Yan Sanhe was left alone in the cold main hall of the Xie residence, without anyone even bringing her a cup of hot tea.

Xie Daozhi’s show of authority was quite thoroughly displayed.

An hour later.

The lights in the outer courtyard lit up, and someone walked into the main hall with hands clasped behind his back—it was Xie Daozhi himself.

Just as Yan Sanhe had imagined, this man possessed fine features. Even with white hair and a full beard, they couldn’t conceal the noble air surrounding his entire person.

Yan Sanhe walked up to him and gave a slight nod.

Xie Daozhi walked past her side expressionlessly, swept his robe aside, and sat down.

Seeing Yan Sanhe standing motionless, Steward Xie scolded: “Miss Yan, upon seeing my master, why do you not perform the proper courtesies?”

Perform courtesies?

Yan Sanhe raised an eyebrow and slowly turned around. Right under Xie Daozhi’s nose, she walked to the other side of the Eight Immortals table.

And sat down leisurely.

“How audacious!”

“What of it?”

Yan Sanhe tilted her head slightly. “Are the chairs in your Xie residence merely decorations?”

Steward Xie nearly choked to death on those words.

He was about to scold again when suddenly Xie Daozhi’s heavy gaze turned toward him. That rebuke rolled around in his throat, and he could only swallow it back down forcefully.

The air instantly froze.

After a long while, Xie Daozhi lifted his eyelids and finally gave Yan Sanhe an indifferent glance.

“Your surname is Yan?”

“That’s correct.”

“Where do you come from?”

“Yunnan Prefecture, Fugong County.”

“What business brings you thousands of miles to seek this official?”

Yan Sanhe leaned forward, looking at Xie Daozhi’s profile. “I’ve come for Yan Hang!”

Just as expected.

Xie Daozhi sneered repeatedly in his heart. “What is your relationship to Yan Hang?”

“A relative.”

“What kind of relative?”

“I call him Grandfather.”

“How old are you this year?”

“Seventeen.”

“Yan Hang, he…”

Xie Daozhi tapped his fingers on the table. “What has become of him?”

Yan Sanhe continued looking at him. “A month and a half ago, he passed away.”

Dead?

Xie Daozhi’s shoulders, which had been tightly tensed all along, relaxed imperceptibly. He covered his lips and coughed once. “Did he die a natural death?”

Yan Sanhe: “Birth, aging, illness, and death all count as natural deaths.”

Xie Daozhi frowned slightly.

Such words shouldn’t come from the mouth of a seventeen-year-old young lady—far too mature!

“What final words did he leave for me before dying?”

“No words.”

“What matters did he entrust me to handle?”

“He entrusted nothing.”

The false warmth in Xie Daozhi’s eyes faded at once, instinctively revealing a guarded vigilance as if facing a formidable enemy.

Yan Hang left no words and no matters—so why had his granddaughter come looking for him?

He slowly stroked his beard, using a coaxing tone to say: “He and I met a few times, but we weren’t very familiar.”

Yan Sanhe continued looking at him, though her gaze had grown heavier.

“You and he only met a few times?”

“Would this official deceive you?”

Yan Sanhe bit out two words softly: “You did.”

“Impudent!”

Xie Daozhi slammed the table, beside himself with rage.

His instinct was to call someone in to deal with this creature who’d eaten the heart of a bear and the gall of a leopard. But from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Yan Sanhe suddenly standing up.

She walked to stand before Xie Daozhi, her gaze meeting his directly.

Xie Daozhi felt his heart skip a beat.

“Even if I shouldn’t be impudent, I must be impudent now.”

Yan Sanhe’s voice was calm. “Xie Daozhi, you once bore the surname Yan and called Yan Hang ‘Father.'”

Father?!

Forty-eight-year-old Xie Daozhi, upon hearing those two words, froze for a moment before suddenly bursting into loud laughter.

“Everyone in the world knows that I, Xie Daozhi, lost my father at the age of one and a half, and was raised single-handedly by my widowed mother. Stop spouting such nonsense!”

Yan Sanhe was about to speak when she saw Xie Daozhi’s face darken.

“That you can speak with me at this moment is already out of consideration for those few encounters. Otherwise… you likely wouldn’t even be able to enter the Xie residence’s gates.”

Yan Sanhe’s pupils contracted abruptly.

She had anticipated this matter wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t expected Xie Daozhi to speak so absolutely.

“Someone come!”

Steward Xie, whose blood had already run half cold from fright at Yan Sanhe’s words, came running over with rapid steps. “Master?”

Xie Daozhi commanded sternly: “Arrange for Miss Yan to stay one night. Tomorrow morning, have the accounting office provide her with one thousand taels of silver.”

One thousand taels?

Steward Xie was shocked. “Master, so much?”

Xie Daozhi’s expression showed extreme distaste. “She’s come from Yunnan Prefecture—entering the capital once isn’t easy. Presumably, she won’t have another opportunity to come again.”

“Yes!”

“Xie…”

“Miss Yan!”

Xie Daozhi’s voice was heavy as iron, his gaze like swords and blades.

“This! Is! The! Xie! Residence!”

Five words, and the imposing manner of one in a position of authority manifested itself.

Yan Sanhe bit down hard on her teeth, forcing back the words that had reached her lips.

Xie Daozhi still had the latter half of his sentence left unspoken—

“I will not tolerate your impudence!”