“That’s because…”

Yan Sanhe’s dark gaze fixed directly on Xie Daozhi. “You still hate him!”

The hand holding the incense stick trembled, and it fell to the ground.

“No…”

Xie Daozhi’s lips quivered slightly. “I am sincere.”

“Whether you’re sincere or not, the incense knows!”

Yan Sanhe picked up the incense stick. “Tell me, why do you hate him?”

Xie Daozhi’s gaze flickered violently as his feet unconsciously took a step backward.

Yan Sanhe pressed forward one step.

“If you don’t speak, this obsession cannot be dissolved. If the obsession isn’t dissolved, then I cannot give you that marriage compatibility document.”

These words were like the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

Xie Daozhi clearly felt his heart pounding—thump, thump—each beat spelling out the word “hate.”

“Yan Sanhe, I won’t dissolve this obsession. I’ll just watch with my own eyes as your Yan family falls into misfortune.”

“That’s perfectly fine! In my grandfather’s branch of the family, aside from myself, there’s no one else left. However…”

Yan Sanhe’s tone shifted. “Since there’s a marriage compatibility document, it means she was taken as a wife, not a concubine. If there’s no divorce letter, your Xie family won’t escape either!”

“Father!”

“Master!”

Xie Erli and Steward Xie simultaneously cried out in alarm.

Xie Daozhi shuddered violently, his heart roaring like mountains and seas.

Yan Sanhe stared into his eyes and asked in an almost seductive voice, “Tell me, why do you hate him!”

Why?

An extremely pained expression appeared on Xie Daozhi’s face.

The scar buried deepest in his heart was suddenly torn open. No matter how remarkable a person he was, no matter how high his official position—it still hurt.

After his birth father died of illness, the family was utterly destitute. Even the money for the burial had to be borrowed.

His mother was beautiful. Widowed at such a young age, she attracted the desire of countless men in the village, which meant countless women hated her.

Unable to make ends meet, mother and son could only wander from place to place.

At their worst, they were no different from beggars. Being able to eat a full meal was young Xie Daozhi’s greatest wish in those years.

The turning point came when he was six years old.

His mother met a servant from the Yan family and begged her to help get work as a day laborer at the Yan residence. Because she was beautiful and literate, Yan Xing took her as a concubine.

There was no banquet, no wedding sedan—just his mother dressed in new clothes.

He couldn’t even tell if his mother counted as a second wife or a concubine.

Yan Xing came from an aristocratic family and held an official position—wealthy and powerful. Just days after consummating the marriage, Yan Xing forcibly ordered him to change his surname to Yan.

The reason was simple: you eat the Yan family’s food, you drink the Yan family’s water—the Yan family is your heaven.

He was completely unwilling inside, but in order to have enough to eat, he could only accept it.

After changing his surname, Yan Xing still gave him no kindness. He found fault everywhere, was strict about everything. The slightest mistake meant a beating with a rod.

Because he had neither name nor status, he didn’t even qualify to eat at the table.

His mother was often scolded by Yan Xing for failing to raise her son properly. In that household, she was cautious everywhere, lowering herself at every turn.

And he, this burden from a previous marriage, could only suffer in silence even when Yan Xing’s sons bullied him until he was covered in injuries.

His mother hoped he would make something of himself. She wanted him to study at the Yan family school, but Yan Xing refused. His mother knelt in the snow, begging desperately.

For a full day and night, she knelt there until she fainted from the cold. Only then did Yan Xing relent.

At six years old, he first understood how power and family background could force people to bow their heads.

Touching his mother’s hand, cold as a corpse, he shed not a single tear. He only swore silently in his heart that he would study hard, that he would rise above others.

For two full years, he slept only two or three hours each day, tying his hair to the rafters and pricking his thigh with an awl. Even on New Year’s Eve, he studied alone by lamplight.

Just as he wholeheartedly believed that his desperate efforts could change his fate and make the Yan family look up to him and his mother, Yan Xing threw them out without any reason.

He would never forget that day.

The snow fell heavily. Behind them, the vermillion gate slammed shut with a “bang.” Hot tears flowed from his mother’s eyes.

She wept inconsolably.

At that moment, his hatred for Yan Xing reached his very bones.

He swore that one day he would trample Yan Xing firmly under his feet, to repay this humiliation.

“Yan Sanhe!”

Xie Daozhi looked at her with a gaze that could devour a person.

“This is his true face. Shouldn’t I hate him? Shouldn’t I?!”