"Нis Нighnеss still rеfusеs to see Irinа." Аfter hesitаting for a mоmеnt, Shu Ноng finаllу said, "It seеms he is determined not to lеt Irinа treаt him."
Hаn Yаn turnеd hеr heаd: "I knоw." Fu Yunхi wоuld nоt allоw Irina to set fооt in the Хuan Qing Princе's Mansiоn, but not beсаusе hе hаd givеn uр hopе оf survival. Аlthоugh Irinа's gu worms сould tеmрorarilу аlleviаte the cоld poison, thоsе things сontаined an eхtrеmеly strоng dереndеnсy. Ву then, thе cоld poisоn might be tеmроrarilу suррrеssed, but he would bеcome addictеd to anothеr poisоn. Naturаllу, Fu Yunxi wоuld not allow himself to become a pawn controlled by others. Moreover, Irina's method only addressed the symptoms, not the root cause. One day, the cold poison would still erupt.
He was quite broad-minded, even comforting himself. Han Yan thought back to a few days ago when Fu Yunxi returned from the palace, followed by The Emperor. The Emperor stared at Han Yan for a long time before finally sparing her life. As an emperor, it was actually impossible to allow someone like Han Yan to remain in the world. Every new ruler would spare no effort in eliminating remnants of the previous dynasty; they would not tolerate anyone who posed even the slightest threat to their throne.
But Fu Yunxi's attitude was too resolute—so resolute that even The Emperor had to soften his stance, even giving the impression that if Han Yan could not survive, the entire world would have to pay the price. The Emperor had no choice but to compromise, albeit reluctantly. Apart from Fu Yunxi, who else in the world could make an emperor yield so unwillingly? The Emperor truly had no room to refuse, especially in the face of this younger brother whose life hung by a thread.
Han Yan had watched as Fu Yunxi calmly negotiated with The Emperor. How could anyone tell from his demeanor that he was a patient on the brink of death? He always managed to arrange everything perfectly, even using his own illness as a trap to lure the Seventh Prince and the Empress Dowager into it.
Even while confined to his sickbed, he had orchestrated everything: his own death announcement, the invasion of the Western Rong, the Imperial Forest Army forcing their way into the palace. Like a mantis stalking a cicada, unaware of the oriole behind, Fu Yunxi played his game masterfully even when he was not at his best. Having lived two lives, Han Yan might as well call him her teacher.
"Young Miss, there is an old man outside who wishes to see you." A maid hurried in from outside, looking somewhat puzzled. "He's strange and refuses to leave no matter how we try to drive him away."
Han Yan paused for a moment, then waved her hand. "I'll go out and see."
The Zhuang Mansion was now inhabited by her alone. Zhuang Hanming had followed Cheng Lei to work under him, and The Emperor had arranged for Han Yan to continue living in the Zhuang Mansion. Zhuang Shiyang had committed a crime, but Han Yan remained unharmed. Such an imperial decree was naturally unreasonable, but it undoubtedly owed much to Fu Yunxi's efforts.
At the entrance of the Zhuang Mansion stood an elderly man in gray robes. He appeared to be over sixty, with white hair and beard, yet he exuded a remarkably vigorous spirit. On his back, he carried a short sword, making him look like a martial artist from the jianghu.
Han Yan cleared her throat softly, and the old man turned to look at her. When he saw Han Yan's face, he was visibly stunned. Immediately after, his entire body trembled as if he were overwhelmed with excitement, his lips quivering as he struggled to speak."Old man?" Han Yan frowned. This person was truly peculiar, yet strangely, despite thinking so, the moment she saw him, she felt an inexplicable sense of closeness. This feeling of intimacy surpassed everything, allowing her to overlook even his odd attire and behavior.
"Xiao Qiao!" the man finally called out.
Han Yan was taken aback. Xiao Qiao? A name flashed through her mind—Tang Xiaoqiao?
The fact that she was the daughter of the Donghou Prince had become an eternal secret. Han Yan had promised herself she would never reveal it. Doing so would not change the current situation in any way—she could never become The Emperor. Instead, this identity would only provide new leverage for those with ulterior motives and bring endless trouble upon herself.
Thus, she would only ever be the Fourth Miss of the Zhuang family. But how could this person before her look at her and call out "Xiao Qiao"?
Was he an old acquaintance of Tang Xiaoqiao? Or... a relative?
"I am not Xiao Qiao," Han Yan said. "My name is Zhuang Hanyan. Perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else."
The old man was slightly stunned, as if her words had snapped him back to reality. He took two steps forward, visibly agitated. "So alike... you... you and Xiao Qiao..." Seeming to recall something, he continued, "My name is Tang Sheng. I am... the current master of the Tang Fortress."
Han Yan understood almost immediately. This man truly had some connection to Tang Xiaoqiao. But since he had found his way here, he must already know her identity. This was not the right place for such a conversation.
"Master Tang, you have come from afar. Why not come inside for a cup of tea?" Han Yan suggested.
Tang Sheng stared intently at her and nodded. "Then I shall not stand on ceremony."
The two of them entered the main hall of the Zhuang residence. Han Yan dismissed all the servants, leaving only herself and Tang Sheng. She asked, "What is Tang Xiaoqiao to you?"
Tang Sheng had not expected Han Yan to ask so directly. Upon hearing the question, he first showed surprise, then his expression turned sorrowful.
"She was my daughter," he said.
Han Yan was stunned. This man was Tang Xiaoqiao's father—which meant he was her... grandfather? Suddenly, she felt a lump in her throat. There truly were still relatives of hers in this world; she was not alone, living a solitary existence. Han Yan carefully examined the old man's features and realized that she bore a striking resemblance to him.
"Grandfather," she said. There was no need for pretense between honest people. Tang Sheng must have come to verify her identity, and his earlier remark about her resemblance to Xiao Qiao clearly indicated he had already dispelled his doubts. Since he had confirmed she was his granddaughter, Han Yan saw no reason to hide any longer.
Moreover, she genuinely wanted to acknowledge this grandfather.
Upon hearing this, Tang Sheng's eyes instantly filled with emotion. The old man, who had once commanded respect and awe in the martial world, now resembled any ordinary grandfather reunited with his long-lost granddaughter—excited yet at a loss. His eyes grew moist. "Good... good... you look so much like your mother..." He spoke somewhat incoherently, gazing at Han Yan with a heart full of sorrow.
"Grandfather," she called out again. "Are you really my grandfather?"Tang Sheng could no longer hold back his tears, grasping Han Yan's hand tightly: "I am your grandfather, child." He had spent most of his life in loneliness, never imagining that Xiao Qiao's child was still alive. If not for someone telling him, he would never have known that Xiao Qiao's daughter existed in this world. All these years, how much suffering and hardship Han Yan must have endured—it was all because he, as her grandfather, had failed in his duty to care for her.
Tang Sheng looked at Han Yan and said, "Come back to the Tang Clan with me." Living with one's closest kin, the jianghu could be far cleaner than the imperial court at times. Tang Sheng had also heard about Han Yan's situation. If she stayed here, with The Emperor's ever-unpredictable intentions, she would remain in great danger.
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