Investing in My Crippled Wife: Every Return Makes Me Stronger

Chapter 117: A Vague Truth

Zoe fell silent for a moment, her gaze dropping to the table as she turned the words over in her mind. Her brow furrowed slightly, her lips moving silently as she repeated the core of the advice to herself.

"...Mastery over what I possess... Wait for the right moment..."

A few moments later, the lingering anxiety completely vanished from her expression. She turned back to Ethea, meeting the former Empress’s calm gaze, and gave a deep, respectful nod of gratitude.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

Ethea silently accepted the gesture.

Right then, Soren returned from the kitchen carrying a neatly wrapped box.

"Here," he said, handing it to her. "I hope it will be enough."

"Thank you," Zoe said earnestly as she stood up. After taking the container, she turned toward the exit. "I will be taking my leave, then."

However, after taking a few hasty steps, her movements suddenly stalled. She stopped in her tracks, pausing for a brief second before turning back toward the table to lock her eyes directly onto Ethea.

"Think about what I said," she murmured mysteriously, a subtle glint flashing across her eyes.

Ethea stiffened but managed to reply quickly. "...I will."

Satisfied with the response, Zoe turned away and headed out. Soren followed to see her off, walking beside her all the way until they stepped outside.

As they walked, Soren finally broke the silence, curiosity getting the better of him. "So, what exactly did the two of you talk about while I was cooking?"

Zoe stopped in the hallway, turning to face him with a playful smile. "It’s women’s secret talk. A gentleman shouldn’t pry into it."

"Oh, okay then," Soren chuckled, choosing not to push the matter any further. He still made sure to give her an encouraging nod, though. "I wish you success."

"Thanks. I won’t disappoint," Zoe said, giving a confident little wave before heading off.

Soren watched her figure disappear as she entered the lift before stepping back inside. Closing the door and his eyes, he focused inward on his own core. A heavy, vibrant warmth was pulsing directly against the boundaries of his core.

He too was incredibly close to a breakthrough.

The residual energy from preparing the dish, combined with the few bites he had taken himself, was already pushing his cultivation forward at an alarming rate.

’It seems like the effects are more potent than I anticipated.’

Opening his eyes, he exhaled a long breath to stabilize the sudden surge. There was still business to attend to before he could focus entirely on his own cultivation.

’Let’s check up on Aunt Clara first.’

Approaching the training room, he extended his perception toward the reinforced door. He easily sensed Clara sitting cross-legged in the center of the chamber, already initiating her breakthrough. The water mana around her flowed with smooth, rhythmic precision, showing absolutely no signs of instability.

Sensing nothing wrong, he turned back to the dining area and sat down beside Ethea.

"How was it?" he asked, breaking the quiet as he glanced at her mostly uneaten bowl. "Was the taste good?"

Ethea looked up, her calm eyes meeting his. "Yes, it is really delicious. Thank you for your hard work."

"Hmm, as long as you’re satisfied, it’s good," Soren replied with a faint smile.

Ethea hesitated for a fraction of a second, her fingers twitching. "...Soren, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"...Where did you learn to cook these dishes?"

"..." Soren fell silent at the unexpected question.

On second thought, he should have expected it from someone with Ethea’s analytical personality.

’...Should I say I found it on the Golden Gate again?’

If he made an excuse and ’revealed’ that he found even more treasures, it would sound plausible. However, he didn’t want to lie to her. Not again.

Noticing his hesitation, Ethea softly added, "You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to."

"Well... It’s not that I don’t want to," Soren said, scratching the back of his neck with a wry smile. "It’s just a bit difficult to explain. Let’s just say... it’s related to my ability."

"...I see," Ethea muttered, offering a small, understanding nod. A faint trace of satisfaction appeared in her eyes, appreciating the fact that he had done his best to give her an honest answer.

Soren leaned back slightly, shifting the momentum of the conversation. "...Can I ask you something too?"

"Go ahead."

"I think I am gonna break through as well, so... got any advice?"

Ethea paused, her hand freezing completely.

’So fast?’

It had only been just over a month since he awakened, yet he is already about to break through to the third circle?

’It must be related to the Golden Gate...’ She guessed after a quick mental analysis. ’Ryan had also broken through to the 2nd Circle peak during the ordeal after all.’

’Then...’

She took a deep breath and turned her head to stare directly at him, her usual indifferent, piercing expression returning to her face.

"You... you practice the Glacial Emperor Scripture, right?"

"...Yes," Soren replied after a brief pause, now unsurprised by her question. He knew better than to play dumb with a former Empress who likely knew the technique inside out. "And, if you are worried, I didn’t get it from your father or any of your family members. I didn’t steal it or obtain it through underhanded means either, so you can rest assured. But... I can’t tell you how I got it for a similar reason to earlier."

He kept his expression neutral, keeping his deeper thoughts to himself.

’In fact, I haven’t accepted a single thing from them. Well, except those cards.’

Soren had purposefully stashed away both the business and credit cards her father had given him during that sudden visit. He had no intention of spending a single credit from it, even if his own accounts ran completely dry. He refused to owe that family anything, and more importantly, he simply didn’t trust them after the cold, calculating way they had abandoned Ethea.

Moreover, they hadn’t visited her once after dropping her off, nor had they sent a single message to check on her condition. The timing of that visit and the sheer amount of money left behind felt entirely too transactional, almost like hush money or a severance package to wipe their hands clean of a crippled daughter.

’And...’