Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 567: Meeting Gao Ziyue (9)

Kyrian nodded slowly, processing the information. It was fascinating, a wine that defied the very laws of cultivation, one that placed everyone who drank it on equal footing, regardless of their strength. A rarity he would never find anywhere else.

He made sure to commit that information to memory, alongside all the other lessons he had learned since arriving at the Sky Caravan.

Then he returned to drinking in small sips, slowly savoring each layer of flavor that revealed itself, every subtle nuance that had previously escaped his perception.

Meanwhile, Gao Ziyue found herself watching him.

Without realizing it, her gaze settled on his face, studying every detail with an attention she could not explain.

His black hair fell naturally over his face, showing no concern whatsoever for appearance, a stark contrast to the young masters who spent hours arranging their perfectly groomed hairstyles.

His profile was extraordinarily handsome, though not with the exaggerated, artificial beauty cultivated by many young members of the great families, whose features were so flawless they seemed sculpted by human hands.

His was something natural, harmonious, as though nature itself had simply gotten every detail exactly right. Every feature seemed to belong exactly where it was, effortlessly, without any trace of artifice.

And then there were his eyes.

Violet.

Deep.

At the center of his irises, tiny bolts of lightning, almost imperceptible, seemed to appear and disappear endlessly, like miniature storms trapped within his pupils.

Over the course of her long life, she had seen countless bloodlines and countless types of eyes, eyes said to see the future, eyes capable of paralyzing an enemy with a single glance, eyes that shone with ancient power.

None of them resembled that violet pair.

They seemed to contain secrets older than anything she had ever known.

The longer she looked at him, the more curious she became. There was something about him that captured her attention in a way she had not experienced for decades.

Perhaps it was his sincerity, his complete lack of pretense, the way he treated her like an ordinary person instead of a figure of power.

Or perhaps it was something deeper, something her eyes could perceive but her mind had yet to fully understand.

Then a thought surfaced, clear and unexpected.

’He looks very young.’

Much younger than he had seemed during their conversations within Azhura’k’s dream domain, where his wisdom and maturity had created the impression of someone with far more life experience.

She finally decided to ask, her voice soft and curious.

"Kyrian..."

He looked away from his cup and met her gaze with that calm expression that seemed so characteristic of him.

"Hm?"

She smiled, a smile that was more inquisitive than affectionate.

"You look quite young." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes examining his face with genuine curiosity.

"How old are you?"

Kyrian answered immediately, without giving it a second thought, as though the question were the most natural thing in the world.

"I turned sixteen a few months ago."

Silence.

Gao Ziyue blinked.

Then she blinked again, as though her eyes were trying to process information that her mind stubbornly refused to accept.

For several seconds, her mind simply rejected what she had heard, as though some instinctive defense mechanism had activated to protect her understanding of reality.

Sixteen?

She had imagined something completely different.

Twenty years old, perhaps twenty-two.

Someone who had lived long enough to develop that constant composure, that unusual maturity, and that almost unshakable way of seeing the world.

Someone who had faced challenges and overcome hardships, who had learned through pain and experience.

But sixteen?

He had only just reached adulthood, a teenager who had barely begun his journey.

While she was still trying to reorganize her thoughts, Kyrian asked the most natural question imaginable, his voice calm and unassuming.

"And you?"

She lifted her head, startled at having been caught off guard.

"How old are you?"

Gao Ziyue stood up so quickly that she nearly knocked over her cup, the amber liquid swaying dangerously close to the rim. Her body reacted before her mind could process what had happened, an instinctive response she could not control.

"Th-That..." Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red, the blush spreading from her cheeks down to her neck.

"You..."

She opened her mouth, trying to form words, but nothing seemed right. She closed it again.

Taking a deep breath, she struggled to regain her composure, searching for the right words in a situation she had never encountered before.

Then she crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive gesture that tried to reclaim a fragment of her dignity.

"Don’t you know that asking a lady’s age is extremely impolite?"

Kyrian simply looked at her, his violet eyes fixed on her flushed face.

There was a lightness in his gaze, a complete absence of judgment that dismantled every one of her defenses.

Then a small smile appeared on his face.

Subtle, but genuine, like a sliver of sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky.

"You’re the one who asked first."

She was left completely speechless, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

He was right.

She knew he was right.

But that did nothing to make the situation any less embarrassing.

A few seconds later, he merely shrugged, a casual gesture that dissolved all the tension.

"But it’s fine. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to."

His tone was so calm, so natural, that all of her feigned indignation completely lost its strength, wilting like a flower beneath the sun.

She let out a long sigh, a sound filled with both surrender and relief.

She slowly sat back down, her movements calmer now, less defensive.

Looking down at her cup, her fingers traced the crystal rim before she finally answered.

"I..." She paused briefly, as though gathering her courage.

"Let’s just say I’m already over fifty years old."

Her voice came out much softer, as though she were confessing a secret she had never shared with anyone.

"A little over, actually. But I won’t go into the details."

Kyrian remained exactly the same.

No surprise.

No shock.

No change in expression.

For a cultivator, fifty years truly meant very little. Many cultivators lived for centuries, and the age difference between them was insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

She slowly raised her eyes, meeting his gaze with a vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see.

When she realized that he remained exactly as before, without the slightest hint of judgment or change in attitude, she asked with quiet uncertainty.

"You..." She paused briefly.

"Does it... not bother you?"