Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

He moved to step forward, but the old gentleman stood up to stop him. "Calm down, my good man. She’s just a child..."

The little girl, however, stood her ground. She simply lifted her chin, her dark eyes devoid of fear. Instead, they held a serene calm as she watched the man, whose face was flushed red with shame and anger.

"Who dares lecture my daughter."

A calm voice rang out. It wasn’t loud, but it had a strange, Piercing quality that instantly cut through all the noise in the carriage.

Everyone turned toward the sound and saw two more people boarding the carriage.

The speaker was a remarkably young-looking man with a handsome, refined face, fair skin, and black hair and eyes. If not for his unnaturally calm eyes, which seemed to hold wisdom far beyond his apparent age, one might have mistaken him for a boy of sixteen or seventeen.

Following right behind him was an equally young-looking woman with blonde hair.

Her features were as delicate as a doll’s, her azure eyes as clear as water. Her long, golden hair was woven into an intricate bun at the back of her head, secured with a few small Pearl hairpins.

The moment these two appeared, the very air inside the carriage seemed to freeze.

It wasn’t just because of their striking appearances and dispositions, but because of the unquestionable authority that flowed so naturally from the young man’s words.

The little black-haired girl’s eyes lit up. Clutching her book, she trotted over and gently tugged on the young man’s hand. "Father."

Then she turned to the blonde woman and called out sweetly, "Mother."

The agitated believer froze. He stared at the impossibly young "parents," then at the little black-haired girl who was at least eight or nine years old, his face a mask of disbelief. "F-Father? Mother? What kind of joke is this! You... At most, you’re her older brother and sister!"

He turned to the other passengers, seeking validation. "Everyone, look! How could these two possibly have a daughter this old? Who are they kidding!"

His words sparked a low murmur of agreement and whispers.

Indeed, the pair looked far too young. Even if nobles, who were known to take excellent care of themselves, married and had children early, the oldest their child could be was about three. Yet this little girl was clearly eight or nine, about the same age as Bobby.

No matter how one looked at it, these "parents" seemed much closer in age to being her siblings.

Upon hearing this, Aurora turned her azure eyes toward the believer. The corners of her mouth curved into a faint smile, as if she’d just heard an amusing misunderstanding.

But she offered no explanation.

Mo Ling blinked her large, dark eyes, looked at the believer, and suddenly asked in a deceptively innocent tone:

"Mister, is the way you tell parents and children apart just by looking at their faces? Or are you saying that you know who my father and mother are better than I do?"

The believer was struck speechless, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "You... you have a sharp tongue! Even if they are your guardians, they clearly haven’t taught you any manners! Those words you said earlier..."

"Those words from earlier," Murphy interrupted, his voice so steady that the believer instinctively shut his mouth. "My daughter was not wrong. Acknowledging human labor and wisdom does not contradict faith in Oriane. One of the core tenets of the new policies promoted by His Holiness, Pope Vesta I, is to highlight the value of mortal wisdom and effort in order to better enact the Holy Light’s protection over the world. If you take issue with this, perhaps you should study the Holy Throne’s recent edicts more carefully, rather than arguing with a child and attempting to deliver a pointless lecture."

His words were logical and his tone was calm, yet they carried an invisible force. The believer opened his mouth, but for a moment, he couldn’t find a single word in rebuttal.

Moreover, the man had invoked the new policies of the Pope’s Throne, which put his own "defense of the faith" in an awkward position.

Seeing his chance, the old gentleman stepped in to smooth things over again. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its gentle tone.

"Alright, alright, everyone. We’re all strangers meeting by chance on this journey, so it’s only natural for opinions to differ. This gentleman is right; acknowledging human achievement and respecting the faith are not mutually exclusive. As for family matters..."

He glanced at Murphy and his family, his tone tinged with caution.

"It is indeed not the place of outsiders to make assumptions. Let’s all calm down and not let this little tiff spoil our enjoyment of the Holy City’s evening scenery."

The old gentleman’s mediation offered both sides a graceful way to back down.

The believer snorted and sat back down heavily. He didn’t say another word, but his expression remained sour.

Murphy neither agreed nor disagreed with the old gentleman. He simply took Mo Ling’s hand and, with Aurora, found two empty, adjacent seats in the middle of the carriage.

Aurora sat down gracefully, and Mo Ling, still holding her book, took the seat between her and her father.

The atmosphere inside the carriage shifted subtly.

Although the earlier dispute had died down, nearly every passenger’s gaze, whether open or furtive, was now fixed on the family of three, whose appearance and aura were so strikingly unusual.

Claude and Juno exchanged a complicated look, a mixture of lingering unease from the argument and curiosity about the mysterious family.

Bobby’s eyes were wide, and he stared at Mo Ling without blinking, his gaze filled with pure curiosity.

However, Mo Ling, the focus of all these stares, seemed completely unaffected.

She carefully placed the book on her lap.

Noticing Bobby’s stare, she turned her head and gave him a sweet, friendly smile.

Encouraged by her smile, Bobby asked in a small voice, "Wh-what’s your name?"