Chapter 15: Inspecting the Business

The heavy gate of the Zhao residence creaked open.

As Zhao Yi stepped over the threshold, he immediately sensed something amiss. It was too quiet—unnervingly, eerily quiet. The servants who usually bustled about to welcome guests were nowhere to be seen, as if they had collectively vanished into thin air.

A familiar, bone-chilling murderous aura radiated from the depths of the courtyard, locking onto him with lethal precision. Zhao Yi looked up, tracing the source of the hostility.

In the center of the courtyard stood his father, Zhao Zhao, the Minister of War and Earl of Anbei. He was dressed in a sturdy training tunic, and in his hands, he brandished a gleaming, fearsome horse-chopping saber. The blade reflected the moonlight with a sinister coldness that perfectly matched the thunderous, pitch-black expression on his father’s face.

Zhao Yi halted his steps. Good grief. This display was identical to the last time his father had decided to "clean house."

Zhao Zhao said nothing, his eyes burning with a fire that seemed colder than the winds of the Northern Frontier and sharper than an arrow wound. Zhao Yi stood his ground, showing not a hint of panic; he even took a moment to adjust his collar. He began to walk toward his father, unhurried and composed. With every step, the tension in the air grew thicker.

Finally, he stopped three paces away from Zhao Zhao. Before he could utter a word, his father’s pent-up rage exploded.

"You son of a bitch!" The roar was like a tolling bell, causing the leaves in the courtyard to tremble. "I’ll kill your ancestors!"

Zhao Zhao slammed the heavy saber into the ground with a resounding *clack*, cracking the stone paving beneath it. He pointed a trembling finger at Zhao Yi’s nose, spittle flying as he shouted, "I gave you twenty thousand taels of silver! That was for you to handle serious business, not for you to go listen to songs at the Bai Le Pavilion! You prodigal beast! If I don't break your legs today, I’m not a Zhao!"

Zhao Yi casually picked at his ear, letting his father’s roar echo around him. Only when Zhao Zhao ran out of breath and began to heave, unable to continue his tirade, did Zhao Yi speak in a leisurely tone.

"Father," he said, wearing an expression of wounded innocence. "How could you think such things of me? You didn't even ask what I was doing before you came at me with a blade? In your eyes, is your son really the kind of person who takes money and neglects his duties? My heart is truly chilled."

Zhao Zhao was momentarily stunned by this sudden reversal. "Your heart is chilled? I saw you with my own eyes coming out of the Bai Le Pavilion! You still want to quibble?"

"I’m not quibbling," Zhao Yi said, spreading his hands with a look of pure innocence. "I did go to the Bai Le Pavilion, but I was there to conduct market research."

"Market research?" Zhao Zhao laughed in sheer disbelief, as if he had heard the most ridiculous joke on earth. "You go to a brothel to conduct market research? Why don't you tell me you went to the latrine to inspect the catering?"

"Father, your thinking is outdated," Zhao Yi said, his expression turning inscrutable. He stepped forward and lowered his voice, acting like a mystic revealing heavenly secrets. "What does a place like the Bai Le Pavilion represent? It is the pinnacle of the entertainment industry in our capital! What do I want to do? I want industrial upgrading! I want to achieve a dimensional strike!"

The string of jargon left Zhao Zhao completely bewildered. He stared at his son, forgetting to even lift his saber. What industry? What strike? What kind of wild nonsense was this boy spouting?

Seeing his father was hooked, Zhao Yi pressed his advantage. "Father, let me ask you. Do you prefer the way it is now—a bunch of men crowded into a hall, listening to a girl sing on stage, noisy as a vegetable market?" He spoke with clear disdain. "Or..." His voice shifted, dripping with temptation. "Would you prefer a place with an elegant environment and refined decor?"

"As soon as you walk in, pretty girls in matching uniforms call you 'Master' in voices as sweet as honey. They lead you into a private, quiet room filled with the scent of sandalwood."

Zhao Zhao’s Adam’s apple bobbed uncontrollably.

Zhao Yi continued to paint the alluring picture. "In the room, the lights are soft, and soothing music plays. You lie down on a plush bed, and a professional female technician enters, carrying a faint, pleasant fragrance. She uses the most professional massage techniques to soothe your muscles and ease your fatigue. While she works, she whispers in your ear in a voice that would make your very bones melt. Father, tell me, which of these two places would you rather visit?"

Zhao Zhao’s breathing had grown heavy. He had never experienced anything like this. As he listened to his son’s description, a vivid image formed in his mind. The sensation... *hiss*.

"Nonsense!" Zhao Zhao blurted out without a second thought. "Obviously the one you just described! That goes without saying!"

The corner of Zhao Yi’s mouth curled upward. He knew the fish had taken the bait.

"So, do you prefer listening to songs downstairs with everyone else, or being in a dim room with a beautiful technician massaging you while she softly calls you 'brother'?"

Zhao Zhao’s reason had been completely washed away by the vision. He answered instantly, "Of course I prefer being called 'brother'!"

"Perfect."

Zhao Yi’s smile turned brilliant. He turned sharply toward the shadows behind him and shouted, "Mother! You heard everything, didn't you?"

The words had barely left his lips when Zhao Zhao’s body stiffened. His expression shifted from shock to bewilderment, then to panic, and finally settled into sheer terror. His neck felt like a rusted gear as he turned, inch by agonizing inch.

There stood his wife, Zhao Yi’s mother, Lady Liu. And in her hand... she was brandishing a heavy rolling pin. The gentle smile on her face looked far more terrifying than the saber Zhao Zhao had been holding.

Zhao Zhao’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. He looked back at his son, only to see Zhao Yi wearing a pure, innocent, harmless smile. In that instant, Zhao Zhao understood everything.

A trap! From beginning to end, this unfilial son had set a trap for him! A chill shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He pointed at Zhao Yi, his lips trembling, a beast-like growl emanating from his throat.

"You... you really are a piece of work!"

Lady Liu walked forward with a benevolent smile, tapping the rolling pin against her palm. "My dear," she said, her voice dripping with lethal sweetness. "Come, let us return to our chambers. We have much to discuss—about which little enchantress is so eager to call you 'brother'?"

Watching his wife, who hid a blade behind her smile, and his treacherous son, who looked on with glee, Zhao Zhao felt the world go black. He was dragged off toward the back courtyard by his ear, howling in despair. As he was hauled away, he cast one final, vengeful, and desperate glare at Zhao Yi.

*Just you wait!*