The lamplight in the guest room flickered, carving deep lines of age at the corners of Han Yunkun's eyes. He glanced at Luo Yan, his voice dropping into something heavier.
"There's one more thing," he said. "About your mother… about Lady Tie. You have the right to know everything."
A jolt ran through Luo Yan's chest. He slowly straightened, eyes fixed on him.
Han Yunkun spoke carefully, each word striking like iron on stone. "That year, you were three. The General received an imperial order to campaign. Border forces were stirring, and I left this continent with him to lead the army. But while we were gone… the former Marquis, Lin Qingyuan… had already harbored vile intentions toward your mother."
Lin Yaochen had been about to yawn, but at that line he sat up at once.
"He had coveted Luo Junyan's beauty for a long time. He'd even babbled drunken nonsense at banquets, saying things like, 'Such a heavenly face, wasted on the son of a cloth merchant.' He'd always been bitter. And because he was of the imperial blood, he never felt shame. He believed the world existed to fear him."
Han Yunkun gritted his teeth, anger flaring in his eyes. "The moment we left, he moved. He arranged for the General's residence to be set ablaze, and had his men abduct the Madam. He even staged it to look like enemy remnants had slipped in, just to cover his tracks. Worse… he wanted the General to believe it was simply the chaos of war. He wanted him ruined. Broken. Unable to live with it."
Luo Yan's fists clenched, his voice shaking. "Then… then my mother…"
"After she was taken, she was treated like a toy. A life worse than death." Han Yunkun's head dipped. "After being violated, she was fed false news, made to believe you had died in the fire. She lost you… and believed she had lost all dignity besides. In the end… she chose to take her own life, carrying despair and humiliation to her grave."
His throat tightened. "When the General returned, all he saw was ash. A home reduced to ruins. Nothing could be undone."
Luo Yan went rigid, as if lightning had split him open. His voice was dry, almost voiceless. "Why… why was this never said?"
"Because if this ever became public, it would be deemed treason against the throne." Han Yunkun's voice lowered, crushed under restraint. "Lin Qingyuan used his imperial blood as a shield. He suppressed every trace of it, even silencing witnesses in secret. Back then, we couldn't find proof solid enough. The General could only endure… until one year, when he finally obtained evidence and living testimony."
"And then he engineered the former Marquis's death in an 'accident.'" Luo Yan's tone turned hard.
"Yes." Han Yunkun met his eyes. "Not for power. For vengeance. He didn't seize the position. The seat became vacant on its own. Court officials couldn't unite behind anyone, and in the end, the imperial collateral line pushed him forward. Even so, he has been constrained by the imperial clan ever since."
Silence flooded the room.
Lin Yaochen broke it first. "So he never said anything because he'd be branded a regicide?"
"And because he feared," Han Yunkun sighed, "that when you grew up, you'd look at him with the same eyes."
Luo Yan lowered his head. The longevity lock pressed to his chest. The carved "Luo" burned like a brand. A thousand emotions tore at him, yet not a single sentence made it past his lips.
Han Yunkun looked at him earnestly. "I came to you in private because I don't want father and son to finally reunite… only to fracture beyond repair because of this."
"I'm a husband. A father." His voice softened, weighted with empathy. "I understand what he did. I know his pain. Some burdens he's carried alone for years, never speaking of them. But I can tell you this, Luo Yan: those wounds never truly healed."
Luo Yan still did not answer. His fingers curled tight.
Han Yunkun exhaled slowly. "Your mother… and you… were the most precious things in his life. He didn't sit on that throne for power. He sat there to survive. To one day have the strength to demand justice for her with his own hands."
He paused, gaze steady. "I'm not here to plead for him, and I'm not asking you to forgive him now. I only want you to know… he has never forgotten you. Not once."
His eyes clouded with something complicated. "Your father was never a man chasing glory. He never wanted that seat. His first and greatest wish was simply to live a plain, safe life with your mother and you. The three of you… together. Peacefully. That was all."
His voice tightened, as if he had to force the words through. "But fate wouldn't spare him. Your mother died in agony. You vanished. He carried that position because vengeance demanded it. Do you know what he often says now?"
Han Yunkun gave a faint smile that tasted of bitterness. "He says the chair is scorching. But the longer you sit in it… the colder your heart becomes."
His gaze fell to the longevity lock peeking from Luo Yan's collar. His voice dropped so low it nearly vanished into the night.
"The only thing left in this world that can keep even a sliver of warmth in him… is you, Luo Yan. Or perhaps I should call you Tie Yuluo. You are his last obsession."
Late at night, wind slipped through the window seams, the air heavy as if layered with lead. When the conversation ended, Luo Yan couldn't bear the suffocation of the room. He stepped out and wandered without direction.
Under the corridor eaves stood Ge Zhiyao. She wore plain clothes beneath a cloak, watching the courtyard lanterns sway. Luo Yan's footsteps approached from behind. She didn't turn, but she already knew it was him.
"Why aren't you asleep?" Luo Yan hadn't expected to run into her. His tone was calm, but it carried too much beneath it.
"Couldn't sleep," Zhiyao answered.
Three simple words, yet they pressed down on everything neither of them dared to say.
"Ah-Chen told me," she added quietly. "About you."
Luo Yan stepped closer, standing beside her, staring at the light as well.
"Do you… blame me?"
Zhiyao didn't answer at first. After a moment, she spoke. "I don't blame you. I truly don't. None of this was yours to decide."
He turned to her, his throat moving, his voice rough with guilt and bitterness.
"But the one who shattered your family, who had you hunted, who nearly got you killed more than once… is my father. And I'm his only son."
Zhiyao finally turned to look at him. There was pain in her eyes, and something deeper she kept pressed down.
"Luo Yan. You're not him. You're you. Back when we were running, you were there. We fought side by side, didn't we?"
"But my surname is Tie…" He gave a quiet, self-mocking laugh. "Sometimes I want to ask the heavens why I had to be his son."
Zhiyao bit her lip, looking away. "If you weren't his son, we'd still be trapped in Golden Yao Valley… or rotting in a prison, with no chance of ever walking out."
Silence stretched between them. Only the wind brushed the corridor pillars.
Luo Yan spoke again, voice low.
"I want to acknowledge him, because he's my only blood relative… and the only person who still remembers my name. But every time I remember he was the one who ordered your family's arrest… I can't convince myself. How am I supposed to accept him?"
Zhiyao's heart jerked. Her voice softened.
"And I can't convince myself… how to accept you."
Luo Yan froze, turning toward her.
Zhiyao's expression twisted with conflict, her voice trembling.
"You're someone I trust. Someone who walked through life and death with me. But when I think about… the shadow behind you, I can't take one step further. It's not that you're not good. I'm afraid that if we get too close, I won't be able to face my father… not without shame."
Light glimmered in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let it fall.
They stood shoulder to shoulder in silence, feelings alive in both hearts, yet stranded in the narrow seam between past and present, unable to advance, unable to retreat.
The lantern flame wavered like a living thing, casting two shadows that leaned toward each other… yet never reached.
Then, from somewhere, Lin Yaochen popped out like a ghost who didn't believe in bedtime.
"You two," he said, "standing out here in the middle of the night, letting the wind freeze your brains off. What is this?"
The two of them exchanged a glance. Neither spoke.
Lin Yaochen sauntered closer, patting Luo Yan's shoulder. "Seriously, with your 'pursuing a girl' speed, even if the heavens added ten extra chapters, you still wouldn't get her."
Both of them stared at him, baffled. What play? What extra chapters? What was he even talking about?
"You're both way too stubborn," Lin Yaochen continued, waving a hand as if swatting away their worries. "Let the adults fight their adult wars. You two? Train when there's training, flirt when there's nothing else. Perfectly balanced. Like… cultivation and romance."
Then, without warning, he grabbed Luo Yan's hand, so blunt it was almost violent.
"I'm asking you straight: do you like A-Yao?"
Luo Yan jolted, ears turning red in an instant. "I-I…" He stammered, voice small as a mosquito. "…I do."
Zhiyao stood frozen, heat rising to her face, her heartbeat skipping all on its own.
"And you?" Lin Yaochen turned on her like a judge in a ridiculous court. "A-Yao, do you like him?"
Zhiyao's cheeks flushed even deeper. She bit her lower lip, said nothing… but nodded, just once.
Lin Yaochen clapped his hands. "See? That's it!"
He happily placed Luo Yan's hand into Zhiyao's. "There. If you like each other, say it! Love is time-sensitive. Leave it too long, and regret comes with interest."
A familiar voice drifted in, amused and dry. "Kid, since when did you change careers and become a matchmaker?"
Mozi appeared silently at Lin Yaochen's side.
Lin Yaochen grinned and started shooing him away like a mischievous child herding an annoyed elder.
"What are you doing here? It's late. Elders should sleep early and wake early. Go, go, go. Back to bed. Stop interrupting the couple's romance."
He waved back at Luo Yan and Zhiyao. "Good night!"
And just like that, the corridor was left with only the two of them, facing each other in sudden quiet.
Only then did Luo Yan realize he was still holding her hand. The tips of his ears reddened further.
"We… should go rest," he muttered.
"What?" Zhiyao blinked up at him.
Luo Yan immediately realized how it sounded. Panic flashed across his face.
"N-no, I mean… I go to my room. Not 'we'… I didn't mean—"
Zhiyao's composure cracked. A laugh slipped out of her, light and involuntary.
Under the moonlight, her face seemed softly gilded. Luo Yan stared, heartbeat tripping faster, and before his mind could catch up…
His lips brushed her cheek.
"G-good night!" he yelped, spinning around so quickly he nearly tripped over himself. He stumbled a couple of steps, cheeks burning, and fled down the corridor like a man escaping a battlefield.
Zhiyao watched his retreating back, lifted a hand to her cheek, and laughed under her breath.
"Idiot."
She turned toward her room as well, but the smile at her lips refused to hide.
The earlier gloom had been swept clean. What remained was sweetness, sticky as sugar.