The situation suddenly fell into a stalemate.
The various forces behind the scenes quickly realized that Ron André had… gone quiet.
Well, that wasn't entirely accurate.
To be precise, ever since the shopfronts had been maliciously bought out, Ron had not attempted to look for new ones.
Nor had he accepted the "kind assistance" of any faction.
He hadn't even taken the shop offered by the Church of the Goddess of Harvest.
So what had Ron been doing these past few days?
When reports of his movements were delivered to certain desks, quite a few people were stunned.
On the afternoon of the first day after the shop incident, Ron had gone out, bought a fishing rod, and run off to Lake Impash to fish.
He even brewed tea and ate hotpot while fishing!
At first, everyone assumed he was simply weighing which faction to side with.
But the man had fished for three straight days without responding to anyone.
Some factions grew impatient and sent representatives directly onto the frozen lake to invite him in person.
Each one was politely treated to fresh fish and a cup of pine-needle tea, then sent away warm and refreshed.
They failed to secure his cooperation—but reportedly felt much more vigorous in their nightly "battles."
Three days later, Ron went back into town.
When observers thought he was finally about to make a move, they discovered he had simply gone to the fish market, bought a whole basket of live fish, and happily carried them back to the lake—dumping them into the round-table-sized hole he had carved in the ice.
Apparently, he had decided his previous fishing efficiency was too low and had just stocked the lake himself.
The spectacle left many speechless.
No one could make sense of what he was thinking.
Around this time, news spread like wildfire that Ron's pine-needle tea could turn a man's bicycle into a motorized engine.
Some minor nobles, already feeling past their prime, came with a desperate "nothing to lose" mindset and joined Ron on the ice for a bit of fishing.
Ron welcomed everyone.
As long as they didn't bring up shopfronts, they were all friends.
They could drink as much pine-needle tea as they wanted—on the spot. He'd let them drink their fill.
But he wouldn't sell any to take home. No amount of money would change that.
After a few more days, as more people began showing up to fish with him, Ron simply put up a sign:
"One guest per hour. No more. Catch one fish, get one cup of tea."
In just seven or eight days, he had somehow opened a crude open-air fishing teahouse right on the lake.
And business was surprisingly good.
Clearly, the Royal Capital had quite the market for something that nourished yin and replenished yang.
"Your Highness Ron, your fish."
The fishmonger handed over a basket of live fish. After paying, Ron casually took it with one hand and strolled toward Lake Impash.
Ignoring the stares and murmurs of passersby, he returned to his usual spot and took out his reclining chair.
Drawing his sword, he shattered the thin layer of ice that had reformed overnight, clearing out a round-table-sized patch of water.
Just then, footsteps clanged against the ice from the shore.
Ron turned his head.
A young man dressed in light blue noble attire was walking toward him.
With short brown hair and black eyes that carried a hint of roguish mischief, the young man reached Ron's side. Without even greeting him first, he pulled a reclining chair out of his storage space.
Ron recognized him.
Though he hadn't met him since transmigrating, the original host's memories were clear.
This was his half-brother—
The Sixth Prince, Soren André.
"Mind if I sit here, my dear little brother?" Soren asked as he lay down anyway, a shameless grin on his face.
"Be my guest." Ron tossed a fishing net into the water.
"What are you doing? Fishing?" Soren asked.
"Something like that." Ron stretched the net wide to the size of a round table and secured its edges to the surrounding ice, turning it into a giant underwater basket.
Then he poured the live fish into it.
The fish flopped into the lake, thinking they had entered vast open waters—
Only to realize later they had simply fallen into another aquarium.
A bigger one, at least. They could even greet the fish outside through the net.
"What's the fun in that?" Soren laughed helplessly. "If you fish like this, where's the challenge?"
"Every time I bought a basket of fish before, I could only catch a few," Ron said as he settled into his reclining chair, baited his hook, and cast his line. "I figured that was too much of a loss."
"So I thought about how to let the fish into the lake without letting them escape. See? Problem solved."
"Boring." Soren shook his head. "I heard your tea here is pretty good. How about a cup?"
Ron held his fishing rod with one hand and pointed behind him with his thumb.
Soren turned to look at the sign and clicked his tongue. "I didn't bring a fishing rod. How about one free cup for your dear brother?"
"That would break the rules." Ron shook his head. "I don't care how you do it. Pull one fish out of the lake, and I'll treat you to a cup."
"Heh. Now that's interesting."
Soren sprang up from his chair and walked to the edge of the water. Turning back toward Ron, he flashed a bright grin.
"No matter what method I use? One fish for one cup?"
"Of course."
Ron watched his brother thoughtfully.
Like him, Soren had grown up unfavored.
But their personalities were worlds apart.
Ron had been withdrawn and taciturn, spending most of his time in the palace, brooding like a depressed youth.
Soren, on the other hand, lived freely and casually. Knowing full well he had no chance at the throne, he had simply chosen a life of idleness.
While the First Prince marched north, the Second Prince expanded west, and the Fourth Prince moved south, the Sixth Prince remained in the Royal Capital, making no effort to build his own power base.
His usual pursuits consisted of just three things—
Hunting, courting women, and hunting while courting women.
And yet, this carefree Sixth Prince had come to see him today?
Was it really just for a cup of tea?
As Ron pondered this, Soren had already begun his move—
He reached for his chest and started unbuttoning his coat, one button at a time.
When Soren removed his light blue outer coat, Ron's eyes widened.
"What are you doing?"
Soren stripped off his inner garments, revealing a well-built physique. Then he removed his trousers, leaving only his underclothes. Turning back toward Ron, he grinned.
"Fishing, of course."
Splash!
Soren dove headfirst into the freezing lake, sending up a spray of water.