Chapter 102#

Understand the Principle of “Father’s Status Rises with Child”?#

The story begins on a snowy night. In the grand estate of the Tantai clan in Lizhou, within a brightly lit inner chamber, a baby girl was born. Tantai Jing was four years old at the time, standing under the eaves holding his father’s hand, waiting. He was the heir of the Tantai clan. Ever since he could speak, three tutors had followed him day and night, teaching him not to walk too quickly, to sit as straight as a pine, and even to maintain a proper posture while sleeping. At four, he had already learned to conceal joy and anger. The heir of the Tantai clan should be like a statue in a temple, gazed upon by others—and as a statue, he could not show emotions. Even though he was curious about his newborn sister in the warm room, he stood firmly under the eaves, as still as a mountain.

The torreya wood door of the warm room was pushed open. The midwife, holding a lock of gray fetal hair with both hands, knelt before his father.

“Congratulations, Grand Patriarch! The Tantai clan has gained another bearer of the Blizzard Secret Art!”

His father took the lock of hair, but showed no joy. Young Tantai Jing heard a faint sigh.

From then on, Tantai Jing had a younger sister. At that time, the realm was not at peace. His parents were away fighting, clad in armor. Though he was only six, as the elder brother, he had to take on the responsibility of looking after his sister. His parents taught him to cherish his little sister, and he was always obedient. So when she crawled up to him, drooling, grabbing his long hair with her saliva-covered fingers, and rolling around in his arms, he endured patiently, not moving, and continued reading.

But soon, a pungent smell of urine reached him. He looked down and met Tantai Xun’s round eyes.

Tantai Xun pinched her nose, looking innocent. “Brother, pee.”

Tantai Jing: “…”

People shouldn’t have sisters, he thought silently.

Tantai Xun started suffering from headaches at the age of five, two years earlier than Tantai Jing’s own onset. Headaches were a hereditary ailment of the Tantai clan. A separate courtyard in the estate was dedicated to housing healing secret artists from all directions. Every few days, a healer would rush to Tantai Xun’s courtyard with a medicine box. She was only five, a little girl. Such intense pain—Tantai Jing could endure it, but she could not.

He kept vigil for her at night, stroking her sweat-soaked forehead. She murmured “Father” and “Mother” in her dreams. He wrote letters to their parents, begging them to come back to see A-Xun. The parents at the front did not return, but instead sent back a burly military officer built like a tiger. From that day on, Tantai Xun began martial arts training.

He couldn’t understand. Why, when she was already tortured by illness, did she have to get up at cockcrow to practice horse stance and swing wooden swords at wooden posts until late at night? He stopped A-Xun’s master and asked him to send word to their parents to delay her training. The tall man refused to take his letter and said, “Heir, the Tantai clan does not raise weaklings who surrender to illness.”

“She’s only five,” Tantai Jing said.

“You started learning what you needed to learn at three, and by five you could recite hundreds of poems and books,” the man said. “If she hadn’t inherited the Blizzard, she could be like the other girls of the Tantai clan—pampered, learning needlework, waiting to grow up and marry. But she inherited the Blizzard. She is destined to bear the clan’s great responsibilities and the realm’s justice. To walk this path, starting at five is already late.”

Tantai Jing frowned deeply. He was a delicate child, and frowning gave him an air of a little adult. He knew the hardship of training. Other children played and laughed, while he could only sit alone in his study, reading over and over. At nine, he was solitary, friendless, and couldn’t even recognize all his cousins within the clan.

He didn’t want his sister to live such a barren life.

“I can walk this path alone,” Tantai Jing said, lifting his head.

The man laughed heartily, stroking his beard. “The Tantai clan is indeed the Tantai clan. You children truly amaze me. But, heir, you shouldn’t make decisions for A-Xun. If she wants to give up, let her come tell me herself.”

That evening, he sat opposite A-Xun. The little girl was too small to sit cross-legged properly and kept slouching. He propped her up with an armrest, accidentally brushing her lotus-root-like arm. She gasped and quickly pulled her arm back. He rolled up her sleeve, revealing many bruises on her tender skin—marks from training with the wooden post. The post had a star formation underneath, causing it to spin automatically. If she didn’t dodge in time, the horizontal rods on the post would strike her.

“A-Xun,” Tantai Jing said, “do you want to give up?”

She shook her head like a rattle-drum.

“Why?” he asked.

“Brother is so thin. If someone hits you in the future, I want to chase them away.”

Tantai Jing stressed, “I am not thin.”

“Your waist isn’t as thick as Master’s arm,” Tantai Xun said solemnly. “A-Xun will get stronger to protect you. Whatever path you walk, A-Xun will walk it with you.”

She was still a child. Tantai Jing shouldn’t have taken her words seriously. But perhaps because he was also a child, children never took promises made to each other lightly.

“Alright,” Tantai Jing said. “My path is not lonely. A-Xun will accompany me.”

A year later, the Tantai siblings’ parents returned. But they did not greet their father—they only welcomed his coffin. The Tantai clan announced that the Grand Patriarch had died from a stray arrow. That was not the truth. Tantai Jing learned from his mother that his father had taken his own life. Even though every Blizzard secret artist was raised to believe that succumbing to pain was cowardice, many still preferred to be called cowards rather than endure the torment.

While the siblings kept vigil for their father, a wandering physician knocked on the Tantai clan’s gates. This physician was the later-renowned White-Robed Master, Ming Ruowu. He brought the Tantai clan the prescription for the Tai Sui Pill, which could cure the side effects of the Blizzard Secret Art. Unfortunately, there was only one purple-gold Tai Sui, and only one pill could be made. The siblings’ mother and the acting patriarch, their uncle, discussed it all night, then summoned Tantai Xun. They told her the truth about the pill. “A-Xun, you must understand. Your brother is the heir. The Tantai clan absolutely cannot have another Grand Patriarch who dies by his own hand.”

Six-year-old Tantai Xun carried the meal with the pill inside and personally delivered it to Tantai Jing, watching him finish eating.

By the time Tantai Jing learned the truth, it was too late.

“I agreed to it,” Tantai Xun said. “So I brought the meal.”

“Why did you do that?” Beneath his wide sleeves, his hands were clenched into fists. He rarely showed such emotion.

Those cowardly adults, unwilling to let Tantai Jing hate them, chose ignorant little A-Xun to do the deed. A-Xun was too young—how could she understand what losing the Tai Sui Pill meant?

But he was wrong. She understood.

“Brother, I am very strong,” Tantai Xun said, looking into his eyes. “I’m afraid you aren’t strong enough.”

From that day on, Tantai Xun never missed a day of training. Without the Tai Sui Pill to cure her illness, she built a heart as hard as iron to withstand the pain. Everyone told her to be strong. The Tantai clan considered those who surrendered to pain as cowards and shame, and she had to become the clan’s glory. She was indeed strong. Whether in scorching heat or bitter cold, she never gave up. Later, they moved to the border capital, and Tantai Xun entered the military camp. She was only twelve then. Standing on the platform, wielding a red-tasseled spear, her bearing was so valiant that no one could defeat her. Some said she must have used secret arts—who could stand against the Blizzard? But in the palace, Tantai Jing received reports that she had never used any secret art at all.

She began to campaign with the army, sometimes venturing deep into the snowy frontier, often not returning for years. From various places in Dajing, she sent Tantai Jing strange trinkets—sometimes an ordinary stone with an odd shape that she treasured. Her letters were so lighthearted, as if her campaigns were mere play. But scouts delivered to Tantai Jing the truth of her situation: life-and-death breakthroughs on the battlefield, cave-ins in the snowy mines, the freezing blizzards… She walked between life and death every day.

Tantai Jing turned twenty. He should have long ascended to the position of Grand Patriarch. But his uncle tightly held the reins of power, using the excuse that Tantai Jing was not yet married and refusing to relinquish control. Power turned relatives into enemies. Tantai Jing understood that in this world, the only ones he could trust were his blood siblings. His uncle’s persecution grew increasingly blatant. His first target was not Tantai Jing in the border capital, but Tantai Xun, far away at the frontier. When Tantai Jing was twenty-three, on a day when A-Xun was supposed to return from the front, he received news of her death. A scout knelt at his feet, saying she had died in an ambush in the Black Street, her body torn apart by snow wolves.

White funeral banners were hung in Lizhou. His mother wept bitterly. The coffin was transported from the snowy frontier to the border capital. His uncle hypocritically held Tantai Jing’s hands, his face covered in tears. Tantai Jing coldly withdrew his hands and looked out of the North Star Hall. At the end of the Heavenly Street, the sound of deep, resonant hoofbeats arose, like rumbling war drums. An army in black armor descended like gods, trampling his uncle’s guard into pulp under their horses’ hooves.

His uncle stood stunned. An iron arrow flew straight toward him, piercing his throat and nailing him to a stone pillar in the North Star Hall that took three men to encircle.

The iron-blooded woman who held the bow dismounted. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, she strode into the North Star Hall, passing her own coffin, and knelt before Tantai Jing. The wind and snow could not extinguish the fiery brightness and murderous aura that surrounded her. Her voice was clear and forceful, each word landing with weight.

“Tantai Xun pays homage to the Grand Patriarch!”

The ministers suddenly understood. They knelt one after another and shouted in unison, “We pay homage to the Grand Patriarch!”

So, stepping through his uncle’s blood, he ascended the ninefold white jade steps and sat on the cold stone throne. His sister had paved his path with her blood, and he granted her unparalleled glory.

“My sister, Tantai Xun, Secret Sect Princess of Dajing,” he declared, “shall command the thirteen garrisons as Grand General, with an additional fief of ten thousand households, and be granted the title ‘Suwu’.”

The direct line of the Tantai clan once again held power. But at the beginning, their footing was unstable, especially since Tantai Jing was too young. At that time, he was not yet a Chaotic Saint realm secret artist. He had the “Blizzard” but not the cultivation level to command respect. Discontent stirred across the land. Several noble houses openly refused to pay tribute to the border capital. At the Great Court Assembly, which should have included lords from forty-eight provinces, only a quarter showed up.

In the vast North Star Hall, officials stood sparsely. Tantai Xun dragged in a huge map and slammed it down on the floor. She drew her horizontal blade and pointed at the provinces on the map. “Brother, point where you want, and I’ll strike there.”

Tantai Xun went on campaign again, leading her army from north to south. She did not return to the border capital for four years. By the time she came back for the Great Court Assembly, not a single lord from the forty-eight provinces was absent. The tribute convoy stretched from the palace to the outskirts of the border capital. From then on, all forty-eight provinces submitted. Dajing enjoyed over forty years of peace, and Tantai Jing’s reputation as the Kunlun Secret Sect Patriarch spread far and wide.

However, the realm was not truly stable. Accumulated problems grew heavier each day.

The most serious issue was population. The forty-eight provinces could no longer contain the bloated masses. People spread like insects into every habitable corner. The more people, the more landless refugees. This problem had already surfaced during their father’s reign. After Tantai Jing ascended, the Black Street, composed of refugees, had grown into a formidable force. Tantai Jing planned the Classification Law, dividing the people into three classes, with the lowest to be expelled beyond the Great Wall. Though cruel, it was a necessary measure for stability.

Besides the headaches of state affairs, his sister also gave him no peace. Over forty years, the siblings had both become Chaotic Saint realm secret artists, their lifespans far exceeding ordinary people. A-Xun’s appearance hadn’t changed much since her southern campaign, but her behavior had become far more reckless.

Recently, she had returned from the snowy frontier. At the beginning of the year, he had sent her to inspect the situation of refugees in various regions. Among all the officials, only she dared to speak bluntly, so he trusted her most for the task. She recounted her observations—roving bandits in the countryside, fierce outlaws in the mountains, Black Street mines in the snowy frontier… After finishing official business, she brought up personal matters. “I brought someone back.”

He had already heard rumors. As soon as she entered the border capital, word spread that a young gentleman had appeared at her side. The girl had grown up and would eventually start a family. He had prepared himself for that, but even he didn’t notice a hint of loneliness in his eyes.

“Are you going to marry that person?” He raised his long brows.

“Marry?” Tantai Xun seemed astonished. “What marriage? I never thought about marrying.”

A misunderstanding. Tantai Jing felt a slight relief.

“Grant me a separate residence. I won’t live in the palace anymore,” Tantai Xun continued. “You like quiet, and my paramour and I are inconvenienced. Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention—he’s my new paramour, named Su Guanyu. He’s very handsome. Brother, I never thought there could be a man more beautiful than you!”

“…”

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Tantai Jing was furious. “Preposterous!” he roared.

Outside the North Star Hall, the guards suddenly felt a bone-chilling cold. Looking down, they saw frost and ice crystals crackling from within the hall, spreading to their feet. A servant scrambled out, shouting, “Something terrible! The Grand Patriarch and Princess Xun are fighting!”

Su Guanyu had originally been a private tutor in the Liu family of Jiangzhou. But in Dajing, where nobles and commoners were clearly separated, he—a commoner with neither noble blood nor secret arts—was just mud beneath the feet of the aristocracy. He didn’t care. He took the tutoring job just to make a living. To avoid trouble, he had even darkened his face and painted on several black moles.

He made himself too ugly. The children in the family school teased him daily, calling him “Ugly Freak” and making up nursery rhymes to mock him. The eldest son of the Liu family was a notorious libertine in Jiangzhou, obsessed with beauty, keeping countless courtesans and male lovers in his courtyard. Su Guanyu’s greatest fear was this man. Fortunately, the man had explicitly forbidden Su Guanyu from entering the inner quarters, claiming his face was an eyesore. Thus, Su Guanyu escaped that trouble.

One day, as usual, he carried his book bag to the family school. The children, as usual, teased him, sticking a note saying “Ugly Freak” on his back. Outside the school, a large group approached. A tall woman in red was surrounded by the Liu family. That woman was Tantai Xun, on her inspection tour. She crossed her arms and looked at the man on the platform, who sat calmly amidst the jeers. She couldn’t help but marvel. “That face…”

The eldest Liu son hurried forward. “Quickly, throw Su Guanyu out! He’s so ugly, he’ll offend Her Highness’s eyes.”

The Liu family members moved to drag Su Guanyu out, but Tantai Xun raised her hand to stop them. Her guards took over from the Liu family and brought Su Guanyu before her. Even though he was held like a prisoner, Su Guanyu maintained a composed demeanor. That bearing caught Tantai Xun’s attention.

“Oh dear, Your Highness,” the eldest Liu son said anxiously, “it’s truly our Liu family’s fault for hiring such an ugly demon who displeases you.”

“Shut up,” Tantai Xun said, glancing at him. “Bring an oiled cloth.”

A guard handed her a cloth. Tantai Xun crouched down and wiped Su Guanyu’s face. Su Guanyu was slightly stunned. The woman meticulously cleaned his cheeks. The white cloth turned black, and he saw the wide eyes of everyone around, especially the eldest Liu son, whose eyes were nearly popping out.

The black stains were wiped clean. His clear, handsome features emerged like a lotus rising from water, radiant.

Tantai Xun said, “These eyes of mine don’t just distinguish good and evil—they also distinguish beauty and ugliness. You only painted your face, not your hands. Your face and hands are two different colors. Didn’t you notice?”

Su Guanyu sighed. “Your Highness has a keen eye. I am impressed.”

“Would you like to be my attendant?” Tantai Xun lifted his chin.

The eldest Liu son showed an anxious and unwilling expression.

Su Guanyu turned his head, avoiding her fingers, and bowed deeply. “Thank you for your favor, Your Highness. But I am unwilling to serve through my appearance. I beg Your Highness’s mercy.”

“Since you’re unwilling, forget it,” Tantai Xun said, shrugging. “I never force anyone.”

She left with her hands behind her back. The eldest Liu son breathed a sigh of relief and glanced back at Su Guanyu several times. Anyone could see the lecherous malice in his eyes. Su Guanyu sighed inwardly. He couldn’t stay in Jiangzhou. He had to leave as soon as possible.

He hired a few guards and, with an old servant, packed up that night and fled Jiangzhou. On the official road out of the city, they were indeed ambushed. The attackers were masked, but Su Guanyu immediately recognized the leader as a thug under the eldest Liu son—half the beauties in the Liu family’s backyard had been kidnapped by him. Su Guanyu’s guards were too few, and they were soon overwhelmed. Just as the attackers were about to close in, Su Guanyu frowned, sitting in his carriage. Then he saw Tantai Xun appear in the woods on horseback, followed by her black-armored guard.

The Liu family stopped, at a loss, looking at each other.

Su Guanyu cupped his hands toward her. “I beg the princess for aid.”

Tantai Xun rode slowly past the road. “I’m just passing by. Continue.”

The Liu family relaxed and resumed their attack.

His old servant was anxious for him. Tantai Xun and the Liu family—it was like jumping from one fire into another. But comparatively, the valiant Tantai Xun was easier to accept than the rat-faced Liu son. Besides, his young master detested male intimacy.

The old servant tugged at his sleeve, sobbing. “Master, just give in.”

“I am willing to be the princess’s attendant,” Su Guanyu said to Tantai Xun, bowing his head.

Tantai Xun pulled the reins and halted beside his carriage.

“I never force anyone,” she said.

Su Guanyu said, “Su is willing to serve at the princess’s pillow and mat.”

Tantai Xun patted her saddle. Su Guanyu sat stiffly for a moment, then dismounted and climbed onto her horse. The saddle was so narrow. Her straight back pressed against his chest. Tantai Xun whistled, and her guard charged into the fray, scattering the Liu family. She cracked her whip, and the horse galloped. Without thinking, he gripped her waist.

He sighed lowly, his voice thick with bitterness. “I’m afraid the princess will never win Su’s heart.”

Tantai Xun laughed heartily. “Why would I want your heart? Can I slice it up and eat it with rice? I don’t want your heart—I just want your body.”

Tantai Xun wasn’t lying. All she wanted was Su Guanyu’s body. She never asked about his past. Whether he had a lover or had been married, she didn’t care at all. But before entering the palace, Tantai Xun laid out the rules. “I don’t have many demands for you. Whether you want to play the zither or the zheng, I don’t mind. Whatever you like, just tell me. Even if you want a star from the sky, I’ll find a way to bring it down for you. The accountant will give you a monthly allowance of fifty taels. If that’s not enough, I’ll increase it. I have only one requirement—” She paused. “Once you enter my residence, from the tips of your hair to your toenails, everything belongs to me. I’m not magnanimous. If you dare to stray, I’ll cut you off, roots and all.”

After that, she went to see Tantai Jing. When she returned, her face was bruised and swollen. Su Guanyu asked what happened. She said she got hit by a carriage. “Until the separate residence is ready, don’t go out much. Beware of my brother. He’s jealous because you’re more handsome than him.”

The Grand Patriarch was a man of high moral character. Su Guanyu didn’t need to think hard to know that Tantai Xun taking a paramour had displeased him. Su Guanyu knew when to be sensible and quietly agreed.

Life in the border capital was comfortable. Within the palace, he could go anywhere except places where Tantai Jing was sure to pass. His favorite spot was the library, which housed rare books unavailable in small towns like Jiangzhou. Even after moving to the separate residence, he often went to the palace to read. Tantai Xun’s summons were very regular. She wanted him to join her for all three meals, saying his face helped her appetite. And when her headaches struck, she liked him to play the zither or flute. He could also play the erhu, but she didn’t want to hear it. There was no easier job than being Tantai Xun’s paramour. Except for the exhausting nights, the rest of the time was like a carefree cloud.

The only downside was the gossip. Whenever he went out, people pointed at his carriage, whispering that he used his charm to curry favor and was skilled in bed. He was gentle by nature, indifferent to such rumors. Sometimes, even if hurt, he would just sit silently by his zither and shed a few tears. But unfortunately, even though he said nothing, his servants would inform Tantai Xun.

Tantai Xun secretly went to check on him. He was sitting facing his zither, quietly weeping. Tantai Xun shook her head and clicked her tongue. How could someone look so beautiful even when crying?

One day, when he returned to the residence, he found those who had gossiped about him kneeling in the hall, crying bitterly. They crawled on their knees to kowtow to him, slapping their own faces and swearing never to do it again.

He looked surprised, then forgave them. He asked the servants to send them away. Turning back, he saw Tantai Xun leaning under the eaves in dark robes, shaking her head. “Why are you so softhearted? Their tears are fake. People like that won’t learn unless you cut out their tongues.”

He smiled faintly. “It’s hard to block the mouths of the many. I can stop those before me, but not those far away. Better to let them be. When they tire of talking, they’ll stop.”

Tantai Xun laughed. “Lucky you met me. Someone like you, always turning the other cheek, would be bullied to death. Remember, you’re my man. When you’re with me, if there’s a grievance, take revenge. If there’s a debt, collect it. No need to endure, no need to hide, no need to cry in secret.”

Sure enough, on his next outing, he heard no more nasty gossip. Back in Jiangzhou, his looks always attracted ruffians. Even if no one bothered him, the stares of passersby were unpleasant. He used to wear a veil to cover his face, but Tantai Xun took it off, saying no one would dare look at him with disrespect. She was right. When he bought things, the vendors wouldn’t even lift their heads.

At night, she sat while he combed her hair. Looking at his loose hair in the mirror, she said, “Your parents came to the palace today.”

The comb in his hand paused. He widened his eyes in surprise.

“I don’t care about your past, but my nosy brother dug up everything about you. So as soon as your parents entered the border capital, I knew. You ran away from home as a child, so I figured you didn’t want to see them. I sent them off—they won’t bother you anymore.” She scratched her head. “Don’t worry. I didn’t make things hard for them. I gave them plenty of benefits.”

He said hoarsely, “They sold me. I stopped recognizing them as parents long ago. Your Highness didn’t need to satisfy them.”

She pinched his cheek. “Who else but them could have made you so handsome? See? I told you—lucky you met me. With a face like this, even dogs would covet you. You can’t carry a load or lift a hand—who could you fight?” She pinched his shoulder again, clicking her tongue. “And your body is weak. You can’t do heavy work. You need to be pampered with ginseng and antler in your medicine. If I weren’t rich, an ordinary family couldn’t afford to keep you.”

He smiled bitterly. “As Your Highness says.”

He lowered his lashes and thought quietly. There was another downside to being a paramour: you couldn’t fall in love.

Sooner or later, Tantai Xun would take a second paramour, then a third, a fourth. He was just an ordinary man, aging quickly. In a few years, there would be no place for him by her side. The danger of others taking his place was ever-present. She was powerful and often had social engagements. Sometimes she drank late into the night and stayed out. He never asked about her life outside—that wasn’t a paramour’s business.

But perhaps because he was too kind, the servants grew close to him and willingly passed on news about her. One night, assuming she wasn’t coming back, he prepared for bed. A young servant named Jiang Huai rushed back in panic. “Master, saddle your horse and go to the inn! The head of the Buku Pass Sang family has gotten Her Highness drunk and is trying to push someone into her bed!”

He smiled bitterly. “No need. If Her Highness likes that young man, I should defer to her wishes.”

“But—” Jiang Huai wanted to say more, but Su Guanyu shut him out.

After another incense stick’s time, he was woken up. Opening his eyes, he saw Tantai Xun sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off her shoes, reeking of alcohol.

“Your Highness wasn’t supposed to come back?” he asked in surprise.

“Who said I wasn’t?” she said. “I sent Jiang Huai to fetch you to take me home. Why didn’t you come? That Li fellow always likes to shove his flirts at me. I wanted to use you as an excuse—say you’re jealous—to turn him down, but you didn’t cooperate. I had to send someone to find my brother. He’ll drag me back, but tomorrow he’ll definitely scold me… So annoying.”

She was dizzy from drink. She struggled with her shoes for a while, then gave up and fell asleep.

“Does Your Highness not want a new paramour?” he asked in her ear.

“Want my foot…” she mumbled. “Pig faces and dog heads… I don’t care for them…”

He looked at her, his gaze complicated. He couldn’t help reaching out a finger to trace her features. What a woman obsessed with looks, he thought.

Peaceful days didn’t last. The Black Street attacked Buku Pass. Many soldiers from the Sang family died. In the court, voices urging the Classification Law grew louder. Several times after court, Tantai Xun returned home with a dark face. She opposed the Classification Law. Su Guanyu understood her thinking. Already, nobles and commoners were separated by a chasm. If the people were divided into three classes, what difference would there be between life and ants? And expelling the lowest class to the snowy frontier?

“If you ask me, those pushing the Classification Law are enemies of the people,” Tantai Xun said angrily.

“Your Highness, be careful!” Su Guanyu covered her mouth. “The Grand Patriarch is the foremost proponent of the Classification Law.”

“So what if I scold him?” Tantai Xun pushed his hand away. “The Tantai clan bears the realm’s justice. The Classification Law is a law of rebellion. The more ‘bandits’ we create, the more refugees. This will only strengthen the Black Street. Suppression treats symptoms, not the root. The only way out is to seek a new land in the snowy frontier.”

“The snowy frontier is freezing, with frequent blizzards. Exploring it is no easy task,” Su Guanyu said, shaking his head.

Tantai Xun looked at the distant sky outside the window. “Someone has to go.”

Su Guanyu sensed something, but she said nothing. If something happened to her, he wouldn’t fare well either. She was right—if he hadn’t met her, he would have been ruined long ago. But he didn’t fear the dangers ahead. He only feared being separated from her. After that day, she never mentioned the expedition to the snowy frontier again, and he didn’t ask. As the New Year approached, she brought him to Lizhou for the first time.

He sat at a table with the family’s dependents, surrounded by Tantai descendants. No one spoke to him. He remained calm and ate alone. But unfortunately, he was clumsy and accidentally knocked over a young boy’s chopsticks and bowl. The boy noticed him and glared. “What slave dares to sit at our table and eat with us? Didn’t your mistress teach you manners? Get up! Kneel under the table and serve us!”

The boy was a great-grandson of the second branch. By “mistress,” he meant Tantai Xun. Su Guanyu didn’t want to argue with a child. He stood to leave.

But the boy blocked his way. “Kneel, or I’ll break your legs!”

Clearly a spoiled young master. Su Guanyu believed he would indeed break his legs.

Just as Su Guanyu was about to reason with him, a flash of crimson entered his sight. The boy saw the newcomer. “Grandaunt! Your slave is so disrespectful—he dared to sit at our table! Punish him! Teach him a lesson!”

Su Guanyu saw Tantai Xun wasn’t angry; she was even smiling. His heart grew bitter. Of course, a paramour meant less than a blood relative.

“Who are you calling a slave?” Tantai Xun asked the boy.

The boy pointed at Su Guanyu.

Tantai Xun slowly looked over. “Who said he’s a slave? He’s your granduncle! You have quite the nerve, wanting your granduncle to kneel and serve you?”

At these words, Su Guanyu stood frozen. He instinctively looked up at her. She was calm, as if she hadn’t said anything earth-shattering.

The whole hall erupted. The boy’s mother stood up. “Second Aunt, you can’t say that! Do you mean to marry this commoner? Does the old matriarch know? Does the Grand Patriarch know? How can a commoner, a waste without secret arts, enter the Tantai clan’s door?”

Tantai Xun’s face turned cold. “I say he can, so he can. He’s the father of the child in my belly. Who else would marry me? Unless you want my child to call you ‘father’?”

Tantai Xun’s mother, the old matriarch of the Tantai family, tottered in. “A-Xun, are you pregnant?”

Tantai Xun said, “Yes. Does that permit him to enter the family?”

“Permit, of course!” The old matriarch wept with joy. “You and your brother have been so focused on state affairs that you have no heirs. Now you finally have one. This is a great blessing! Quickly, bring a seat for the son-in-law!”

Everyone suddenly became solicitous toward Su Guanyu. He frowned at Tantai Xun. When had she become pregnant? He had no idea.

Tantai Xun ignored his puzzled look and kicked the boy who had been shouting. “Kneel and serve your granduncle during the meal.”

The boy cried, refusing to kneel. But Tantai Xun’s gaze was so dark that he didn’t dare disobey.

The boy’s mother looked to the old matriarch for help. The old matriarch only wanted Tantai Xun to be happy and have more children, so she said nothing.

The boy slowly bent his knees. Su Guanyu moved to help him up, but Tantai Xun grabbed his wrist.

“Accept it,” Tantai Xun said. “From now on, whoever kneels to you, you accept.”

Tantai Xun kept her word. The boy knelt beside Su Guanyu for the entire meal.

That night, they returned to their room to sleep. After the lamp was out, he whispered by her pillow, “When did you become pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m not pregnant,” Tantai Xun said. “I lied to save your face. Understand the principle of ‘father’s status rises with child’?”

He sighed helplessly. “The old matriarch is so old. And you tricked her?”

“Then we’d better make one,” she said. “I never said how far along I am. It’s not too late to conceive now. Really, you’re too weak. No sign of a child after so long. Starting tomorrow, you’ll practice boxing with me.”

He gently hugged her. “Does Your Highness truly wish to marry me?”

“Sure, why not,” she said, eyes closed. “I’m used to having you around anyway. I’ve already thought of a name for the child—Su Ruhui.”

“Why that name?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It just came to me,” she murmured.

He wanted to ask more, but she was already asleep.

He fell silent, gazing at her profile so close. He understood now why she had done all this—why she suddenly brought him to Lizhou, why she suddenly wanted to marry him and have a child. She was determined to go to the snowy frontier. That place was a death trap. Before leaving, she wanted to secure a path for him. With the identity of Tantai Xun’s husband and her child, he wouldn’t be bullied anymore. For the child’s sake, Tantai Jing would protect him.

He pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her forehead.

A man of low birth shouldn’t fall in love, he knew clearly. His body was no longer his own. If he gave away his heart too, he would truly have nothing left. But he couldn’t control himself. His heart pounded, as if trying to leap into Tantai Xun’s palm.

“Your Highness, since I am your husband now, can I call you A-Xun?” he asked softly.

Tantai Xun was already fast asleep. She didn’t answer.

He curved his eyes. “You didn’t say no, so I’ll take that as yes.”

“A-Xun.”