that a prince was not a genius among geniuses? Perhaps … perhaps he simply had not awakened his nine secret bloodlines yet, like Daphne? If that was the case, it was understandable why his cultivation was still at the level it was at. He wasn’t much older than herself after all. While it was rare that a clan patriarch would let their sons cultivate at their own pace, some were known to do so in the belief that difficulties on their path to heaven would only deepen the roots of their cultivation. Was it so here? The other possibility, of course, was that this was a realm where crouching tigers and hidden dragons were as common as clouds. It was not impossible for a powerful cultivator to obscure the true state of their strength from those beneath them, though Daphne knew of few people who would go out of their way to do so. Only the wandering masters were fond of this practice, and they were a strange sort of people whose whims were beyond comprehension.