“His Highness still keeps Irina outside the gates,” Shu Hong hesitated before saying, “It seems he’s determined not to let Irina treat his illness.”
Han Yan turned her head: “I know.” Fu Yunxi’s refusal to let Irina enter Prince Xuanqing’s mansion wasn’t because he had given up hope of living. Although Irina’s poison insects could temporarily alleviate the cold poison, they were highly addictive. While the cold poison might be suppressed for a time, he would become addicted to another type of poison. Fu Yunxi naturally wouldn’t allow himself to become anyone’s pawn. Moreover, Irina’s method only treated the symptoms, not the root cause – the cold poison would eventually resurface.
He was quite at peace, even consoling himself. Han Yan recalled the Emperor following Fu Yunxi when he returned from the palace a few days ago. The Emperor had stared at Han Yan for a long time before finally sparing her life. As an emperor, it was practically impossible to allow someone like Han Yan to remain in this world. Every new ruler would thoroughly eliminate remnants of the previous dynasty, never allowing anyone who might threaten their throne to exist.
But Fu Yunxi’s attitude had been too firm – so firm that even the Emperor had to yield, almost suggesting that if Han Yan couldn’t live, the whole world would have to pay the price. The Emperor had no choice but to compromise. Who else in the world but Fu Yunxi could make an emperor compromise so reluctantly? The Emperor had no choice, especially facing his brother who might lose his life any day.
Han Yan had watched Fu Yunxi and the Emperor negotiate calmly at the time. How could anyone tell he was a critically ill patient? He always managed to arrange everything perfectly, even using his illness as a trap to lure the Seventh Prince and Empress Dowager.
He had arranged everything from his sickbed – news of his death, the Western Rong’s attack, the Imperial Guard’s coup attempt. Like the praying mantis hunting the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind – Fu Yunxi played his hand well even when he wasn’t at his best. Having lived two lives, Han Yan felt she should call him a teacher.
“Miss, there’s an old man outside who wants to see you,” a maid hurriedly entered and said with puzzlement, “He’s quite peculiar and won’t leave no matter what.”
Han Yan paused, then waved her hand: “I’ll go see.”
She was now the only one living in the Zhuang residence. Zhuang Hanming had joined General Cheng’s forces, and the Emperor had arranged for her to continue living in the Zhuang residence. Though Zhuang Shiyang had been convicted, Han Yan remained safe. Such an imperial decree was naturally unreasonable, but Fu Yunxi’s influence was surely behind it.
At the mansion’s gate stood an elderly man in gray clothes. Though past sixty with white hair and beard, he appeared remarkably vigorous. He carried a short sword on his back, looking like a martial arts practitioner.
Han Yan coughed lightly, and the old man turned to look at her. Upon seeing her appearance, he froze, and then his whole body began to tremble with emotion. His lips quivered, unable to speak.
“Elder?” Han Yan frowned. This person was truly strange, but oddly enough, despite thinking this, she felt an inexplicable closeness to him at first sight. This feeling of familiarity transcended everything, making his strange appearance and behavior insignificant.
“Xiao Qiao!” the man finally called out.
Han Yan was stunned. Xiao Qiao? A name flashed through her mind – Tang Xiao Qiao?
Her identity as the Eastern Marquis’s daughter had become an eternal secret, one Han Yan had promised never to reveal. This was because revealing it wouldn’t change the current situation – she could never become emperor, and this identity would only give opportunists new leverage and bring her endless trouble.
So she would only be the Fourth Miss of the Zhuang family, but how did this person look at her and call out “Xiao Qiao”?
Was he Tang Xiao Qiao’s acquaintance? Or… relative?
“I’m not Xiao Qiao,” Han Yan said. “My name is Zhuang Han Yan. Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
The old man paused slightly, seeming to come to his senses at Han Yan’s words. He stepped forward excitedly: “Too similar, you… you and Xiao Qiao…” As if remembering something, he continued, “My name is Tang Sheng. I am… I am the current master of the Tang Clan.”
Han Yan immediately understood that this person truly had some connection to Tang Xiao Qiao. Since he could find his way here, he must know her identity. However, this wasn’t the right place to talk.
“Master Tang has come from afar. Please, come in for tea,” Han Yan said.
Tang Sheng stared at her intently and nodded: “Then I’ll accept your kind offer.”
They went to the mansion’s main hall, where Han Yan dismissed all the servants, leaving only herself and Tang Sheng. Han Yan asked: “What was your relationship with Tang Xiao Qiao?”
Tang Sheng hadn’t 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 person was Tang Xiao Qiao’s father – which meant he was her… grandfather? She suddenly felt her nose tingle with emotion. She truly had family in this world; she wasn’t alone. Han Yan carefully examined the elder’s features and discovered that she looked very similar to him.
“Grandfather,” she said. There was no need for subtle words – Tang Sheng must have known her identity before coming to verify it. His earlier comment about her resemblance to Xiao Qiao showed he had dismissed any doubts. Having confirmed she was his granddaughter, Han Yan saw no need to hide anymore.
Moreover, she truly wanted to acknowledge this grandfather.
At these words, Tang Sheng’s eyes were immediately filled with emotion. The elder who had once dominated the martial arts world now looked like any ordinary grandfather meeting his long-lost granddaughter, showing both excitement and uncertainty. His eyes grew moist: “Good… good… you look just like your mother…” He spoke incoherently, looking at Han Yan with deep emotion.
“Grandfather,” she called again, “Are you my grandfather?”
Tang Sheng finally couldn’t hold back his tears and grasped Han Yan’s hand: “I am your grandfather, child.” He had lived a lonely life for most of his years, never imagining that Xiao Qiao’s child was still alive. If someone hadn’t told him, he would never have known that Xiao Qiao’s daughter existed in this world. All these years, how much hardship had Han Yan endured? All because he, 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 close family – sometimes the martial arts world was much cleaner than the imperial court. Tang Sheng had heard about Han Yan’s situation. If she stayed here, with the Emperor’s unpredictable nature, she would still be in great danger.