“Am I right—”

This was a phrase Yan Sanhe often used when questioning people.

Pei Xiao looked at Xie Zhifei with lingering fear.

What was going on? Was Xie Fifty about to replace Yan Sanhe in interrogating his own father?

Xie Daozhi looked at his son’s icy face and nodded: “Right!”

“As for the former, you say it was for the Crown Prince, for the realm and state. Fine, both Yan Sanhe and I acknowledge that.”

A spark of fire lurked in Xie Zhifei’s eyes.

“But you secretly sent the news to the battlefield—may I ask, was this also for the realm and state?”

“Well asked!”

Pei Xiao’s gaze was hard: “The old general was facing the Tartars. If it were truly for the realm and state, you absolutely shouldn’t have sent him the message.”

Li Buyan folded her arms and sneered coldly: “Wasn’t it just because you feared Emperor Yonghe would spare the old general for his realm’s sake, so you delivered a secret stab?”

Huang Qi muttered: “Put plainly, you feared the old general would win the battle.”

Ding Yi’s lips moved. Thinking he was still a Xie family member, he didn’t dare speak, only puffed out his chest, silently supporting Young Master Pei and the others.

One corner of Xie Daozhi’s mouth twitched slightly several times. “Third Son, I had to ensure nothing could go wrong.”

“Since it was to ensure the Crown Prince was foolproof, then don’t raise banners like realm and state, serving country and people.”

Xie Zhifei bit out these three words viciously: “You’re not worthy!”

“Third Son, you…”

Xie Daozhi’s eyes nearly split from rage, his breathing becoming rapid.

“The late Emperor himself, the person directly involved, at least knew that when two nations wage war, don’t disrupt the army’s morale. But you—you used the Zheng family’s one hundred eighty members to stab the old general’s heart.”

Xie Zhifei became so agitated his teeth trembled.

“Among those one hundred eighty members were the old general’s beloved son, his blood brothers, his spirited young grandson, and faithful servants who’d accompanied him for decades.

One hundred eighty members equaled one hundred eighty stabs to the old general’s heart. Each stab was slicing his flesh.

You’ve read so many books of sages—didn’t they teach you to establish principles for Heaven and Earth, to establish purpose for the people? The books didn’t teach you conspiracy and scheming, disregarding human lives. Could it be all your books were read into a dog’s belly?”

“Unfilial son! You unfilial son!”

Xie Daozhi shook all over like a sieve, his entire face contorted from anger, features twisted.

Everyone was scared silly by Third Master’s words.

Especially Pei Xiao.

These words Yan Sanhe could say—but you, Xie Fifty, couldn’t! No matter what, he’s still your father, your elder!

“Lord Xie!”

Xie Zhifei suddenly roared, shedding two lines of hot tears.

“You couldn’t use such despicable means against an old general fighting for his country. Do you know that because of this matter, his hair turned white overnight!”

Lord Xie?

Xie Daozhi’s body went soft, collapsing into the armchair. Something blocked his throat—he couldn’t speak a single word.

When Yan Sanhe pressed him like that just now, he could still respond calmly. But now, facing his own son’s interrogation, he had no power to resist, retreating step by step.

Just then, Yan Sanhe lifted her head from the man’s embrace, looking at Xie Zhifei with some confusion.

What was wrong with him?

Why was he as agitated as she was?

Xie Zhifei lowered his head, looking through tears at Yan Sanhe. “Let me reconstruct Old General Zheng’s death, how about it?”

Yan Sanhe said nothing, just poked his heart with her finger.

His heart ached, as if a large hand were forcefully tearing at it. He could even hear his own pounding heartbeat.

But the old general’s death must be reconstructed by him.

Ten years was too long. He’d lived so smoothly in the Xie family that he thought he truly was Third Master Xie.

But starting today, he could no longer be Third Master Xie, nor could he return to being Third Master Xie.

So he had to personally narrate the old general’s true cause of death, to let the pain in his heart spread to every muscle, bone crevice, all meridians—ideally letting it pierce his heart, making him wish he were dead.

Pain could sever him from the past.

“I’m fine.” He spoke calmly.

“Good.”

Yan Sanhe moved from his embrace to his side, her hand actively grasping his. “Just reconstruct it. If there’s any error, I’ll correct it.”

There would be no error.

Xie Zhifei answered silently in his heart, his sharp gaze with a hook looking toward Xie Daozhi.

“The Zheng family bloodbath occurred on the fifteenth day of the seventh month of Yonghe Year Eight. After the case occurred, you knew your scheme succeeded—the late Emperor had moved against the Zheng family.

But to ensure absolute certainty, you immediately dispatched someone to rush to the north.

From the capital to the north, riding fast and traveling day and night takes only half a month. By early eighth month, the old general learned the news that one hundred eighty members of the Zheng family had been exterminated.”

“When the old general learned the news in that instant, it must have pierced his heart with ten thousand arrows.”

Xie Zhifei unhurriedly changed his breath.

“If Lord Xie cannot experience what piercing with ten thousand arrows means, you can recall Yonghe Year Eight when I had that serious illness, when you nearly became a white-haired man sending off a black-haired one.

One son made you wish you were dead. Five sons, plus all the old general’s closest relatives—I think he must have hurt a thousand, ten thousand times more than your pain from losing one son.”

If words were daggers, this blade struck right at Xie Daozhi’s heart.

His face turned completely ashen.

“The old general wasn’t stupid. The Zheng family’s extermination had only one reason—someone discovered he was harboring the late Crown Prince’s orphan.

He could even vaguely guess who did it.

Not long after, the court’s supervising eunuch arrived in the north. The Emperor sent his confidant eunuch Yan Ruxian.

Yan Ruxian’s sudden arrival might deceive everyone else, but not the old general.

At this moment, he clearly realized the Emperor had come for his life, and more firmly confirmed the Emperor was the one who moved against the Zheng family.”

Speaking to here, Xie Zhifei paused, forcing back the remnant tears in his eyes.

“He didn’t tell anyone about this. He still trained troops and inspected as usual. I don’t know whether Ye Dong and the three Tao brothers noticed anything wrong with him—perhaps they did, perhaps they didn’t.

They’re dead. Dead men don’t speak. I can only imagine.

But Bu Liu noticed.

He noticed the old general had lost his vital spirit and energy. He noticed the old general’s hair had turned white. He noticed the light in the old general’s eyes had dimmed. He said he’d become a truly old man.”

Xie Zhifei’s gaze at Xie Daozhi sharpened.

“Lord Xie, you are the executioner. You personally killed a general who shed blood in battle.”

Xie Daozhi hurriedly shook his head: “I didn’t kill him, I didn’t…”

“Killing sometimes doesn’t require a blade.”

Xie Zhifei said coldly: “Rumors can kill, pain can kill, despair can also kill. Lord Xie, do you know what despair is?”

Xie Daozhi couldn’t speak.

That address “Lord Xie” was too grating to his ears.

“It’s when a home that was once bustling and lively suddenly disappears; when those blood relatives are all dead.”

Xie Zhifei’s voice also carried despair.

“It’s when heaven is vast and earth is great, but you’re left alone.”