Chapter 482: One Wave Subsides, Another Rises (4)

Chapter 482: One Wave Subsides, Another Rises (Part 4)

On Su Rao’s side, she had just received the news brought by Ying Ying about the incident at the Elegant Retreat in the Pleasure District. Meanwhile, on Old Cloud King’s side, a servant arrived holding an exquisite box, seeking an audience with the old king.

Before this, Yun Ji had returned to the Diplomatic Bureau just a step ahead of the servant, allowing the grandfather and grandson to finally meet.

Inside the guest quarters, in the inner chamber, the two sat facing each other—one an elderly man in simple but refined robes, the other a young man in dark attire. At first glance, they appeared to be sharing a drink, but the tense atmosphere made it clear this was no casual gathering. It was a quiet clash between grandfather and grandson.

“Ji'er…”

Suddenly, a sharp call broke the silence. Just as blood trickled from the lips of the young man in black robes, the old man lost his composure first. He hurriedly rose to Yun Ji’s side, fearing another episode of his illness.

But Yun Ji turned slightly away, refusing his grandfather’s concern.

“Grandfather concealing Han Mochen from me—I won’t get angry or lose my temper.”

Taking out YueHua's handkerchief, Yun Ji wiped the blood from his lips before finally meeting Old Cloud King’s gaze. At this close distance, the old king’s face was no longer a blur to Yun Ji.

The marks of time were clear—the streaks of silver at his temples, even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. And yet, his expression was filled with gentle concern for Yun Ji’s condition.

This was Yun Ji’s own grandfather, Rong Xiao’s maternal grandfather. He had protected him, cared for him with unwavering devotion. But in the end, was he truly no different from Uncle Royal?

“Grandfather hid Han Mochen, but he also hid it from Rong Xiao. Rong Xiao has been operating in Dan Liang for years, never realizing he was just another of Grandfather’s pawns—just as Yun Ji is Uncle Royal’s pawn, a tool to use against Dan Liang.”

Yun Ji’s voice was soft, almost gentle. His tone was calm and measured, giving no hint of the turmoil within.

Yet the more composed he seemed, the more Old Cloud King understood—Yun Ji was furious, and beneath that fury lay a deep, burning anguish.

Because of this, the old king’s wrinkled hand, still hovering mid-air with its faint wrinkles, trembled slightly before finally lowering.

“Grandfather, am I truly just a pawn?”

This time, Yun Ji’s voice was no longer soft.

Ever since merging memories with Rong Xiao, the doubts that had long come to light in Rong Xiao’s heart—doubts he had never dared to examine—had surfaced. That day, when Yun Ji had tested Pei Liang using his grandfather’s name, when his grandfather had appeared so conveniently, when he recalled Jing’s earlier actions, when Yun Ling was injured yet taken to the Elegant Retreat—how could he keep feigning ignorance? How could he keep comforting himself?

How could Grandfather be the same as Uncle Royal?

The kingdom-toppling enchantress who had been framed and exiled to Great Qin to die in infamy was his own daughter. The madman who had shattered into three selves was his own grandson. How could Grandfather use him, just like Uncle Royal, as nothing more than a pawn against Dan Liang?

This possibility—Yun Ji had never dared to consider it, had never wanted to believe it. But now, unwilling as he was, he had to accept that it might be the truth.

Rong Xiao was his grandfather’s grandson by blood, but he was also the descendant of the man who had caused his daughter’s death. Perhaps, beyond love, there was also hatred.

Love for Yun Ji, his grandson. Hatred for Rong Xiao, his grandson—the one who carried Rong Ke’s blood.

Faced with this truth, Yun Ji did not feel hatred. Instead, for a brief moment, his chest constricted so sharply he could barely breathe.

He felt himself being dragged back into darkness. He felt Han Mochen, who had been hiding, no longer willing to retreat. He felt himself losing control of this body once more, destined to fade into eternal unconsciousness.

Even if he couldn’t bear to part from Rao Rao.

“Ji'er, the truth is not what you think.”

Just as Yun Ji felt his consciousness slipping away, a voice heavy with sorrow reached his ears—his grandfather’s helpless sigh for his grandson.

The old Cloud King sat back down, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

He let out a long, sorrowful sigh.

Then he finally spoke:

"Back then, Master Hui Shan said that the darkness in your heart ran too deep, and forcibly suppressing it would only backfire."

With just these words from the old Cloud King, the phoenix eyes of Yun Ji, which had lost their light, suddenly shone with an obsidian gleam, cutting straight to Yun Ji's heart, melting away the weight that had enveloped him.

His gaze then fixed firmly on his grandfather, who had just spoken those words to unravel the turmoil in his heart. He said that because of the darkness within him, the only way to save him was to send Han Mochen back to Dan Liang. Only by letting Han Mochen remember those indelible, bone-deep hatreds could he avoid becoming a true madman, lost entirely in the darkness.

Yet both he and Master Hui Shan were deeply worried—worried that if Han Mochen remained consumed by hatred, one day his reason would be overwhelmed by it, devouring Yun Ji entirely. Thus, they had no choice but to conceal it from Han Mochen and set up a separate faction in Dan Liang.

Just in case.

As for why they had to keep it from Rong Xiao, it was Master Hui Shan's suggestion. After all, Yun Ji's condition was unprecedented, and Master Hui Shan could not guarantee whether Han Mochen would also learn of it if Rong Xiao knew.

If that happened, without Yun Ji's self-control, the slaughterous hatred in Han Mochen's heart might drive him to destroy even the old Cloud King—the only one who still gave him any comfort at that time.

If that happened, there would be no one left to save Han Mochen. Rong Xiao's ultimate fate would be to wait to die once his spirit was drained, with no other means of salvation.

"Ji'er, if there were a choice, your grandfather would rather bear it all himself than let my grandson suffer such torment. My branch of the Yun family has only you left as its sole descendant. I have always wished only for your peace and stability in this life, to live safely and securely. As for vengeance and hatred—leave them to me."

His aged hand rose once more, reaching across the table to rest on Yun Ji's head, stroking it affectionately. This time, Yun Ji did not evade the touch. Instead, he suddenly smiled—a soft, fleeting smile.

Like Dan Liang’s gentle breeze, where flowers bloomed in abundance wherever it passed, bright and dazzling.

Yet a single teardrop slid from the corner of his eye, tracing down his fair yet slightly pallid, exquisitely handsome profile.

Yun Ji felt a surge of joy. Apart from Su Rao, this was the second time he had felt such happiness, such delight in his heart. His grandfather—Rong Xiao's maternal grandfather—had not, like Uncle Royal, ultimately abandoned him.

"I’ve never seen Ji'er cry before."

The old Cloud King teased lightly, though his gaze grew distant, as if recalling his beloved daughter shedding tears when she left her parents to marry.

As parents, they had believed their daughter was entering happiness, marrying a good husband. Yet when they saw their emaciated grandson, covered in scars, and their daughter wrongfully dead in the palace of Great Qin, he could scarcely believe it. Only after personally investigating in Dan Liang did he have no choice but to accept the truth.

Had it not been for Xiao Yu's admonishment and the emperor's insistence that Great Qin had just fallen, that the Three Kingdoms needed time to recover, and that Yunlang could not endure another war—as the prince of Yunlang, he had to prioritize the nation and the greater good.

Moreover, his grandson was hanging by a thread. If he had lost his only protector—his maternal grandfather—at that time, no one in Yunlang could have shielded him, nor could he have been granted any other status. The sprawling Cloud King’s manor would have left the young widow and her child with nothing. Even with the emperor's protection, it would have been impossible to ensure their complete safety and stability.

Weighing everything, he had no choice but to endure—until his grandson grew stronger, until the time came when there was no longer any need for restraint.