Chapter 16: Echoes of the Past

Chapter 16: Past Affairs

"That's because..."

Yan Sanhe's dark gaze locked onto Xie Daozhi, "You still hate him!"

Xie Daozhi's hand trembled, causing the incense stick to fall to the ground.

"I don't..."

Xie Daozhi's lips quivered slightly, "I'm sincere."

"Whether you're sincere or not, the incense would know!"

Yan Sanhe picked up the incense, "Tell me, why do you hate him?"

Xie Daozhi's eyes darted around wildly, and she subconsciously took a step back.

Yan Sanhe advanced a step closer.

"Unless you speak, this enmity will remain unextinguished; as long as it remains, I cannot give you that matchmaking certificate."

This statement was like the final straw that broke the camel's back.

Xie Daozhi could distinctly feel his heart thumping, boom, boom, with each beat spelling out the word "hatred."

"Yan Sanhe, if I don't dissipate this enmity, I'll have to witness your Yan family's downfall with my own eyes."

"Indeed, you may! Apart from me, there is no one else in my grandfather's lineage, but..."

Yan Sanhe shifted his tone decisively: "Given the existence of a formal marriage contract, it is clearly a marriage proper, not merely an act of concubinage. And without a divorce decree, your House of Xie shall not evade its responsibilities!"

"Father!"

"Master!"

Xie Erli and Head Steward Xie both let out an astonished cry in unison.

Xie Daozhi shuddered violently, a tumultuous surge of emotions akin to a mountainous cry and an oceanic roar stirring within his heart.

Yan Sanhe gazed into his eyes, her voice barely short of seductive as she softly asked, "Tell me, why do you hate him so?"

Why?

Xie Daozhi's face twisted in profound pain.

The deepest scar in his heart had suddenly been ripped open. No matter how great or high-ranking he was, it still hurt like a knife twisting in his gut.

After his biological father passed away from illness, their family had been reduced to poverty, with not even enough silver to afford a proper burial.

His mother was beautiful, and at a young age, she had become a widow. For every man in the village who desired her, there were women who despised her.

Unable to make ends meet, mother and son were forced to wander around without a fixed home.

During their most desperate times, they were no different from beggars. Having a full meal was the greatest wish for young Xie Daozhi back then.

A turning point came when he was six years old.

His mother befriended a servant from the Yan family and begged for her help to find temporary work at the Yan residence. With her attractiveness and some literacy, Yan Xing took her in as a concubine.

Without a banquet, without a wedding palanquin, it was simply a matter of his mother donning a new garment.

He couldn't even discern whether his mother was a second wife or a concubine.

Yan Xing came from an esteemed family and held a position in the government, wielding both wealth and power. Shortly after their union, Yan Xing forcefully commanded him to take Yan as his surname.

The rationale was straightforward: Since he ate from the Yan family's table and drank from their cup, the Yan family was his heaven.

Despite his inner resistance, he reluctantly acquiesced for the sake of having enough food to eat.

Upon changing his surname, Yan Xing did not treat him kindly. He found fault at every turn, enforcing strict discipline. Any slight mistake would result in a beating.

Due to his lack of status, he was not even entitled to sit at the dining table.

His mother, because of him, often suffered Yan Xing's scolding for her inability to raise a son properly. In that household, she tip-toed around with extreme caution and humility.

As the unwanted burden, even when battered by Yan Xing's biological sons, he could only endure in silence.

His mother hoped for him to succeed and wished for him to attend the Yan family's scholarly academy. When Yan Xing refused, his mother knelt in the snowy ground, pleading desperately.

For an entire day and night, she knelt there until frostbit and unconsciousness claimed her, only then did Yan Xing relent.

At six years old, he first tasted the power and influence that could force people to bow down.

He held his mother's ice-cold hand, as lifeless as a corpse, without shedding a single tear. Instead, he vowed inwardly to devote himself to studying, to excel and rise above others.

For two long years, he slept only two or three hours each night, pushing himself relentlessly with the ancient methods of self-discipline—hanging his hair from the ceiling beam and piercing his skin with a needle. Even on New Year's Eve, he was alone, buried in books under the lamp.

He believed wholeheartedly that with his relentless efforts, he could alter their destiny, earning respect for his mother and himself from the Yan family. But Yan Xing, without any reason, cast them out.

That day was forever etched in his memory.

The snow fell heavily, and the vermilion gate behind them slammed shut. Tears streamed down his mother's cheeks, her sobs uncontrollable.

In that moment, his hatred for Yan Xing seeped into his very bones.

He swore that one day, he would crush Yan Xing beneath his feet, avenging this humiliation.

"Yan Sanhe!"

Xie Daozhi's gaze devoured her with his eyes.

"Isn't this his true face? Shouldn't I hate him? Shouldn't I!"