Chapter 11

Cyrus calmly recounted his small adventure with the basilisk while throwing in some comments about the supposed 'memory inheritance'. Across from him, his mother showed varying expressions on her youthful face, entertaining Cyrus in the process. Despite not speaking much, her animated expressions more than made up for her lack of verbal communication.

Shortly into their conversation, a servant arrived and knocked on the door. After receiving permission to enter, the middle-aged servant pushed a cart topped with a tea set and some simple snacks and pastries into the room. He looked rather weak and unassuming, but Cyrus sensed the uniquely turbid fluctuations of a low-level Foundation Establishment cultivator from him.

Without speaking, the servant nimbly placed a few small plates of crepes, cookies, and some unfamiliar pastries on the tabletop. From there, he brewed tea from the leaves of an uncommon mint-shaped spiritual plant and boiled it using a magical flame within his palm.

Cyrus raised his brow at the level of flame control the man displayed simply for brewing tea. How extravagant… not that he could say anything when he had done crazier things to pull out amusing reactions from both NPC's and players alike over the years.

After brewing the tea, the servant poured a cup for each of them. Then, he silently bowed and left the room.

Noticing the bare minimum amount of servility in the servant's actions, Cyrus briefly wondered whether the standing of this mother of his was low within the Gu Family or if the servant's standing was higher than the average servant. It could even be a mixture of both.

Since the servant's attitude did not affect him much either way, he shrugged and tasted the tea. To his surprise, he felt the warmth of a surprisingly noticeable trace of natural wood element Qi within the liquid. Since he preferred to avoid elemental practices, he simply let the wood-element Qi run its course within his body as a natural relaxant. In terms of taste, it somewhat reminded him of chamomile mixed with honey and mint.

"Not bad."

The woman smiled ever so slightly. Otherwise, she only responded with a small nod.

Setting the cup down, Cyrus picked up the previous conversation by saying, "Anyway, I already told you most of what happened that I can currently remember. Anything I skipped is either irrelevant or not something I'm aware of yet."

"...I'm glad you came back in one piece, Yangde."

Cyrus glanced at the woman with one eyebrow slightly raised. Thinking about the fact that her Gu Yangde had already dissipated into nutrients for the bronze basilisk made him feel pity for the woman, but he refrained from otherwise showing it.

'I'll just take care of her as a good son in exchange. Good trade, in my opinion.'

Setting aside his thoughts, Cyrus simply replied, "Me too."

The woman giggled for a moment, but then stopped and gave him a strange look. She shifted uncomfortably as though hesitating, but then cautiously asked, "Are you really my Yangde?"

'Is this intuition, perhaps?'

Cyrus stopped with his cup halfway to his lips. His gaze focused on the woman's anxious brownish hazel eyes. He then slowly set down his cup while asking in a serious tone, "What would you do if I wasn't?"

The woman's eyes narrowed. Her small hand clenched her skirt. A turbulent Qi suddenly emanated from her body. The dishes on the table rattled. The tea rippled.

Maintaining a stoic expression, Cyrus observed the chaotic energy ripples and noted, 'She is somewhere in the higher layers of Foundation Establishment, but let's see her response before I make any moves. Ideally, I would love to make her an ally who is more aware of my situation than others despite the risks involved.'

A few seconds later, the woman's glare softened. As her Qi settled down, she quietly mumbled, "I… don't know."

"...I see. Well, 'I don't know' is my answer to your question as well."

The woman's brow wrinkled in response.

"...What do you mean?"

"To be honest, I'm telling you this because you seem like a kind woman, and I'd prefer not to hurt you if I can avoid it, so I'm ripping off the bandage now while you've provided the opportunity."

The woman's eyebrows lowered with confusion.

"Anyway," Cyrus continued, "from my experience, there are two possibilities:"

He paused, raised one finger, then stated, "One, I'm a soul who took over your son's body after he perished within the stomach of that beast."

Ignoring the woman's raised brows and shivering shoulders, he raised a second finger and continued, "Two, I'm still your son, but I recovered previous life memories or something of that sort due to an experience that brought me to death's door."

The woman's eyes flickered with a hint of hope, but her brow remained wrinkled as though deep in thought. Almost subconsciously, she asked, "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Honestly, although I can see that you care somewhat about me, there are also obvious hints of hesitation when you talk to me. Well, I assume I might not have been the best of sons, so why not start from scratch now? No matter how you slice it, I'll still be your son regardless, and I'm more than happy to give you a good life in the future as best I can no matter what I discover upon recovering the latent memories in my mind."

The woman frowned, but didn't say anything immediately.

As a final push, Cyrus smiled gently and said, "Whatever the case is, I can sense our connection of blood. No matter what, you are my mother, and I am your son. I'll probably be very different from what you knew, but nothing can truly erase a blood connection."

'Well, there are exceptions, but that'd ruin my point.'

The woman's brows wrinkled even further.

"Mom, your beautiful face is going to have permanent wrinkles if you keep this up," Cyrus joked to lighten the mood, his lips smirking ever so slightly as he leaned his chin on his fist

Shivering briefly, the woman stared at him wide-eyed. Her cheeks quickly reddened, but the blush faded just as quickly.

"...Can you call me that one more time?"

"Mom?"

The woman blinked. Then, she smiled gently. "...I suppose this is okay… son."

"Well, you're halfway there, I guess," Cyrus mumbled.

Although the woman still looked tense and anxious about the situation, Cyrus could see that she didn't fully oppose his current state, either, which he thought could be the case after observing her for a few minutes. He figured things went about as well as they could have. At the very least, he now had somebody around who he wouldn't have to keep up pretenses with, even if it was slightly forced.

'Well, as much as I hate pretenses, I'll still need them for a bit. Won't need them once I get a bit stronger, though. That'll be nice.'