Chapter 39: Father

Chapter 39: Father

In the Zhen'en Hall.

In the inner chamber.

Xie Daozhi shared Yan Xing's haunting secret with the matriarch, who listened with tears streaming down her face, not uttering a sound for a long while.

Gently pressing against his still sore heart, Xie Daozhi said, "Mother, I want to keep that child."

The matriarch's eyes lit up.

"But we'll have to figure out a way to do so," she replied, wiping away her tears. "We owe them so much, it would take generations to repay!"

"Grandmother, Father."

Seeing the grim expressions on the elders' faces, Xie Erli composed himself and said, "This matter cannot be rushed. We need to carefully consider our options."

After days of tension, Xie Daozhi fatigue overwhelmed him as he spoke to his son, "Stay with your grandmother, I'll go rest in my chambers."

"I'll escort you, Father."

"No need."

Xie Daozhi stumbled back to his study, slumping alone into a grand armchair. He pondered Yan Xing's future, his inner demons, a mix of sorrow and helplessness swirling within him.

As sleep overtook him, he lacked the energy to even climb onto his bed, instead collapsing onto the desk.

Strangely, his body began to float weightlessly.

He drifted to a courtyard where all other houses were shrouded in darkness except for a lit west chamber, from which voices could be heard.

"There's a breeze outside, child. It's time for bed."

"Mother, please go to sleep first. I want to practice writing a bit more."

"Your calligraphy, your tutor has praised it highly."

"But he didn't praise me."

"All day 'he this' and 'he that'. Is it so hard to call me 'Father'?"

"Mama!"

"Alright, alright, alright, I won't say anything."

The young woman stepped out of the house and stopped in the courtyard, letting out a long sigh.

Xie Daozhi's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he hovered in mid-air.

It was actually his mother.

Then, who was that person in the room? Was it him?

Yes, it was eight-year-old Xie Daozhi.

Little Daozhi rubbed his sore wrist and resumed writing with his brush.

"Bang!"

The window was pushed open by the wind, sending papers on the desk fluttering.

He hurried to close it, only to raise his gaze and spot a figure emerging from the depths of the night.

As the person drew closer, their attire was simple yet elegant, with profound eyes that seemed to hold the stars.

The young servant's nervous hands didn't know where to rest.

"Writing something?"

"Mm-hmm!"

"Let me have a look."

Rushing to the writing desk, he tried to select a sheet that would make a good impression.

"Any one will do," the person said casually.

The humble attendant dared not delay, hastily selecting a slip and passing it over without daring to lift his gaze, only stealing glances at the man's expression with the corner of his eye.

The man furrowed his brow.

It's over!

Thinking to himself, the attendant knew he was in trouble and braced himself for scolding.

"I...I'll rewrite it later," he said, lowering his head.

"You've written it well."

"Huh?"

"You've written it very well, especially these few strokes. They exhibit great character."

A surge of immense joy welled up within the attendant, causing his nose to twitch and tears to fall.

"Why are you crying?" the man asked.

"You've never praised me before, this is the first time."

The man took a handkerchief from his bosom and offered it to her. "Are you really that bothered?"

"I..."

Xiaodaozi accepted the handkerchief, her face turning crimson. She felt a bit unreasonable.

But, she truly was bothered.

Gathering his courage, he said, "I've been working so hard, putting in so much effort, just so you would see, so you could...praise me once."

The man scolded, "Shallow!"

"Where am I shallow?"

Xiaodaozi felt too wronged. "You're more formidable than all the scholars, their praise doesn't count. Yours does."

"Even my praise doesn't count. There are those more skilled than me."

"Who could be more capable than you? I refuse to believe it!"

The man gently shook his head.

"There is a vast world out there, but when you stand in your limited space, you can only see what's within it. You need to move forward."

Upon hearing this, Xie Daozhi, suspended mid-air, couldn't hold back any longer. He yelled, "Is this the reason why you let my mother and me go?"

The moment his voice echoed, an immense force pulled him downwards.

Before he could utter another sound, he found himself inside Xiao Daozhi's body.

Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that his body was growing at an unbelievable speed, instantly transforming into his forty-eight-year-old self.

The faded clothes were replaced with an imposing official robe.

The man's expression remained unchanged as he sighed, "Look how far you've come now."

"I..."

Xie Daozhi was rendered speechless.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed the person's face was etched with wrinkles like old tree bark, except for their bright, clear eyes that radiated an innate arrogance and dignity.

"I actually didn't know I had inner demons. People often see clearly in others but not themselves."

The person sighed softly, "It was still greediness!"

"No, it was me and Mother who wronged you."

"That no longer matters now."

But it does matter, Xie Daozhi thought to himself. It matters greatly to me.

"You are a good person."

"I am a man who squandered away his family's fortune."

"Not at all!"

Xie Daozhi felt a pang of sorrow and distress.

"You are an innocent soul, and this corrupt world cannot accommodate purity. It's not your fault; it's the fault of this world, our fault as its inhabitants."

The man's gaze lingered on his face for a long while.

For the first time, Xie Daozhi bravely met his eyes, tears welling up in his own.

"Water that is too clear has no fish. Don't blame yourself. Your existence allows us to see how filthy, dark, and ugly our consciences truly are."

Upon hearing this, the man remained expressionless, neither joyful nor sorrowful, as if he was listening to something unrelated to him.

"I'm not trying to flatter you; every word I speak is true."

"I understand."

The man turned away with his hands behind his back, his gaze seemingly fixed on nothing in particular.

"In this world, life is but a grand illusion, and how many autumn chills does one experience in a lifetime? Being called a 'good person' is perhaps the cruelest title of all."

Xie Daozhi's face flushed with embarrassment, his neck reddening.

His previous words were as condescending as the official robes he wore, carrying an unprecedented air of frivolity.

Just as he was at a loss for what to do, the man suddenly turned around.

They faced each other, eyes meeting eyes.

The night was pitch black;

the candle flame danced in the breeze.

"It's better to be an ordinary person in this world," he spoke slowly, a tinge of sorrow in his voice, "for even common folk have their own hardships to bear."

The man extended his hand slowly, placing it on Xie Daozhi's head, and gently rubbed.

"My child, take care of yourself!"

This single term of endearment shattered Xie Daozhi's already guilt-ridden and humiliated heart. Tears cascaded down his cheeks like a dam breaking loose.

"Father—"

Xie Daozhi cried out, abruptly waking from his dream.

Through his tear-streaked vision, he saw Third Brother's face leaning in close.

"Father, what's wrong... Why aren't you speaking?!"

Xie Daozhi closed his eyes. The warmth where that person had touched the crown of his head spread through his meridians, searing his heart.

This was the warmth he had yearned for over four decades;

This was the familial affection he had waited for forty years.

At last, he had obtained it.

Nor will it ever be regained.

Tears began to roll down Xie Daozhi's cheeks once more.

"San'er, this father of yours will have no parent for the rest of his life!"