By Zephyria 
To me, who still hadn’t fully emerged from life in the Central Plains, the phrase “survival of the fittest” was more familiar. Everything born had to overcome its own life.
At that time, I believed everyone was born carrying the karma of their past.
Insects were born as insects because they had lived such bad lives, the poor were born poor because they had accumulated such karma, and the noble were born noble because they had accumulated virtue. Only by being moved by Buddhist reincarnation philosophy could one endure all the unfortunate events that occurred in that harsh world.
However, listening carefully to the words of the Cervelle Siblings, the poor were like wildfires that flared up when the lords of each territory made mistakes.
They repeatedly said that it wasn’t about giving what one didn’t have, but about leading useful human resources in the most efficient and safe manner to expand productivity, and that one must have righteous intentions.
Everything they learned was ultimately for the sake of the residents of Cervelle territory being able to continue living in comfort.
The two siblings carried pride in their positions and concluded their words by declaring the need for a plan to guide other nobles who did not share this mindset.
I knew they brought up these topics specifically to enlighten my ignorance and felt grateful.
The Cervelle Siblings spent a considerable amount of time patiently teaching me how I should conduct myself when I eventually inherited House Ernhardt.
The matter of me wanting to pass the title to Michael later was a separate issue.
In the unlikely event that I were to sit at the head of the family, I spent time deeply contemplating what kind of person I would become and what policies I would implement. The more I pondered, the more difficult it became.
How many people truly think for themselves? This was a process of learning how to act as a person. I believed that a difficult path was the right path. I inwardly understood why my Father held House Cervelle in high regard and kept linking our families together.
Perhaps he wanted me to learn this kind of mindset.
I thought I had adopted the mindset of someone ahead, but I realized I still had a long way to go.
That night, I spent more time than usual practicing my sword swings.
❖ ❖ ❖
It was a day with fine weather and an unusually calm breeze. The clear blue sky, devoid of a single cloud since morning, was a pleasant sight.
We had breakfast in the garden, but since the weather was so good, we decided to have lunch outdoors. It was a chore to constantly think about how to spend our leisure time.
After much discussion, both families decided to go out together for some fishing.
House Cervelle lent us fishing rods, and the long, supple form of the rod, lacquered to a sheen, was beautiful.
When I swung it once in the air, it cut through the wind with a satisfying swish.
Its substantial weight and the elasticity with which it bent when swung made it such a fine fishing rod that I thought someone in the Central Plains would surely carry it as a weapon.
Logan Cervel casually asked me to handle one of his father’s cherished fishing rods with care, and I nodded in agreement.
Debating where to sit, I ended up sitting next to my Father.
My Father seemed puzzled that I wasn’t sitting next to the children. But I had no other choice.
The children were accompanied by attendants and nannies, and Logan and Leila were too talkative to enjoy fishing together.
“Why aren’t you playing with the children?”
“You suggested a fishing bet some time ago, didn’t you? That’s why I’m here.”
“That’s right.”
My Father smiled, looking somewhat proud.
I didn’t know if he was pleased that I hadn’t forgotten his casual remark or if he was confident in his own skills.
All I could do was marvel at the items he brought out.
William Ernhardt took out a transparent box containing small models shaped like various insects and fish. When I touched them, some felt soft, others hard.
“…Are these bait?”
“They’re called lures. I never thought I’d see the day I’d show these to you.”
“…Without using things like earthworms or shrimp?”
“I didn’t want to show you anything too cruel for a fishing trip with you all. Besides, you can catch fish with these.”
I leaned my face close to the box and sniffed.
Though I wasn’t a fisherman, I had caught many fish in my time, and the idea of using these fake lures, which barely smelled at all, to replace real bait seemed difficult and strange.
However, this was not the only thing I didn’t know or found unfamiliar, and since Sierren’s people had mostly not lied to me, I accepted it and chose one of the fish-shaped models, adorned with multiple hooks, to attach.
As I hesitated instead of immediately casting my line, my Father demonstrated first.
Swish, the float and hook, drawing a clean arc, landed in the middle of the lake with a soft plop.
I enhanced my Eye Force and observed closely. The way he cast it far out, then slowly released and pulled the line, guiding it gently, was certainly not the fishing method I knew.
I sat with my arms crossed and extended my Qi sense to scan the water.
The fish model tied to the hook swayed slightly. A few fish, looking curious, swam closer and gave it a gentle peck.
The fishing rod swayed aimlessly, luring the fish closer.
Peck, peck. The moment they firmly bit down, a swift flick of the wrist pulled the hooked fish to the surface.
For the first time in my life, I saw my Father wear such a proud expression.
“See, this is how you do it.”
“Yes. I understand.”
I too lifted my fishing rod and cast it with a swish, just as my Father had done.
Driven by the ambition to catch a bigger fish than my Father’s, I cast it even farther. With a fizz sound, the line cut through the air and unspooled endlessly, landing in the water with a faint friction sound from a distance.
I enhanced my Qi sense. Following the fishing line, I observed the distant spot.
If I were asked to release my aura into empty space, I wouldn’t have been able to reach this far, but the thin fishing line, connected to my fingertips, aided me.
Trying not to be conscious of my Father’s face, which was blankly watching the fishing line move fluidly, I mimicked the fish I knew.
Several fish were immediately entranced and approached, but I kept them at a precarious depth, evading them.
When the annoyed fish attacked with more ferocity, I lightly tugged the fishing rod, which had come close enough.
Two fish were caught on the hook at once and pulled up.
While my Father paused for a moment, I released the hooked fish and placed them into the fishing net beside me.
Fishing in the Central Plains was also a form of fishing using nets or harpoons to survive day by day, but for Martial Artists like myself, it was a means to pass the time and gain enlightenment.
I had never engaged in the wicked act of using Qi to lure small creatures. I would simply cast bait and wait, watching the water flow, waiting and waiting.
But it was not impossible if I set my mind to it. It was true that I, with my awakened Eye Technique that could see clearly into the water, had an advantage over my Father, who could not see underwater.
My Father looked puzzled but did not ask any questions.
The sound of fishing lines cutting through the air repeated quietly several times.
How much time had passed?
Both my Father and I missed a few times. Having caught many fish consecutively in the same spot using the same method, even small creatures would have noticed.
However, it was too troublesome to pack up everything and move to a different spot.
“I think we’ve caught enough. Shall we count how many we’ve caught?”
“…”
My Father didn’t answer, so I looked up at the sky to gauge the time.
Not yet accustomed to clocks, I often estimated the time of day by looking up at the sky or observing shadows.
It was late afternoon, almost evening.
Those who had grown tired of fishing had spread picnic mats by the water’s edge, eating snacks, or lying down and chatting amongst themselves.
Only my Father and I had been engrossed in fishing for several hours, and our nets were already heavy.
“Father?”
“…Yes, let’s do that.”
We transferred the fish from the nets into the ice chest placed beside us, one by one.
I had caught forty-three fish, and my Father had caught seventeen. Even after releasing the smaller ones back into the lake immediately, the quantity was more than what a single fisherman would catch in a day.
Still, there were many family members to share the meal with.
With this amount, even if not one fish per person, everyone could taste about half a fish.
Feeling proud of this thought, my Father, who was untangling his fishing line, suddenly asked with a voice full of grievance,
“Did you use your aura while fishing?”
“Yes? I did.”
“…No, why? I mean, I’m a civilian who doesn’t know how to use aura properly…”
“What?”
“…Just, why. What are you planning to bet for the prize?”
“Ah, that.”
“That?”
To be honest, I had completely forgotten about the bet.
Like the throwing knife technique, martial arts performed using silkworm thread (thread spun from silkworms possessing special spiritual energy) were lethal techniques.
I merely wanted to imitate the myriad, unpredictable forms of the newly learned art of fishing, as it bore a resemblance to them.
So, after a moment’s thought, I replied in a calm tone,
“I will tell you when we are in a quiet place next time.”
My Father said nothing on the way back.
Seeing his uneasy expression, I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know how to start the conversation and ended up worrying until we arrived at the villa.
Thinking about it, I felt that there would surely be at least one occasion in my life where I would go against my Father’s wishes. I decided not to add anything further, intending to use that moment for that future occasion.