OL CH7

On the other side, having returned to the Marquis’s estate, Bai Su found himself in a rare good mood. Ever since his grandfather passed away, he hadn’t experienced such a feeling of lightness in a long time.

Fortunately, the Autumn Banquet had ended late, and Bai Heguang had been fed too much wine by his colleagues and was thoroughly drunk. Otherwise, once he returned to the estate and saw Bai Feizhang’s battered state, followed by Madam Liu whispering venom into his ear, he definitely would have come looking to cause trouble for Bai Su.

Bai Su had never harbored any lingering attachment to power or status. Were it not for his grandfather’s dying wishes, there were times he genuinely wished he could sever ties with this family completely—to go farm in the countryside, or head to the frontier border to be with his comrades-in-arms, doing whatever modest good he could.

He slowly dragged his steps toward his own courtyard. Yet no matter how hard he tried to correct his posture, he still couldn’t fix the uneven slope of his shoulders; his crippled right foot was, in the end, an unavoidable hindrance.

Returning to his room and taking a sip of warm tea, Bai Su savored the rare moment of peace.

He anticipated that by tomorrow, there would certainly be more chaos to endure. But he was long accustomed to it; whatever came his way, he would simply deal with it.

With that in mind, Bai Su bathed, changed his clothes, and lay down comfortably in bed, intending to rest well and recharge his energy. Yet for some reason, the moment he closed his eyes, King Ning’s smiling face flashed across his mind.

Furrowing his brows, he opened his eyes. Reflecting on the massive debt of gratitude he now owed King Ning, Bai Su’s gaze darkened slightly. If the opportunity arose, he would definitely repay this favor.

Making an effort to suppress that secretive flutter of delight in his heart, Bai Su calmed his mind. Only after a good while did he finally drift off into a peaceful sleep. Yet whether his dreams were as serene as his sleeping posture remained anyone’s guess.

The next day, Bai Su rose early at his usual hour. He had a vague feeling he had dreamed of something during the night, but the memory was hazy, so he didn’t take it to heart.

Shaking his head, he washed up with the water prepared by the servants, then drew a saber and began practicing in the courtyard.

Although his right hand and right leg had been left crippled after his recovery, the truth was that he had never admitted defeat. Whenever he had a free moment, he would stay away from prying eyes and rebuild his saber technique with his left hand in his courtyard.

From childhood, Bai Heguang had never liked him. Ever since Old Marquis Bai passed away, the entire household had fallen under Madam Liu’s control. With someone backing them, the mother and son—Madam Liu and Bai Feizhang—had wasted no time baring their hideous fangs.

Bai Su knew full well that his horse-fall back then was definitely no accident. He had just never imagined that despite being so careful, he would still fall into their trap.

Yet even so, he had no intention of submitting to fate.

Retraining his left hand to wield a saber was by no means easy, but fortunately, he had a solid foundation and diligence on his side. Now, even with his left hand, he could wield this heavy saber with fierce, gusting vigor.

The people in his courtyard were all his trusted confidants, left behind for him by Old Marquis Bai. Many of them were veterans retired from the battlefield, boasting considerable martial prowess.

With dedicated men guarding his courtyard like an iron fortress, Bai Su was able to relax considerably.

Hiding his efforts to recover from others was also to keep Madam Liu and Bai Feizhang from growing wary and plotting even harder to harm him—even though he knew their malice had never truly rested.

Truth be told, while Old Marquis Bai had remained loyal to the imperial court his entire life, Bai Su was different. All he cared about were the comrades who fought alongside him on the battlefield and the safety of the common people.

With the imperial court growing increasingly disappointing of late, Bai Su’s desire to withdraw had only deepened. Yet for some unknown reason, seeing King Ning yesterday had rekindled a flicker of his past fervor.

Somewhat annoyed at himself for thinking of Chen Tian every now and then, Bai Su lowered his saber and wiped the sweat from his brow. Seeing that it was about time, he returned to his room, changed his clothes, and prepared to have breakfast.

Halfway through his meal, however, a messenger nanny arrived outside. On Bai Su’s order, she was let inside.

The nanny immediately stepped close to Bai Su and said with a fawning smile, “Heir, the Marquis requests your presence in the main hall.”

Hearing this, Bai Su lifted his eyelids, swept a glance over the woman before him, and recognized her as someone from Madam Liu’s side.

Knowing that this trip would yield nothing good—and that he might even be punished by having to kneel in the ancestral hall—he unhurriedly ate the steamed bun in his hand and took a sip of plain congee, looking completely unbothered.

Seeing this display, Nanny Wang’s eyelids twitched. Thinking to herself that a mere cripple still dared to put on airs, she felt contempt, and a hint of disrespect inevitably leaked onto her face as she spoke up: “Heir, the Marquis is waiting for you in the main hall. Don’t you think you should…”

Before she could finish, the other party cast a breezy glance at her. That single glance alone made the old nanny break into a cold sweat, feeling as though she had just walked along the edge of a blade.

The stench of battlefield slaughter radiating from him in that split second was not something an ordinary person like her could withstand. Set against the long scar on his jaw, it added an innate layer of fierce ruthlessness.

Only then did Nanny Wang recall that this Heir was a true warrior who had licked blood off blades. No matter how fallen he was, he was not someone a lowly servant like her could trample upon.

She hastily lowered her eyes, submissively holding her tongue, only able to fret inwardly in the hope that this young master would hurry up so Madam wouldn’t direct her anger at her.

And so, amidst the anxiety of the people waiting outside, Bai Su ate one more steamed bun, a sesame flatbread, and half a bowl of congee than usual. Only then did he wipe his mouth, tuck the remaining few sesame flatbreads from the table into his robes, and stroll leisurely toward the main hall.

Bai Heguang had never liked his first wife, Lady Li, whom the Old Marquis had chosen for him. Even though Lady Li was educated, reasonable, and had borne him a legitimate son, he found her far too boring, and by extension, grew weary of Bai Su as well.

After Lady Li died, he ignored Bai Su even more, leaving him to the servants to look after. Later, unable to stand by and watch, the Old Marquis took the boy to his own side to raise and teach him.

Over the years, Bai Heguang had been far too mediocre, constantly being compared to Old Marquis Bai by outsiders.

In the past, before Bai Su’s accident, people had even lamented that it was a blessing his legitimate son, Bai Su, possessed both literary and martial brilliance, capable of glorifying the Marquis of Zhongyong’s estate—which only deepened his resentment toward Bai Su.

Bai Heguang only felt that as a father who wasn’t dead yet, how could he allow his son to climb over his head? This Bai Su had clearly been born to jinx him; he had never felt a shred of filial devotion or paternal dignity from the boy—never once reflecting on how he had treated Bai Su since childhood.

Before he even stepped into the hall, Bai Su heard the Marquis’s curses coming from inside, alongside Madam Liu’s hypocritical words that appeared soothing on the surface but were actually pouring oil onto the flames.

A foul atmosphere indeed, Bai Su thought to himself.

Just as he stepped through the door, a teacup shattered right at his feet.

With a face full of fury, Bai Heguang pointed at Bai Su and berated him: “You unfilial wretch! You insolent brat! Kneel down and admit your fault this instant!”

Hearing this, Bai Su showed no ripple of emotion in either his heart or his expression, merely stating calmly, “Your son does not know what fault he has committed.”

It was that lukewarm tone yet again! Recalling how he had lost face before King Ning at yesterday’s Autumn Banquet because of Bai Su, and waking this morning to Madam Liu’s tearful complaints and the sight of his younger son beaten into a pig’s head, Bai Heguang had nearly spat blood from rage.

Madam Liu had embellished the story with all sorts of exaggerations, laying the blame for Bai Feizhang’s injuries squarely on Bai Su. Her words strongly insinuated that King Ning had been incited by Bai Su to vent his wrath on Bai Feizhang, reducing her poor child to such a wretched state.

“You actually dare talk back!”

In a towering rage, Bai Heguang raised his hand to strike Bai Su, only to have his wrist directly intercepted midair by Bai Su.

The young man’s left hand locked around the man’s wrist like an iron vise, pain twisting Bai Heguang’s face to the point where he developed the horrifying illusion that his wrist was about to snap in the next second.

Fortunately, considering they were father and son after all, and unwilling to push matters to an irreparable impasse, Bai Su quickly let go.

Waiting passively for death was never Bai Su’s style, and he would certainly never accept such unreasonable beatings. However, he also knew that even if Bai Heguang couldn’t lay a hand on him, the man would never let it go easily.

Sure enough, shaking his trembling hand and desperately trying to maintain the dignity of a Marquis, Bai Heguang sneered coldly at Bai Su: “Get out of my sight! Go kneel in the ancestral hall! Do not dare get up until you have knelt for three full days! Since the Heir’s prestige is so imposing, I imagine going three days without food and water will pose no problem whatsoever!”

Having spoken, Bai Heguang flicked his sleeves and stormed off with Madam Liu and the others. Before leaving, Bai Feizhang shot him a gloating look, which Bai Su couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge.

Make him, a military commander who charged onto battlefields to slay enemies, engage in inner-manor squabbles? He had zero interest whatsoever.

With that time, why not read military treatises or ponder troop deployments and grain supplies, instead of confining all one’s thoughts to this petty square foot of courtyard intrigue?

He couldn’t understand it, nor did he care to. At the end of the day, the man was his biological father; most of the time, he simply couldn’t be bothered to make a fuss.

Yet weighed down by the virtue of filial piety, even without reason, a single order from the Marquis meant he still had to go to the ancestral hall.

Once inside the ancestral hall, the Marquis’s personal servants naturally stood guard outside.

Knowing that this Heir was actually not someone to be trifled with, they didn’t deliberately make nuisances of themselves by approaching him. They simply shut the heavy doors and paid him no further attention. However, for these three days, not a soul would deliver water or food.

Bai Su was not foolish enough to actually kneel for three whole days.

He devoutly offered incense and kowtowed to the ancestors. After especially meticulously wiping down his grandfather’s spirit tablet, he leaned casually and sat down on the floor.

Patting the few sesame flatbreads in his robes, he knew they would be enough to sustain him for three days. He certainly wouldn’t be full, but it was still infinitely better than gnawing on grass roots when driven half-mad with hunger during mountain ambushes back in his campaigning days.

He just wondered how his brothers at the border fortress were faring. They certainly didn’t get to eat delicate sesame flatbreads like this; having enough coarse black cornbread to fill their bellies was considered fortunate enough. Thinking about it brought a pang of sorrow to his chest.

A while back, he had secretly sent the earnings from the off-the-books shops his grandfather left him to the border. It should be enough for the lads to have a good meal of meat, perhaps even add a padded winter coat. In a few months it would turn cold, and life in the military barracks would only become harder to endure.

Wandering in such random thoughts until noon, Bai Su’s stomach growled again. He pulled out a sesame flatbread and took a bite. It was crisp, fragrant, and lightly savory; the falling sesame seeds and flaky crumbs scattered across the back of his hand.

Accustomed to the rough life of the military barracks and cherishing food as he did, and seeing no one around anyway, Bai Su unthinkingly leaned down to lick the crumbs into his mouth.

Suddenly, with a loud bang, the doors burst open.

Bai Su, frozen in the pose of licking sesame crumbs, looked up—only to see King Ning, eyes blazing with anxious fury, barge straight inside.

The two pairs of eyes locked onto each other, both men freezing on the spot.

__

Author’s Note:

Chen Tian / Bai Su: Nothing is more terrifying than when the air suddenly turns dead silent…