“Miss Yan.”

Huang Qi entered, looking troubled: “Is everything finished here? My master…”

“Can’t hold on any longer?”

“Yes.”

“Coming right away.”

Yan Sanhe stood up, looking down at Xie Zhifei: “Let’s go to the study.”

Xie Zhifei’s left hand made a slight downward pressing motion, indicating to wait a moment—the turbulent undercurrents in his heart hadn’t yet subsided.

Yan Sanhe could only walk out of the flower hall first.

Outside the flower hall, Zhu Qing knelt ramrod straight in the courtyard, his face under the lamplight as dark as the night itself, showing complete despair.

He was waiting for an outcome.

Whether good or bad.

The people inside the room felt this way, the people outside felt this way too. Yan Sanhe’s heart suddenly ached.

For Third Master.

And for Zhu Qing.

She walked to Xie Zhifei’s side and reached out to ruffle his hair, just as he did to hers.

“Xie Daozhi saved him from the King of Hell’s hands. Xie Daozhi healed his wounds and placed him by your side. Xie Daozhi is his great benefactor.

That he passed information to Xie Daozhi is fact. That he stubbornly guarded my secret is also fact.

I hate him for abandoning you for a young woman. I also respect him for abandoning you for a young woman.

Xie Chengyu, the root of the matter doesn’t lie with Zhu Qing.”

Xie Zhifei raised his head to see a pair of calm, clear eyes. In these eyes was understanding, was heartache, was worry, and burning affection.

Yes, the root of this entire matter lay with his father.

Understanding why his father did this was more important than drowning in emotion.

Xie Zhifei stood up, clasping her hand in his palm. “Let’s go. Don’t keep Mingting waiting anxiously.”

“Alright!”

Walking out of the flower hall, they naturally saw the person kneeling in the night.

Xie Zhifei’s pupils contracted slightly, his brow furrowed tight. After a long moment, he suddenly spoke coldly: “Get up. Come to the study and listen together.”

Zhu Qing raised his head in disbelief.

Xie Zhifei had already pulled Yan Sanhe out of the courtyard.

Zhu Qing stood dazed for quite a while before quickly standing and following, his head still bowed low. No one could glimpse anything from his expression.

Only he himself knew—tears had streamed down his face.

…

In the study, Pei Xiao and Xie Daozhi sat at opposite ends, both slowly drinking tea.

Pei Xiao’s slowness carried a trace of barely detectable anxiety.

But Xie Daozhi’s slowness was truly leisurely. The higher one’s position, the less emotions showed on one’s face. Even caught in the act, he remained calm and composed.

The study door was pushed open from outside.

Oh thank goodness, finally here.

Pei Xiao quickly stood up and squeezed his eyes at Yan Sanhe: If you didn’t come soon, this young master was going crazy.

Yan Sanhe, who entered first, pressed down with her gaze: Stay steady.

This hint was both for Pei Xiao and for herself.

Yan Sanhe remembered very clearly—the first time she came to the capital and faced off with Xie Daozhi, they had exchanged moves for several rounds.

If she hadn’t relied on that marriage compatibility document, she would have been no match for the man before her. This person lacked nothing in scheming and methods.

“Buyan, brew hot tea.”

“Yes!”

“Xie Chengyu, sit here.”

Xie Zhifei looked in the direction her finger pointed and discovered that chair was directly opposite his father.

He immediately understood Yan Sanhe’s intention in this arrangement—hoping his father would, for his sake, speak truthfully.

Li Buyan not only brewed hot tea but also conjured two basins of ice like a magic trick, placing one in each of the two south-facing corners.

The study was small. With everyone’s hot breath coming out, the temperature would slowly rise.

Yan Sanhe could only keep her mind clear when the temperature was lower.

Facing Xie Daozhi, Li Buyan clearly knew she needed this kind of calm.

The last to enter was Zhu Qing. He lifted his eyelids to quickly glance at Xie Daozhi, then gently closed the door.

Xie Daozhi suddenly became uncomfortable. “Miss Yan, having the servants all…”

“If I treated them as servants, you wouldn’t have gotten so much information from Zhu Qing.”

Yan Sanhe’s voice was steady: “Every single one of them is a companion who has been through life and death with me.”

These words had an underlying meaning.

The underlying meaning was: you, Xie Daozhi, using your own biological daughter as bait to force the loyal Zhu Qing to reveal Third Master’s whereabouts—what a shameless act.

Xie Daozhi understood, but only smiled faintly.

“Miss Yan, didn’t he tell you that I gave him his very life? Tracing it to the source, I am his true master.”

These words were identical to what Yan Sanhe had said—each word like a needle, piercing Xie Zhifei’s heart. He blurted out:

“Did you kill Yan Xi?”

Xie Daozhi glanced at his son but didn’t answer.

Emotions surged in Xie Zhifei’s eyes. Unable to restrain himself, he shouted: “Father, did you kill Yan Xi? Tell me the truth!”

Xie Daozhi remained silent.

Xie Zhifei’s expression sank, his heart sank too.

Just before he was about to explode in rage, Yan Sanhe suddenly spoke.

“At this point, it’s best to speak out. I’m investigating the Zheng family case under the Crown Prince’s orders. Some things can’t be hidden for long.”

The two words “Crown Prince” pressed down, and Xie Daozhi’s body trembled violently.

“The entire Xie family, so many people—the eldest master, Third Master, all with bright futures ahead—don’t let them all be ruined in the hands of you as their father.”

Yan Sanhe gave as good as she got, directly striking at Xie Daozhi’s vital point.

This vital point could be fatal. No matter how crafty and cunning, no one could withstand it.

Xie Daozhi closed his eyes: “I killed him.”

Even though Xie Zhifei had mentally prepared himself, these four words still shocked him.

Yan Sanhe asked calmly: “How did you kill him?”

Xie Daozhi: “With an arrow, straight through the heart.”

Yan Sanhe: “Who did you send to kill him?”

Xie Daozhi: “If I can cultivate one Zhu Qing, I can cultivate a second, a third. The residence of a dignified cabinet minister will also keep one or two death warriors.”

Li Buyan suddenly interjected: “No matter how formidable the death warrior, they can’t be more formidable than the Crown Prince’s close attendants. How did your people…”

“Long before you arrived, my people had already lurked in the shadows. That strike was lying in wait like a hunter for prey.”

Li Buyan’s mouth opened slightly. Her gaze shifted to Yan Sanhe, then she nodded lightly.

Though she nodded toward Yan Sanhe, everyone in the room saw it. The tiny thread of hope still remaining in Xie Zhifei’s heart completely shattered.

It really was him!

Xie Zhifei took a breath: “Father, why did you kill him?”

Xie Daozhi looked at his youngest son, his eyes showing grief: “For self-preservation.”

“Then…”

Yan Sanhe calmly looked straight at him: “You made him lie?”

Xie Daozhi closed his eyes again and answered: “Yes!”

With that “yes,” everyone’s blood in the room began to boil.

No, not boil—it was as if a fire had been lit, blazing fiercely, burning Old General’s death together with the man before them.

Yan Sanhe even asked impatiently:

“Why did you make him lie?

What’s your relationship with Yan Xi?

What’s the old general’s death got to do with you???”

—

This section about Xie Daozhi is one of the central points of the entire novel. It’s extremely difficult to write. What follows involves powerful logic and the merging of several plot threads. There’s too much information to explain—I can’t write it quickly at all.