Ziye froze for a second, then fury flared; this was too much! How could he hang up without saying a word? She decisively dialed the number back. This time, Tang Wen answered quickly, as if he had been waiting specifically for her call.

Ziye complained, "You absolute scoundrel, Tang, can you possibly be any more shameless?"

The great scoundrel Tang looked displeased. "Since you don't care about me anyway, there's no need for communication."

Ziye suddenly had the urge to punch him. She snapped, "How could I not care about you? It's one thing for you to play disappearing acts, but to toy with me like this—what is the meaning of it? Either you return Little Sprout to me and get out of my sight, or stop this nonsense with me!"

Tang Wen had been quite pleased when he heard the first sentence, but his expression grew darker with every word that followed. When Ziye finished, he looked genuinely wronged. "I watched your match live. I just... I just... Fine. I’ll mail Little Sprout to you tomorrow."

For some reason, Ziye’s heart clenched painfully. She had absolutely no defense against her handsome older brother putting on that expression. She sighed in frustration. "As long as you don't mistreat it, it can stay and play with you for a few days."

Tang Wen’s eyes lit up. "Really?"

Ziye instantly felt the urge to take back her words, but before she could speak, Little Sprout popped out, its eyes welling up with tears. "Ziye, little dummy, are you abandoning me?"

Ziye rolled her eyes at it. "Who was it that insisted on going with him, even if it meant being strung up and tormented? Who was telling me he was the great devil Tang while abandoning me?"

Little Sprout’s eyes widened, then it leaped up happily, flapping its wings and gesticulating wildly. "So you really do care about me! I’m so happy!"

Ziye: ...

Little Sprout spun beautifully in the light screen. "Since you care about me so much, I suppose I should go back and keep you company."

Tang Wen reached out and caught Little Sprout, giving Ziye a slight smile. "In that case, perhaps we should come watch your championship final match then."

So, after all that fuss, Tang Wen just wanted to tell her he would be there to watch her final match.

Ziye pursed her lips into a smile; the gloom that had settled on her for days finally lifted. Tang Wen did remember her after all.

She asked cheerfully, "What have you been busy with lately? Is the Tang Clan fun?"

Tang Wen’s eyes sparkled brightly. "You want to come visit?"

To be honest, Ziye always thought the Tang Clan was a mysterious place—they had their own territory, immense power, yet they were like water seeping into the ocean; no one knew exactly where they were, yet they were omnipresent.

She was intensely curious about such a noble house, but she didn't dare approach them lightly.

After thinking it over, she finally shook her head. "Perhaps not."

Tang Wen didn't press the issue. After chatting briefly, they ended the hyperspeed call, and he settled back onto the recliner, lazily basking in the sun.

Currently, the only person he had truly brought back to the Tang Clan was Brantley.

As the Crown Prince of the Tang Clan, Tang Wen never lacked attendants wherever he went. When Tang Wen didn't allow them to serve him, he spent his leisure time relaxing in the garden, listening to Blan play the cello, and when busy, plotting with Blan on how to deal with Bai Lanxue.

In short, he was living a carefree life, showing absolutely no inclination toward inheriting the family legacy.

Blan watched from the side, shaking his head slightly.

He could still recall the scene vividly from the day they returned to Tang Clan headquarters.

When the shuttle docked on the landing platform, nearly every prominent figure in the Tang Clan was lined up before it, awaiting his return.

He remembered the look on Tang Wen's father's face—a flicker of surprise instantly masked by restraint—and the way his mother rushed forward to embrace him.

But Tang Wen merely smiled faintly, not uttering a single word.

His mother had nearly wept.

Sometimes, Blan felt he couldn't understand Tang Wen at all.

He couldn't fathom why he would coldly abandon this entire family to pursue his own pleasures.

Yet, when he saw Tang Wen sleeping before him like a carefree child, his heart inevitably softened.

Tang Wen did this for Tang Shan, Blan knew that much.

To understand Tang Shan's past, to investigate what had happened to him in the Interstellar Federation, and the circumstances of his death. Returning to the Tang Clan now meant he had uncovered the truth and was preparing for revenge on Tang Shan’s behalf.

After Tang Wen settled in, the Clan Master came, and the two engaged in a deep discussion in the study, while Madam Tang waited anxiously in the living room. Little Sprout, meanwhile, was left on the living room furniture, in standby mode, listlessly flattened against his shoulder, sound asleep.

No one noticed that it had quietly filmed Madam Tang’s appearance.

Blan was attending to Madam Tang; having grown accustomed to serving Tang Wen, serving Madam Tang was no challenge.

However, Madam Tang seemed slightly unsettled this time, asking with urgency, "Wen'er, is he well out there?"

Blan answered concisely, "Very well."

Madam Tang asked again, "Does he have any enemies, is that why he returned?"

Blan was about to shake his head, but then considered that it was true, and nodded.

Madam Tang gasped. "Who?"

Blan preferred not to stir up trouble. "It has already been resolved."

—In reality, the reason Tang Wen returned to the Tang Clan was that Tang Shan had five students. Except for one who started their own venture and another who became a designer for the Fia Noble House, three remained within the Tang Clan. These three might not be as simple as they seemed.

Madam Tang let out a slight breath of relief. "As expected, my son is quite capable."

Blan chimed in, "Extremely capable."

Madam Tang looked at the closed study door and sighed silently. Turning back, she saw Blan’s gentle expression, showing not a hint of impatience. Suddenly realizing something, she said, "Sit down."

Blan inclined himself. "I dare not."

Madam Tang didn't insist, instead sitting up straighter. "Is he getting along well with a girl named Ziye?"

She was a beautiful woman, once a famous star. Though her youth had faded, under the nurturing environment of the Tang Clan, she had transformed perfectly from a celebrity into the most dignified matriarch. The simplest cut could create the most profound presence; seated there, her elegance seemed innate.

Even though she was currently just a mother concerned for her son, it didn't detract from her aura; rather, it lent her a touch of warmth.

Even Blan, who had dealt with elite soldiers and weathered countless skirmishes with various federal dignitaries, felt a sense of awe in her presence.

The moment she asked that question, Blan knew she had thoroughly investigated Tang Wen’s life. He decided not to conceal anything. "Yes, Ziye is his student."

Madam Tang then inquired, "What do you think of Ziye?"

Blan’s heart jumped. "In what capacity?"

Madam Tang smiled faintly. "In every capacity."

Blan answered truthfully, "Student Ziye possesses extremely high natural talent in mecha, she is a raw material worth cultivating."

Madam Tang said coolly, "And in other aspects?"

Blan knew exactly what Madam Tang was implying, but how much she had discovered was her own business. Adhering to the code of honor, he only stated, "I do not know her well in other areas, so I dare not speak carelessly."

Madam Tang looked up at him, and he gave a slight nod, stepping back to the side.

Madam Tang was silent for a long moment, then struck again. "Does Wen'er like her?"

Blan: ...

—Could he possibly answer this question?!

Discussing which girl his son liked was Tang Wen’s right to share with his parents; Blan could not overstep his bounds!

Blan felt profoundly distressed. Tang Wen, hurry up and come out. Being questioned like this by your mother puts me in an impossible position.

Madam Tang's gaze was sharp enough; seeing his expression of constipated discomfort, she dropped the line of questioning, murmuring instead, "As a mother, I am delighted that Wen'er has a girl he likes. However, how can a girl neglect her appearance? If she doesn't dress up, how can she be worthy of my Wen'er?"

Blan suddenly felt an impulse to complain again. The inability to dress up isn't the main issue, is it?

For the first time, he thought that the mental architecture of women and men truly differed. Really!

Blan felt like he was standing on pins and needles outside, his eyes scanning the distance, wishing Tang Wen would emerge sooner. Yet, Tang Wen seemed locked in a deep conversation with his father, the door remaining stubbornly closed for ages.

Just as Blan was contemplating a tactical retreat to use the restroom, Madam Tang spoke again, her tone perfectly level. "As a mother, I am grateful to you, for always staying by his side, helping him, protecting him. Do you know? For a time, I envied you—I envied that the person accompanying him was you, and not me."

Blan froze, then sighed. "Madam Tang, hello. Mr. Tang Wen saved me from hardship; he pulled me out of a difficult situation. I am willing to repay him with my life. You hold an unparalleled position in his heart as his mother, please rest assured."

That statement sounded as if Madam Tang possessed vast riches but was arguing over scraps with a beggar.

Madam Tang shot him a sidelong glance.

Blan immediately knew he had spoken out of turn and dared not say another word, standing ramrod straight, pretending to be a pillar.

Little Sprout nudged his back occasionally behind him, a gentle tap, barely more than an itch. He wanted to reach back and grab Little Sprout, but he didn't want to earn a reputation for fooling around in front of Madam Tang, so he endured it.

One minute felt excruciatingly long. Blan was silently counting, and finally, after the tenth minute of sixty, the study door opened. Clan Master Tang emerged first, his face showing neither joy nor disappointment.

Madam Tang rushed forward anxiously. "Well?"

The moment Blan saw them emerge, he knew his duty was done and swiftly retreated, leaving the space open for the family discussion. However, Clan Master Tang said nothing, only: "Whatever he wishes to do, let him do it."

Madam Tang was about to press further, but Tang Wen walked out behind his father. Madam Tang opened her mouth to speak, but Tang Wen gently touched his mother's cheek. "Good girl, don't ask."

Madam Tang’s expression instantly shifted. "You rascal! I’m your mother!"

Tang Wen smiled sweetly. "Mom, don't be like that. Don't you have a fashion show tomorrow? You should hurry and prepare."

This was clearly a hint for her to leave. Madam Tang stamped her foot angrily and turned away.

Clan Master Tang looked back at his son once, then turned and left as well.

Hoo. Tang Wen exhaled silently, then drawled lazily, "Blan, I need a bath."

Blan from outside...

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