“Yes.” Nalan Xuan answered coolly and casually. The man sitting in the seat of honor was nominally his father, but Nalan Xuan did not care in the slightest how he reacted. Treating him almost like empty air, he continued savoring the same tea he drank every day as though it were some rare delicacy. Incense burned in the room, carrying that same familiar scent—the fragrance that person had liked. When he had still been here, incense had burned in this room every day, faint and ethereal. After he left, the incense continued to burn, unchanged from day to day.
“Nonsense!” Just as expected, Nalan Jian exploded in fury. Nalan Xuan was not remotely surprised. He lazily glanced at the table that had nearly been shattered by a single slap and, if anything, found himself feeling unusually refreshed and pleased.
What father could tolerate his own son willingly lowering himself beneath another person, shamelessly offering himself up to serve another man and warm his bed? Nalan Jian was no ordinary wealthy gentleman, either. Even high-ranking officials had to bow and scrape before Marquis Dingbei. Yet from a household so exalted that even the greatest noble families had to regard it with caution had emerged an unfilial son like Nalan Xuan—someone who sought neither rank nor achievement, possessed no lofty ambition, and thought only of romantic affairs, worse still of sending himself into another man’s bed! No one could possibly remain calm about such a thing, and no father would sit down patiently to discuss the advantages and disadvantages. The fact that Nalan Jian had not immediately slapped him across the face already counted as extraordinary restraint and cultivation. Even if this were a son he despised and regarded as a disgrace, the very thought that a shameful secret he could barely conceal was now preparing to walk out the front door and humiliate the family publicly would be enough to make any man want to strangle him.
Nalan Xuan, however, remained utterly unconcerned. Calm and composed, he continued drinking his tea as though the furious man before him were nothing but air, unwilling even to look directly at him.
“Father, I’m only informing you of my decision. I’m not discussing whether it is feasible.” Nalan Xuan spoke lightly. “Simply put, this is what I have decided. I’m merely notifying you. If you approve, naturally that would be best. If you don’t, I won’t force you. But by the same token, please take back your pointless objections. I have no desire to hear them.”
He had not used the word in a very long time, yet apparently he still remembered it. But how bitter and mocking the word “Father” sounded coming from his own mouth. Nalan Xuan thought that perhaps one day the word would disappear entirely from his life, because it had never held any meaning there to begin with. Apart from humiliation, disgust, and indifference, fatherly love was even more absurd—nothing but nonsense. Yet that person had wished for Nalan Jian’s safety, and that person was the sole and final softness remaining within Nalan Xuan’s heart. For him, Nalan Xuan could pay any price and disregard any consequence.
Nalan Jian glared at him as though he wanted to swallow him alive. His eyes bulged, his chest heaving violently as he breathed in furious bursts. After a long while, he finally spoke through barely restrained rage. “Whatever you want, whatever you wish to do, I will do everything I can to satisfy you. But this one thing is impossible.”
Each word rang hard and clear, as though Nalan Jian wished he could grind them between his teeth and pour them directly into Nalan Xuan’s skull. Yet Nalan Xuan remained completely indifferent. Not even the corners of his eyes or brows shifted. Holding the teacup in one hand and the lid in the other, he idly brushed aside the leaves floating upon the surface, took a slow sip without caring whether the tea was good or bad, then smacked his lips as though thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’ve already said everything that needs to be said. Right now, only because you are my ‘father’ am I giving you this notification out of courtesy. If you can understand me, help me, and allow me to do this, naturally nothing could be better. But if you refuse to understand or help, then so be it. Everyone has his own aspirations, and such things cannot be forced. I expect nothing from you, so please don’t interfere with me either. I merely need to ‘remind’ Father in advance that no matter what happens, I intend to succeed. If you obstruct me, then I’ll have no choice but to deal with it. Should I end up doing something that violates the proper order between father and son, I hope ‘Father’ will forgive me.”
Nalan Xuan’s mind was made up, and nothing Nalan Jian said could change it. He told Nalan Jian that he intended to approach the Fifth Prince. Nalan Jian understood better than Nalan Xuan what it meant for a subject’s achievements to overshadow the ruler and what it meant to prepare for danger even in times of peace. The Nalan family did indeed need a patron, someone who could continue protecting their wealth and status for generations, or at the very least a final safeguard capable of preserving the lives of everyone in the clan. Yet strangely, Nalan Jian showed almost no concern over why Nalan Xuan had chosen the Fifth Prince.
“You’re practically trying to pull a tooth from a tiger’s mouth! If the matter is exposed, do you understand what you’ll face?” Nalan Jian was so anxious he nearly stamped his feet, pacing back and forth across the room without knowing how he could possibly persuade this son whose ideas were always outrageous and unrestrained. “Fine. Even if you truly succeed and get what you want, what are you doing it for?! You’re gambling with your own fate!”
“What am I doing it for?” Nalan Xuan gave a cold laugh. He almost wanted to walk over and take a good look at this man—this man who called himself his father. What right did he have to ask such a question? What right did he have to point fingers and interfere in Nalan Xuan’s life? “If even ‘Father’ doesn’t know, then how would I?”
The fury and aggressive momentum suddenly drained from Nalan Jian. His entire body seemed to sag, as though some helpless pain had abruptly returned to him. A faint sorrow settled over him. He sighed deeply, and for once there was even something resembling paternal tenderness and pain in his gaze. “…He would never want you to risk yourself.”
Anyone else could be mentioned, but not that person. Especially not from Nalan Jian’s mouth. Any reference to him, even a single word, felt like a desecration and insult that could not be tolerated. Until that moment Nalan Xuan had been taking a perverse pleasure in Nalan Jian’s anger, but now he reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, every hair standing on end as his voice instantly turned icy. “How do you know what he thought? How do you know what he would or wouldn’t want?! Nothing he ever said or did had anything to do with you, and there is no need to trouble Your Excellency with concern over it. The general’s wife in your residence certainly cannot tolerate so much as a grain of sand in her eye. Having a grain as enormous as us lodged in the estate all these years must truly have caused her terrible suffering! As for anything else, you have no right to ask and even less right to comment! If you had truly cared, truly been concerned, truly understood what he wanted, you never would have—”
“Enough!” Nalan Jian, who had only just calmed down, erupted like a volcano once more. Any officer who had ever followed him onto the battlefield would have had no doubt that he looked ready to draw a sword and kill someone. “What happened between us is not something a junior like you has any right to judge!”
Seeing Nalan Jian furious gave Nalan Xuan an oddly exhilarating rush. It was a diseased, distorted pleasure, yet Nalan Xuan enjoyed it immensely.
His manner turned brazen, carrying a sharp, vicious edge. Nalan Xuan almost wanted to throw back his head and laugh. “Heh, what’s wrong? You dared to do it, but now you’re afraid of people talking about it? Tsk, tsk. Why bother, Marquis Dingbei? The dead cannot testify. As long as you refuse to admit it, I could talk until the heavens split apart and it would still amount to nothing more than hot air.”
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