Weapon seller in the world of magic-Chapter 742: A Father

A while later, the two of them walked side by side along the frost-paved paths that led back toward the Ice Palace.

Neither of them spoke at first, the silence stretching comfortably rather than awkwardly.

Zetian was the one who eventually broke it.

"May I ask you something?" he said, his tone careful.

Shang Jiao glanced at him briefly and nodded. "Go ahead."

He hesitated, choosing his words. "Why the change in attitude?"

He let out a small, self-conscious breath. "For the past few days, whenever I tried to talk to you, you either brushed me off or gave short answers. And now..." He gestured vaguely between them. "Now you’re talking to me like a friend. I don’t dislike it, of course, but I’m curious."

He looked at her more directly. "Is it because you felt pity for me? Because of my bloodline?" 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

His voice softened. "I’ve seen those reactions before. Once people learn the truth, it’s usually one of three things. Pity. Respect. Or scorn."

They continued walking, their footsteps crunching softly on frost.

Shang Jiao shook her head slowly. "No. It’s not that."

She stopped for a moment, then resumed walking at an unhurried pace. "I don’t pity you."

Zetian blinked, surprised.

"I acknowledge your strength," she continued plainly. "That’s all."

She glanced sideways at him. "You fought seriously. You pushed yourself even when you knew the risks. And you didn’t hide behind your status."

After a brief pause, she added, "Also... you’re not like most princes."

Zetian raised an eyebrow. "That’s not exactly comforting."

She snorted lightly. "I mean it in a good way. You don’t have that hollow arrogance that people like your uncle Lei Fenghyun carry around. You were a prick, though," she said bluntly, "especially with your comments."

He coughed. "Fair."

"But," she went on, "I could tell you weren’t looking down on me. You were testing me. That’s different."

They walked a few more steps before she spoke again, her tone more serious.

"As for why I ignored you before... You already know the answer." She looked straight ahead. "There’s tension between the palace and us. You’re the Emperor’s eldest grandson and the palace’s representative. How could I not be wary of you?"

Zetian exhaled slowly, a bitter smile forming beneath his mask. "To be honest... I didn’t come here voluntarily either."

Shang Jiao looked at him this time.

"My grandfather," he said quietly, correcting himself mid-sentence, "His Majesty... he chose me. I was sent here as a replacement for Uncle Fenghyun. A hostage, more or less."

His voice was calm, but there was a tired edge beneath it. "At least Uncle could move back and forth between here and home. I can’t."

He paused, then added with a faint shrug, "But it’s still better than staying at the imperial palace. There, I constantly have to endure the looks, the whispers, the unspoken contempt from my own family."

Shang Jiao didn’t reply immediately.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, several thoughts crossing her mind at once. The image of an imperial prince, powerful and talented, yet quietly cast aside, didn’t quite fit the picture she had grown up imagining.

After a moment, she said, "Then I guess we’re not so different."

Zetian looked at her in surprise.

"I didn’t choose to be here either, but have to stay due to some unexplainable reasons," she continued.

She then looked ahead toward the towering silhouette of the Ice Palace. "If you’re staying here, then at least don’t think of yourself as just a hostage."

He smiled faintly. "And what should I think of myself as?"

She glanced away. "Well, you can consider yourself as my fri... well... sparring partner."

Zetian laughed softly, the sound carrying lightly through the cold air. "I guess that’s not bad at all."

They continued walking toward the palace.

Three days later, the inner courtyard of the Ice Palace was filled with laughter instead of cold silence.

Lu Shan was running in wide circles across the frost-carved tiles, his small boots kicking up glittering snowflakes as Mark chased after him with exaggerated movements. Each time Mark pretended to almost catch him, Lu Shan squealed with laughter and darted away, his violet eyes shining with excitement.

"Papa, you’re too slow!" Lu Shan shouted proudly.

Mark laughed and shook his head. "You little rascal. You think I can’t catch you?" Yet, he didn’t increase his speed. Just acting like a normal dad who couldn’t catch his little son.

Nearby, Shen Yi was racing back and forth like a streak of light, her tiny feet moving far faster than her size suggested. Every now and then, she stumbled, only to pick herself up again and keep running, completely fearless. Shen Ling watched her closely, ready to intervene, but couldn’t stop smiling.

"She’s getting faster every day," Shen Ling said calmly. "At this rate, the guards won’t be able to keep up with her."

Song Yue chuckled as she sat on the stone bench beside them. "She takes after her father. Always moving here and there, always restless."

Mark glanced back at them while lifting Lu Shan into the air, spinning him once before setting him down again. "Hey, I want to stay in peace, but the world doesn’t let me. What to do. Something just keeps happening in my life again and again..."

Lu Shan burst into laughter again and tried to escape, only to be gently grabbed by Song Yue this time.

A little farther away, beneath the shade of an ice-sculpted pavilion, Sylvandria stood quietly. She was holding both elven twins in her arms, one cradled against each side of her chest. Faenya and Kaelen were awake but calm, their small fingers gripping her sleeves as if afraid to let go.

Her expression was complicated.

She was happy. Truly happy. She was finally part of this family, no longer standing at the edges or hiding in silence. Watching Mark laugh freely, seeing Song Yue and Shen Ling talk without tension, and seeing the children play together filled her heart with warmth.

Yet, there was sadness, too.

Because she couldn’t join them.

The elven twins were different. Their bloodline was ancient and pure, and with it came limitations.

Even though they were already eleven months old and had reached the second circle of cultivation, their bodies were still fragile. They couldn’t stand properly, couldn’t walk, and spent nearly twenty hours a day asleep. When awake, they needed constant care.

More than that, they couldn’t be separated.

If Faenya and Kaelen were more than a few meters apart, they would immediately begin to cry, their small faces contorting in panic as if something essential had been torn away. It was as though an invisible bond connected them, one that even Sylvandria couldn’t fully explain.

So she stood there, holding both of them, gently rocking back and forth.

Mark noticed her eventually.

He paused his game and looked toward her, his smile softening. For a moment, their eyes met. Sylvandria returned the smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Song Yue followed his gaze and understood immediately. She said nothing, only giving Sylvandria a warm look that carried reassurance rather than pity.

Around the courtyard, several guards stood at attention. They had been assigned to protect the area, but most of them were distracted, stealing glances at the scene unfolding before them.

This was the man who had dared to declare independence.

The man who had defeated the former patriarch in open combat.

The man who had stood against the Emperor without fear.

And yet, here he was.

Laughing.

Running.

Letting his children climb on his back and tug at his robes.

To the guards, it felt strange. Almost unreal.

But at the same time, it was admirable.

They realized that this was not a weakness. This was the kind of strength that could only come from someone who had nothing left to prove.

As the laughter echoed softly through the icy courtyard, the palace felt less like the seat of a powerful sect... and more like a home.

The laughter in the courtyard slowly faded as Lan Xia approached, a slim jade scroll held carefully in her hands. The soft crunch of snow beneath her boots drew Mark’s attention first.

Lu Shan was in the middle of climbing onto Mark’s back when Mark felt the familiar shift in the air. He straightened and glanced over, immediately noticing the scroll.

"Alright, alright," Mark said with a smile, gently setting Lu Shan down. "Go play with your sister for a bit. Papa will be right back."