HCAW 23

Chapter 23: Parting Through Tears

In the afternoon, rain-laden clouds loomed, the heavens vast and shadowy.

Faint sunlight filtered through the gloom, casting a pall over the Fang manor’s main hall—fake mountains, pine fruit, and daylily had all lost their color. Servants lay scattered across the ground, and amidst the crowd stood two huawen chairs. The Yu Ji Guard and the Langgan Guard sat across from each other, murderous tension filling the air.

“Didn’t expect even the mighty Yu Ji Guard to grace this little corner of mine. Forgive me for not welcoming you sooner,” the Langgan Guard said coldly.

He kept his eyes fixed on the Yu Ji Guard, though cold sweat was pouring down his back. If it had been only the Mohe Guard who came today, he might still have had a way out. But to his dismay, the Yu Ji Guard had teamed up with that maggot-breeding Mohe dog and descended upon him together. Just now, the Yu Ji Guard had merely pushed a palm through the air and already sent his qi surging into chaos. This man—one of the most fearsome of the Xian Mountain Guards—was terrifyingly powerful, probably didn’t even see him as someone worthy of consideration. Fang Huaixian could feel it in his bones: today did not bode well.

He also understood well just how much the current Emperor hated Emperor Bai, determined to exterminate all remnants of his faction. The Mohe Guard had probably been circling around him for years, maybe even colluding with the Yu Ji Guard, waiting for the perfect opportunity to seize on a mistake, pull him down from his seat among the Xian Mountain Guard, and reap credit from it.

“Haha, what are you saying, brother? If not for His Majesty’s orders, we wouldn’t dare barge into your estate like this. But this matter is too great—we have no choice but to investigate.” The elder stroked his beard and smiled, but his words were razor-sharp. “Tell us, Langgan Guard—where are you hiding Emperor Bai’s orphan?”

“What nonsense is this? First one, then the other, all dumping filth on me! My manor is in good order—where would any orphan be?”

Suddenly, the Yu Ji Guard struck out with a palm!

It came without warning, like thunder shattering the sky. It roared in Fang Huaixian’s ears as it landed squarely on his chest. He’d been too slow to dodge—his injured legs made it impossible—and the blow sent agony tearing through his chest, blood rushing into his mouth. The Yu Ji Guard smiled gently:

“We’re all men with one foot in the grave—why not speak plainly? Among the Xian Mountain Guard, aside from the Tianfu Guard, you were closest to the late Emperor. You practically swapped heads with him. Who else would we suspect? If you won’t confess, then we’ll just have to verify your sons’ blood. Bring the boy forward.”

At his gesture, two Xian Mountain officials dragged Fang Jingyu up by the arms. One drew a short dagger and pricked the tip of the child’s finger, letting the blood drip onto the bone fragment. After some time, the blood still hadn’t seeped in. The Yu Ji Guard sighed:

“Seems this child is not the one.”

Fang Huaixian sneered, spitting bloody phlegm. “Didn’t I tell you? He’s my flesh and blood. You still wouldn’t believe me. What a black pit the court has become!” Even the Mohe Guard emerged from the crowd, scratching his head in disappointment. “What a loss of face…”

The Yu Ji Guard, however, continued, “But doesn’t the Langgan Guard have another son? Where is Fang Minsheng?”

The air in the courtyard instantly turned icy. Everyone fell silent, hearts pounding.

“I’ve heard your household has two sons. The elder, Fang Minsheng, is said to be a prodigy in swordsmanship. The orphan taken away by the Tianfu Guard was of imperial blood—no ordinary child. And you held deep respect for the late Emperor. Surely you wouldn’t treat his son coldly. Bring him out, and let us test his blood.”

Suddenly, like a beast sensing blood, Fang Huaixian lunged at the Yu Ji Guard. But the elder had been ready—a rough, powerful hand gently pressed him back into his chair. He smiled placidly.

“Why the rush, Brother Fang? Sit, sit. It’s only a pinprick on the finger. He’ll be fine in a day.”

Fang Jingyu could see it now—his father had lost control because of his brother. He bit his lip, his face pale as snow. A question twisted in his heart: Could brother truly be Emperor Bai’s orphan? Is that why Father cherishes him so deeply? Because he is the son of the sovereign he once served?

The Yu Ji Guard turned to an official. “Have you found the boy?”

“We’ve searched the entire estate. No sign of him.”

The Yu Ji Guard looked at Fang Huaixian, smiling. “Good. Very good. Langgan Guard—where have you hidden him?”

Fang Huaixian’s face contorted with rage, lips sealed.

“If you won’t speak, I’ll just take someone else’s life in exchange. That child you raised must have a kind heart—he won’t stand by while innocents die. If he doesn’t appear by the end of one incense stick’s time, I’ll start executing your servants.” The Yu Ji Guard’s smile was cold, his eyes gleaming like frost.

The Xian Mountain officials immediately moved, dragging the manor’s servants forward and placing swords at their necks. In an instant, the courtyard erupted in chaos—screams, begging, weeping, all mingling like salt tossed into boiling oil.

Fang Huaixian snorted. “Go ahead and kill! Fang Minsheng is my son. You have no proof, and if you kill for nothing, you’ll only be staining your own names. Let’s see if His Majesty holds you accountable.”

The Yu Ji Guard chuckled. “So killing servants doesn’t touch your heart, does it? Then how about your son?”

He raised a palm toward Fang Jingyu. Fang Huaixian’s expression shifted. The Yu Ji Guard said, “If your elder son doesn’t show himself, I’ll have no choice but to kill this boy in his place.”

He smiled as he spoke, as though a life were no more to him than a blade of grass. Fang Jingyu trembled uncontrollably. He had seen it with his own eyes—just one palm from this old man had sent his father flying, coughing blood. How could a frail child like him possibly survive such a blow?

Fang Huaixian suddenly coughed violently, spraying dark blood onto his knees. That earlier strike had clearly done serious damage. He slumped against the chair like a withered stalk. But now he opened his mouth and said:

“You’re mistaken…”

Both the Yu Ji and Mohe Guards turned to him. Still coughing blood, he forced the words out: “Minsheng isn’t Emperor Bai’s orphan—he’s my own flesh and blood.” He gritted his teeth, hesitating for a long moment, then finally said, “I did hide a child thirteen years ago, on the orders of the Tianfu Guard. I thought it was some burial-bound orphan of theirs. I had no idea it was a dragonborn. We raised him carelessly all these years. There—he’s the one.”

He raised a trembling finger and pointed—at Fang Jingyu.

Fang Jingyu froze, staring in disbelief at his father’s bloodshot eyes—eyes that looked like they belonged to a demon from hell. Fang Huaixian shouted hoarsely, his finger shaking:

“If Emperor Bai had any orphan left—it would be him. Fang Jingyu!”

Father rarely ever spoke his name. That he did so now—only to cast him into the fire—struck like thunder. Could he truly be the son of the late Emperor? But there was no reverence in Father’s eyes—only venom. In that instant, Fang Jingyu understood: he was merely a scapegoat. Father had realized he could not win against the two Guards, and so he had chosen to protect Minsheng by offering him up.

Emperor Bai was now a reviled tyrant of a fallen dynasty. His son would be tortured, destroyed, subjected to every cruelty known to man.

That thought shattered him. He clutched his robes, tears falling one by one. His thin, frail figure stood alone in the sea of black-clad men, like a single reed, swaying in the wind with no one to lean on.

The Yu Ji Guard laughed. “Brother Fang, are you so desperate you’ll start making things up? We already used the bone-drip test on this boy—he doesn’t have the Emperor Bai’s blood. I know you once suffered grievous injuries and couldn’t serve the late Emperor. You slept in the ice coffin for over thirty years and woke with deep regret—but that doesn’t give you the right to commit treason!”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re trying to misdirect us, to draw attention away from Fang Minsheng. Clever move. But it won’t work. Until we test his blood, we won’t rest. Bring him out.”

Fang Huaixian bit his lower lip so hard it bled, yet said nothing.

The Yu Ji Guard sighed, slowly curling his open hand into a fist. “Do you think we’d come here without the Emperor’s blessing? If you keep resisting, it’s no different than defying imperial order. And this second son of yours—scrawny, poorly dressed… You were a loyal minister of the last dynasty, upright and proud. You would never treat Emperor Bai’s heir so shamefully.”

The old man shook his head, raised his fist before Fang Jingyu, and said, “Though this boy isn’t the Emperor Bai’s son, we must still cut the grass and pull up the roots. It’s best I crush him here and now with one punch!”

In that instant, it was as if Fang Jingyu’s heart had been turned inside out. He could feel the killing intent from the Yu Ji Guard cleaving down on him like a giant axe. The man’s blazing eyes pierced into his chest with oppressive force. He was serious now—truly intent on killing.

Fang Jingyu’s legs turned to jelly, as if he were stepping on cotton. He had never seen such terrifying, indifferent eyes. The Yu Ji Guard didn’t even regard him as a person—perhaps the moment his life was taken, he’d be forgotten with a turn of the head.

The elder raised his fist, hawk-like eyes wide. In an instant, veins bulged across his arm, and a crushing pressure surged skyward. He punched toward Fang Jingyu’s crown! The force swept out like a shockwave, knocking the surrounding Xian Mountain officials backward. Fang Jingyu’s mind went blank. His face stung from the wind of that strike.

A single thought stabbed into his mind like an awl: Am I going to die?

Just as that rough, heavy fist was about to crash down, a clear voice suddenly rang out:

“Wait!”

Everyone in the courtyard turned toward the source of the voice. The crowd of officials parted into two lines, and a handsome young man stepped forward, dressed in embroidered brocade with ink bamboo patterns and arrow sleeves. He wore a silk eye mask and was panting lightly, his face pale.

The fist meant to smash into Fang Jingyu’s skull halted.

The Yu Ji Guard slowly raised his eyes to look at the newcomer. His gaze lit up, crawling across the boy’s form like a venomous snake before finally resting on his chiseled, jade-like face. He asked with a smile:

“You are—Fang Minsheng?”

Before the youth could answer, the Langgan Guard roared, “You damn brat! What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to run as far away as you could?”

The boy’s eyes held a restrained sorrow. “I can’t let everyone in this household die because of me.” He raised his head and met the Yu Ji Guard’s gaze, his eyes unwavering. “I’m Fang Minsheng. If you’re here to take me, then so be it. I’m right here. I won’t run—and I won’t be afraid.”

The jade-belted elder let out a low laugh.

He looked Fang Minsheng up and down. “Good, good. You’re a tough little one. Take him—bring out Emperor Bai’s remains and test his blood!”

“No need to trouble you all—I’ll do it myself,” Fang Minsheng said.

He stepped forward, took the short dagger from a Xian Mountain official, and slashed open his palm. Blood dripped steadily onto the bone fragment inside the gold-inlaid box—and soaked right in.

For a moment, the courtyard erupted. The officials began murmuring in disbelief, voices rising like boiling water. The Yu Ji Guard and the Mohe Guard both looked at the bone with deep meaning in their eyes. Fang Huaixian’s face had gone ashen, like his soul had left his body. Yet Fang Minsheng remained calm and still, as if he had long expected this outcome.

“You really are… Emperor Bai’s son!” the Yu Ji Guard chuckled darkly.

He turned and asked the Mohe Guard, “Brother Tao, this bone—was it real? Anyone tamper with it?”

Before the Mohe Guard could reply, Fang Minsheng spoke again. “If you still don’t believe it, there’s another way to prove my identity.”

Unnoticed, he had stepped in front of Fang Jingyu, like a wall blocking the killing intent surging from the Xian Mountain Guards. Fang Jingyu cowered behind him, feeling both grateful and panicked. He could sense that all the blades now pointed at his brother, while he himself was no more than a coward hiding behind him.

Fang Minsheng reached behind his head, untied the strap, and removed his silk eye mask. From behind him, Fang Jingyu saw the Yu Ji Guard and the Mohe Guard both widen their eyes in shock. He guessed they had seen the claw mark hidden beneath his brother’s mask. Though young at the time, Fang Minsheng had once dared to face a tiger with a sword—his courage and spirit matched the bloodline of the late Emperor.

Sure enough, the Yu Ji Guard’s eyes sparkled as he laughed heartily:

“Indeed, indeed! You really are Emperor Bai’s orphan!”

Fang Minsheng said nothing, replacing his eye mask. Fang Jingyu stood behind him, overwhelmed. Suddenly, everything made sense.

Now he understood why Father treated his brother like a treasure, yet cast him aside like refuse. Why, though born on the same day, he and his brother seemed worlds apart. The truth hit him like lightning—he trembled from head to toe. He had studied his own face in the mirror countless times. He didn’t resemble Fang Minsheng at all. That vague suspicion now stood fully revealed: they were brothers—but not by blood.

The black-clad officials surged forward like a tide, reaching for Fang Minsheng’s arms to seize him. But he only shook his head and said he could walk on his own. Just then, a desperate scream pierced the courtyard:

“Don’t go, Fang Minsheng!”

It was the Langgan Guard. He was being pinned to the ground by a group of officials, his eyes bloodshot, his mind broken. Each shout came with a mouthful of blood. “If you go with them, you’re stepping into a den of wolves! You’ll be torn to pieces! What orphan—what nonsense! You’re my son! That bone is fake—fake, do you hear?!”

Several officials were flung aside by his rage, their bones cracked as they hit the ground, howling in pain. The Mohe Guard laughed, “Fake? You think I’d use a pig bone to test your son? If it really worked, he’d be a son of pigs or dogs! But the blood soaked into the bone—that’s all the proof we need. Whether he wants to go or not, he will go!”

The courtyard descended into chaos as the officials tried to drag Fang Minsheng away. The Langgan Guard screamed himself hoarse, but his internal injuries made it impossible to rise. Fang Jingyu stood motionless in the chaos, lost and alone—until Fang Minsheng, escorted by black-clad men, passed in front of him.

Fang Minsheng knelt and hugged him. “Don’t be afraid.”

His brother’s embrace was as warm as ever, carrying the faint scent of camphor and cloves. Fang Jingyu nestled into his arms—and suddenly burst into sobs.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you, Brother?”

He had a dreadful feeling that this would be their final goodbye. The current Emperor hated Bai Emperor deeply—if his brother truly was the Emperor’s son, wouldn’t he be sentenced to death? Fang Jingyu clutched his brother’s sleeve with his thin hand, weeping uncontrollably.

At the same time, he cursed himself over and over. Why am I so weak? If not for him, his brother could’ve escaped. Now, he was walking into death because he came back to protect him. He had ruined everything.

Tears streamed freely down his face. Fang Minsheng gently let go of him, wiped his tears, and spoke softly, like a breeze: “Yes, I’m leaving. You take care of yourself.”

“Will we… will we ever meet again?”

His brother hesitated. A shadow flickered across his brows. But in the end, he embraced Fang Jingyu once more, wordless. Fang Jingyu couldn’t stop crying. His tears soaked his brother’s shoulder.

Fang Minsheng touched his head and gave a bitter smile. “Truthfully, if not for me, your life in this house wouldn’t have been so hard. And besides… we’re not blood. Do you hate me, Jingyu?”

Fang Jingyu shook his head furiously, unable to speak through his sobs. He knew he must look absolutely wretched now, his face covered in tears. Gasping, he choked out, “But you said yourself… sometimes the fake is better than the real. Even a fish-eye can outshine a pearl!”

Fang Minsheng paused, looked down at the fake jade ring on his hand, and smiled faintly. “You’re right. Sometimes… the fake really is better.”

He let go of Fang Jingyu and rose to his feet. Fang Jingyu felt that warmth vanish in an instant. He reached out instinctively—but caught only air.

His brother walked into the crowd. Before vanishing, he turned and gave Fang Jingyu one last smile. In that moment, his whole being lit up again—luminous and graceful, like a clear, round moon. It was a sight Fang Jingyu would remember for the rest of his life.

Then the black sea swallowed Fang Minsheng. The officials swarmed him, seized his arms, and shoved him forward. Holly leaves were crushed beneath their boots, ground into dirt. The sky darkened. The clouds brimmed with impending storm. Amid the noise and shouting, the Langgan Guard’s wails were the most haunting—like a wounded beast howling in despair.

Fang Jingyu was knocked to the ground, watching helplessly as his brother’s figure disappeared into the crowd. Darkness fell before his eyes. It was as if the sun had set forever—and his world had lost all its light.

A voice drifted into his ears, light as smoke—the last words his brother left behind:

“See you in the next life, Jingyu.”