Chapter 68

A few days ago, Duke Liu heard that Tang Yun, who had been demoted to a remote area to serve as a county magistrate, had achieved some minor accomplishments and recently returned to the capital. Thinking that it happened to be close to An’an’s first birthday banquet, he had been on guard ever since.

The guards at the gate had been strictly checking invitations, ensuring that no one could enter without verification.

Tang Yun got annoyed after being stopped several times and shouted sharply, “I’m his biological father! Today is his first birthday—who gave you the guts to block me here?”

He had just returned to the capital and, after calculating the dates, realized that the child should be turning one, so he prepared a gift and came to the door, only to be stopped.

Tang Yun wanted to go inside and ask Duke Liu what exactly he had done to deserve such treatment—why he had been deliberately exiled to that godforsaken place. It had taken everything he had to make his way back. The journey had been long and exhausting, and his son had fallen ill from acclimatization and had been sick for two months.

The guards exchanged glances, no longer as firm in their stance as before, fearing that if the Duke or Miss Liu learned of this, they would be blamed. Sensing this shift, Tang Yun pushed past them, intending to enter.

But just as he was about to cross the threshold of the Duke’s manor, a young general dressed in red came out from inside. Huo Siwei raised his foot and kicked him straight back.

Tang Yun fell to the ground, pain shooting from his elbow as cold sweat broke out on his forehead and his face instantly turned pale.

“This general has every right to stop you. Don’t ruin a perfectly joyful day with your disgusting presence.”

“Someone, throw him out for me!”

Huo Siwei’s attendant bowed slightly in acknowledgment. Tang Yun, eyes bloodshot, struggled while shouting, “You’re the man Liu Nüluo married the second time? Just a pair of worn-out shoes—why would you want them?”

The moment those words left his mouth, Huo Siwei’s eyes turned icy. He strode forward and slapped him across the face several times, both cheeks swelling symmetrically.

Grabbing Tang Yun by the collar, Huo sneered coldly under Tang Yun’s defiant glare and said:

“When a pearl falls into a broken box, it naturally gathers dust. The pearl is not at fault—it’s the worthless box that’s to blame for not knowing its value.”

“I’ve changed my mind. Drag him into the alley and give him a good beating—just don’t beat him to death.”

“Yes, sir.”

Before ever setting foot on the battlefield, Young General Huo had already been notorious as a scoundrel throughout the capital. The line of people filing complaints outside the Huo residence used to stretch around the block.

Now, despite returning to the capital with honors and praise from the emperor for his newfound steadiness, the truth was—when things happened, he was still the same as ever.

If you defy him, he’ll hit you. If you can’t beat him, you better shut up.

“I’m a government official! Assaulting an official—I’ll report you to the emperor!”

“Oh? Do you have evidence? No physical evidence? Then how about witnesses?”

The guards and servants at the door all turned their backs, pretending they had seen nothing.

Facing Huo Siwei’s half-smile, Tang Yun’s heart finally filled with fear.

He used to bully others by riding on the Duke’s coattails. Now that he was the one being bullied, he finally understood what it meant to be crushed under real power.

With each blow, he even had a fleeting illusion that he might die here.

“You think you’ll even get to see the emperor? Even if you did, so what? His Majesty just awarded me an immunity token not long ago.”

That token wasn’t for minor things like this—it was just Huo’s way of telling Tang Yun: I have every reason and right to deal with you.

After saying this, Huo Siwei folded his hands behind his back and walked into the manor. Standing under the veranda, he happened to spot little An’an, dressed in red like a glutinous rice ball, chasing after Liu Sisi.

He ran while calling out for a hug, his little legs moving fast.

“Duoduo, wait for me~”

Just earlier, while eating a pastry, An’an had accidentally smeared flour all over one side of his face. Still, he insisted on clinging to his cousin’s leg for a hug. Liu Sisi ran from him in a panic, thinking the boy was playing a game.

Liu Sisi’s mother watched her usually composed and well-mannered son darting around like this with amusement in her eyes. She even stopped Liu Nüluo, who was about to intervene, and said softly:

“Leave them be—it’s cute.”

Liu Nüluo smiled helplessly at her sister-in-law’s attitude. She had initially worried that her son’s behavior might annoy her, but seeing how entertained she was, it seemed she might even be tempted to join in.

Huo Siwei leaned back with his arms folded, watching the scene unfold for a long while.

Liu Nüluo caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. Their gazes met. Though Huo Siwei remained calm even in the face of a thousand troops, Liu Nüluo’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, pretending to be looking elsewhere.

The gift Liu Sisi prepared for his little cousin was that calligraphy brush. He’d visited many shops before picking the right one, hoping An’an could use it when he was older.

Whether An’an liked it or not, Duke Liu certainly did—it hit him right in the heart.

Any student of his, talent or not, had to master calligraphy.

A man’s handwriting reflects his character. Duke Liu always believed that if you couldn’t even write properly, then no amount of scholarly talent mattered. You wouldn’t even pass the scholar’s exam!

Children around this age were the most fun to be around—just a little teasing and they’d be adorable. Duke Liu couldn’t bear to part with him and brought him along everywhere after the birthday banquet.

Before he could talk, An’an would babble endlessly. Now that he could speak, albeit unclearly, his little mouth never stopped. If his grandpa couldn’t understand him, the boy would get anxious.

Duke Liu had to keep his ears perked all day long, afraid of missing a single word.

Eventually, the incident at the gate during An’an’s birthday still reached Liu Nüluo’s ears. It had already been more than a year. Her feelings for Tang Yun were long gone, yet hearing him speak of her in that tone still brought some sadness.

She had never imagined that someone who had once been so close would one day trample her into the mud like she was worth nothing.

She also remembered the words Huo Siwei had spoken in her defense. Back then, she had been young and naïve, thinking he was just a close friend. Now, looking back, she realized she’d missed a lot.

No matter when or where, the look in Huo Siwei’s eyes when he gazed at her was never innocent.

Apart from that faint sigh, Liu Nüluo didn’t think much more of it. She didn’t want to be entangled with Huo Siwei. Her current life was already the best she could ask for.

She didn’t dare to hope for more, nor did she want to burden anyone else.

…

That day was sunny and not too hot. Liu Sisi returned from the academy and saw An’an lying listlessly on the stone table, clearly bored. Remembering that his grandfather had been discussing something with guests earlier, a bold idea suddenly came to him.

“An’an, want to go out and play?”

The droopy little boy instantly perked up, his eyes sparkling as he nodded eagerly.

“Yes!”

Lately, Grandpa hadn’t been willing to take him out, saying he had things to handle. And with several of his old students back in the capital, the attention once showered on An’an had suddenly dwindled.

Liu Sisi had this idea precisely because he knew about that incident. Holding little An’an’s hand, he lowered his voice to the point where even the attending servants couldn’t hear and asked:

“How about I take you out to play?”

As soon as those words left his mouth, the adoration in An’an’s eyes practically overflowed. He just knew his cousin was way more reliable than Grandpa!

“Okay~”

“But I don’t have much silver on me, so I might not be able to buy you everything you want.”

His mother usually gave him some silver, but before coming back home, he had lent it all to a fellow scholar he knew—someone from a poor family whose mother was now bedridden.

His mother wasn’t stingy with him, but she absolutely didn’t allow extravagance.

“Silver?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You need silver to buy what you want, understand?”

Liu Sisi patiently explained while holding his chubby little cousin’s hand. An’an nodded, somewhat understanding, then hopped down from the stone stool on his own.

“An’an has some. Cousin, come with me.”

Such a little kid—how much silver could he possibly have?

Liu Sisi didn’t take his words seriously at all, even considering whether he should try borrowing from a classmate.

Best not to ask his mother. If she or his aunt found out he was taking An’an out, the whole plan would be ruined. It had to be done quietly.

Despite not having much hope, Liu Sisi still followed along.

An’an skillfully opened a small box and took out a pouch shaped like a little tiger, then generously handed it to Liu Sisi.

Liu Sisi opened it and found a silver ingot worth fifty taels inside. The pouch that had felt so light instantly became heavy.

He never expected that he’d have less silver than his little cousin.

“Let’s go, go play~”

Little An’an tugged at his cousin’s sleeve, pulling him outside. In his heart, he gave himself a big thumbs-up—he knew tagging along with his cousin meant fun and delicious food.

Way better than staying with Grandpa and reading all day.

“Don’t make a sound.”

Liu Sisi warned in a whisper. An’an immediately covered his mouth with both hands, blinking his big eyes as he nodded earnestly.

“I’m taking An’an to my courtyard to play for a bit. When Grandfather returns, let him know. You don’t need to follow us.”

“Yes, young master.”

Successfully getting An’an out of Grandfather’s courtyard, they slipped out of the Duke’s residence through the back door.

Though still young, Liu Sisi was already quite tall and often played with An’an in his arms. Carrying him now didn’t feel tiring at all.

When they reached the bustling street, An’an wriggled to get down and proactively slipped his hand into his cousin’s, wanting to walk while being led.

Everything on the street was new and fascinating to An’an—from the delicate and adorable sugar figurines to all the little trinkets. Even freshly steamed buns made him want to rush over and take a bite when he smelled their aroma.

Liu Sisi had only been taken out to play once before by his cousin from his aunt’s side. The thrill and excitement of that outing still stayed with him. Seeing the longing in An’an’s eyes, he couldn’t bear to let him miss out.

An’an was truly delighted, especially when he finally got a big bun in hand—he smiled so wide his cheeks started to ache.

The bun was as big as half his face. After taking a bite, he burned his mouth and winced in pain. Liu Sisi couldn’t help but smile, crouching down to fix his cousin’s hair.

Liu Sisi knew it wasn’t wise to stay out too long, so after a round of fun, he brought An’an home. It also wasn’t safe to be out too late.

On the way back, as they passed a small alley, a grown man suddenly jumped out, trying to snatch An’an from his arms.

Startled, An’an dropped the half-eaten bun. A nearby stray dog, smelling the scent, rushed over and snatched it up. An’an stared at the scene in a daze before bursting into tears.

The sound of his cousin crying made Liu Sisi tense up even more. Then he saw the man’s face clearly—it was An’an’s biological father.

The man had visited a few times before and never left a good impression. And after what just happened, there was no way Liu Sisi would let him take An’an.

He raised his foot and kicked Tang Yun away, then backed off with An’an in his arms, landing a solid punch on the man.

Without the bun to hold, An’an’s little hands flailed helplessly. Then he spotted a familiar man on the street and immediately ran toward him crying.

“Waaaah! Susu! Susu, someone hit my Duoduo!”

Walking down the street, Huo Siwei suddenly heard a very familiar voice. As someone who practiced martial arts, his senses were sharper than average. He instinctively turned toward the sound—and sure enough, it was little An’an.

“Who hit your cousin?”

He picked An’an up and tried to wipe his tears, but An’an urgently pushed his hand away and pointed to the alley.

Without needing orders, Huo Siwei’s bodyguards rushed in immediately.

Two battle-hardened guards were not someone Tang Yun could contend with. They quickly subdued him, preventing any escape.

Liu Sisi quickly thanked them before hurrying off to find An’an, panicking in case he had lost his cousin.

After just a few steps, he saw Huo Siwei carrying An’an over. An’an still had tear tracks on his face and cried again upon seeing his cousin.

“Duoduo, sob… Duoduo…”

“It’s okay.”

Liu Sisi’s clothes were a bit disheveled, but even though he was a scholar, he had learned some self-defense growing up under his grandfather’s guidance. Taking on someone like Tang Yun wasn’t a problem. If not for the difference in physical size, he wouldn’t have been at any disadvantage.

“Don’t let him speak. Lock him in the dungeon first.”

At Huo Siwei’s command, one of the guards knocked Tang Yun out with a blow before he could react.

After something like this, there was no way they’d be sent back alone. Huo Siwei personally offered to escort them.

Liu Sisi understood—even if he would be scolded for what happened, their safety came first. He bowed and thanked Huo Siwei sincerely.

An’an had been frightened badly. He sobbed quietly the entire way back, and when he saw his mother and grandfather at the Duke’s residence, his crying became even more intense.

Knowing he had made a mistake, Liu Sisi knelt upon entering. An’an, crying fiercely, caught a glimpse of his cousin and immediately tried to defend him.

“It—it was An’an who wanted to go play, not Duoduo’s fault.”

Duke Liu was already pained seeing him like this, and now with An’an’s defense, even if Liu Sisi asked for the stars in the sky, he would have agreed.

“Sisi, stand up first. You’re not to blame for this.”

No one expected Tang Yun to be so shameless as to try and snatch a child in broad daylight.

“Yes, sir.”

Perhaps from crying too hard, An’an developed a high fever that night. Liu Nüluo had a nanny call for a physician. After the medicine was brewed, it was so bitter An’an couldn’t swallow even a sip.

By the middle of the night, his fever worsened and he began muttering nonsense.

He couldn’t tell if he was in this life or the last. In his delirium, he even wondered if this life had been a dream born from his past, when he had lived in that abandoned back courtyard.

His sobbing calls for his mother tore at Liu Nüluo’s heart.

“Mother, I want to kill them. I want to kill them all.”

This sentence startled Liu Nüluo. She instinctively tightened her grip on An’an’s small hand, and the Nanny, understanding the situation, quickly sent out the few maidservants serving in the room.

The words weren’t entirely clear, but Liu Nüluo could grasp the meaning behind them. And precisely because of that, she became even more alarmed.

She had never imagined that such a young child could harbor such deep resentment—so much so that even in his dreams, he was talking about killing “them.”

What worried her more was: who exactly were these “them” he spoke of?

“An’an, don’t be sad. Mama’s here, Mama’s right here.”

Under Liu Nüluo’s gentle comforting, An’an’s expression gradually relaxed, and they were finally able to feed him the medicine.

“Mama… Mama…”

Awakened by the bitterness of the medicine, An’an opened his eyes and, seeing Liu Nüluo sitting by the bed, burst into tears again. Clutching her hand tightly, he kept repeating those two words.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“An’an, don’t be like this. Tell Mama what happened, okay?”

His little face was flushed red from the fever, and he kept staring at his mother. Liu Nüluo couldn’t hold back her own tears.

It was already deep into the night, but she felt no trace of sleepiness—only an overwhelming worry that this little one might have suffered some unbearable grievance somewhere out of her sight.

“Mama, I’m scared… don’t go, please don’t go…”

Liu Nüluo held An’an tightly in her arms. The Nanny brought over a light blanket to cover him and quietly withdrew, knowing the mother and son had things to say.

“Okay, Mama won’t go. I’ll stay right here with An’an.”

“Mama… I’m so glad you’re here.”

An’an answered softly. He could no longer distinguish between dream and reality, or between his past and present life.

Everything felt muddled, as though he were dying again—just like those last days of his previous life.

Warmth spread through his body, like basking in sunlight on a cold winter day.

The system, watching An’an’s expression as if he were about to be released from his suffering, wanted badly to cross over and give him a hard knock on the head. That warmth he was feeling? It had spent its own points to redeem a half-hour “golden finger” for him.

At this age, An’an couldn’t speak clearly. Even if he formed coherent thoughts, he couldn’t express them fluently. So the system gave him a small nudge.

This truth… would have to be revealed to Liu Nüluo eventually.

“Mama, I didn’t kill you. I didn’t.”

“No, of course not. How could you have killed me?”

“Daddy… and big brother… they said it was me. They called me a jinx, said I brought misfortune to my family, said I deserved to die.”

Sniffling, An’an choked out these cruel insults—words that made Liu Nüluo’s mind go completely blank.

She didn’t fully understand what he meant, but she had a vague, ominous guess. And precisely because of that, she became even more uneasy.

“Mama, I didn’t… I’m scared… don’t leave me. I’m not useless. I’m not!”

An’an raised his little hands, trying to cover his head. The intense emotional stress made them tremble slightly. Liu Nüluo held him tightly and whispered over and over in his ear:

“You are not a jinx. You don’t bring misfortune, you don’t deserve to die, and you are not useless. You are Mama’s precious treasure—irreplaceable.”

Liu Nüluo was always clever. Based on what An’an had said, she could more or less piece together the truth. After calming An’an down, she lowered her voice and asked:

“You… did you live a whole other life before this one?”

Facing his trusted mother, An’an didn’t hide anything and gently nodded.

“Mm.”

After hearing that answer, Liu Nüluo looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Meanwhile, An’an, nestled in the safety of her arms, slowly drifted off to sleep.

Liu Nüluo sat there, frozen, for about half an hour. It wasn’t until the Nanny peeked in to check on them, pushing the door open slightly, that she finally came back to herself.

According to what An’an said, in his previous life, she had died during childbirth, leaving him to be raised by Tang Yun.

With Tang Yun in charge of the Tang family, Tang Jun became his adopted son—the “big brother” An’an had mentioned.

An’an grew up with the label of a cursed child, ridiculed and rejected by his father and brother.

And the most galling part was—they claimed to be doing it all in her name, as if they were avenging her.

No wonder An’an had been so repulsed by Tang Yun and Tang Jun. No wonder he cried whenever Tang Yun held him.

The Nanny laid An’an back on the bed and, seeing Liu Nüluo still sitting there, gently reminded her:

“Miss, the sky is about to brighten. You should get some rest too.”

Liu Nüluo hadn’t slept a wink all night, and yet she wasn’t tired in the slightest. She rested her elbows on the low table beside the couch, pressing her forehead to her palm, gazing at the gradually lightening sky with a mind full of thoughts.

If it were true that she had died during childbirth…

Her already-ailing mother would never survive such a blow. The love between her parents spanned many years—her father’s health would surely deteriorate too.

Even her elder sister in the palace would likely be affected.

If this were the beginning, perhaps Liu Nüluo could’ve convinced herself that Tang Yun only acted that way out of love for her, and that was why he took it out on An’an.

But now, she saw through Tang Yun completely. Reality had shown her how quickly hearts can change.

He didn’t love her. He only loved power and status. Everything else could be sacrificed at their altar.

He treated her well only because she was the daughter of a noble house, gentle and considerate, always putting him first, and came with a generous dowry that could support his household.

Even before her pregnancy, she had treated Tang Jun quite well, even considering adopting him a few times.

The claim that he loved her was a lie. Liu Nüluo now firmly believed that Tang Yun had done all of this for the sake of his adopted son, deliberately suppressing An’an.

He painted An’an as a dull, unteachable child, so that the favors given by her family would naturally fall to Tang Jun instead.

And every time she thought about how the child she had borne with such pain—almost at the cost of her life—was treated like that by Tang Yun, Liu Nüluo couldn’t suppress her fury.

Putting herself in that scenario, if it had truly happened…

She would hate Tang Yun, who told her not to get pregnant, yet waited until after the three-month mark to urge her to abort the child, full of false affection.

Now she saw it clearly—if he truly didn’t want the child, he could’ve spoken up before the three-month mark.

Instead, he used the excuse of not wanting to upset her, waited until the three-month line passed, when the doctor warned of risks in terminating the pregnancy.

Furthermore, he had the final say in most household matters at the time. If he had kept drinking contraceptive decoctions, none of this would’ve happened.

She also harbored resentment toward Tang Jun, who kept pestering her, saying he wanted a little sister so he wouldn’t feel lonely.

But the one person she could never blame was An’an—the treasure she had willingly brought into this world, enduring endless suffering to give birth to.

He understood nothing, yet from birth carried the label of having killed his mother.

It wasn’t just Tang Yun and Tang Jun who had gone too far. Liu Nüluo now realized even she herself had been somewhat selfish in insisting on marrying into the Tang family.

Feeling weary at last, Liu Nüluo leaned back and closed her eyes, memories of her days in the Tang household flooding her mind.

She recalled how Tang Yun once casually mentioned late at night that if she gave birth to a daughter, perhaps they could raise her to be Tang Jun’s future wife.

At the time, Liu Nüluo had only found her husband’s words amusing, treating it as nothing more than a joke.

But when this thought resurfaced now, Liu Nüluo’s eyes snapped open, and a deep chill spread through her heart.

So from the very beginning, Tang Yun had rejected her proposal to adopt a child simply because he wanted a daughter of his own. Later, after An’an was born, he brought up the matter again, treating becoming their adopted child as the worst-case scenario.

From the moment she got pregnant, she had already fallen into Tang Yun’s schemes—even the child she hadn’t yet given birth to had been calculated into his plans. It was utterly disgusting.

A wave of nausea swept over Liu Nüluo. Just then, the Nanny instructed the maid to prepare breakfast and came to invite her over. As she stepped outside, the cold wind brushed her face, clearing her mind further.

In that moment, she felt immensely grateful that her father had once taught her to read and write. With her knowledge, insight, and courage, she had been able to decisively remove herself from that environment rather than letting Tang Yun squeeze out every last bit of her value.

During breakfast, the Nanny mentioned that Huo Siwei had come. It was he who had brought Liu Sisi and An’an back the day before. Everything had been too rushed then, and Liu Nüluo hadn’t had a chance to thank him. His visit now was well-timed.

The moment Huo Siwei saw Liu Nüluo’s red-rimmed eyes, he guessed she hadn’t slept all night. He took out a small medicine bottle and handed it to her.

“This morning I specifically asked His Majesty for this medicine. How’s An’an doing now?”

“Much better. Thank you for your concern. About what happened yesterday—I didn’t get the chance to thank you yet.”

If it hadn’t been for his help, if An’an had been taken away by Tang Yun… Liu Nüluo didn’t even dare to imagine the consequences.

“Between you and me, don’t you think saying thank you feels a bit too distant?”

Ever since Huo Siwei returned to the capital, countless matchmakers had come knocking at his door, but he had told his mother early on that he already had someone he admired.

He had even confessed that he’d been injured on the battlefield and would never be able to have children in this lifetime. His mother had never brought up marriage again, rejecting every candidate that came their way.

“Those things from the past are long gone. I’ve already gone through one divorce…”

Liu Nüluo understood what he meant, but she didn’t want the entire Duke’s household to become gossip fodder again because of her. She could only make up an excuse.

“I’m unmarried, You are not remarried. What’s the problem?”

Huo Siwei had already missed his chance once—he didn’t want to miss it again. So he laid it out plainly.

The one thing he regretted most in life was not confessing his feelings to Liu Nüluo before heading to the frontier. He had feared dying there and never told her how he felt while she was still too naïve to understand.

“I’m used to living in my own home. I don’t want to move again.”

“I can marry into your family.”

With that single sentence, Liu Nüluo was left speechless. Before she could even react, Huo Siwei cupped his hands and gave a respectful bow.

“I’ll go talk to my mother. Wait for me.”

Not until he disappeared from her sight did Liu Nüluo finally come back to her senses. She stared at the medicine bottle in her palm for a long while before deciding to give it to An’an.

Her father had once mentioned this medicine—it was stored in the palace treasury and highly treasured.

She only had a couple of bites of breakfast and didn’t feel like eating anymore. After feeding An’an and seeing his little face still twisted in discomfort, she remained by his side.

When Duke Liu came to check on An’an and saw Liu Nüluo still there, he asked the maid and then had the Nanny take her back to get some rest.

“The imperial physician will come soon. Don’t worry too much. Get some sleep—I’ll stay here.”

“Alright.”

This time, Liu Nüluo didn’t refuse. As soon as she lay down, she fell fast asleep. She was truly exhausted—sorting through all her thoughts had taken a toll on her.

Seeing her sleeping so soundly, the Nanny didn’t have the heart to wake her and bring up what had just happened.

After taking the medicine, the imperial physician came in the morning to check An’an’s pulse and confirmed there was nothing serious—he just needed rest to recover.

An’an slept until the afternoon. When he opened his eyes and saw his grandfather, he couldn’t help but cry out that he was hungry, pouting pitifully. Duke Liu hurriedly called the maid to bring over the lean meat porridge.

“He hasn’t eaten for several meals now—it’d be strange if he wasn’t hungry.”

An’an ate in big spoonfuls. Seeing this, Duke Liu finally let out a breath of relief. If he could eat, it meant he was getting better.

“Grandpa~”

“Yes, Grandpa’s right here.”

Duke Liu gently tidied up An’an’s messy hair. He had only sent Tang Yun to a slightly more remote post to suffer a little, never expecting that he would still dare to cross the line.

Looking at An’an lying pale on the bed, gulping down porridge, a flash of cold light passed through Duke Liu’s eyes.

“Grandpa, hug.”

After finishing his porridge, An’an stretched his arms toward Duke Liu. He was still scared of being alone—even curled up under a warm blanket, the image of huddling in a cold, dilapidated courtyard with a frozen Nanny in a past life haunted him, and no warmth could reach him.

“Alright, I’ll hold you.”

Duke Liu scooped him up. At this moment, even if An’an asked for the stars in the sky, he would find a way to fetch them for his little grandson.

After taking the medicine, An’an drifted off to sleep again. In the evening, Liu Nüluo woke up. As soon as she got up, she heard the Nanny say her father was looking for her. She quickly freshened up and hurried over.

Duke Liu was seated on a cushioned bench, his hand resting on the lid of a teacup. Once his daughter sat down before him, he finally spoke.

“That matter… how do you plan to handle it?”

His approach might be considered cruel, so he felt he should at least ask Liu Nüluo for her thoughts first.

At that moment, a maid brought over a cup of tea and set it down in front of Liu Nüluo before giving a bow and quietly leaving, closing the door behind her.

Liu Nüluo didn’t touch the tea. She looked up to meet her father’s gaze and said softly:

“I want Tang Yun to live a life worse than death.”