“Father, I remember that since my birth, you’ve never told me anything about my mother. I don’t even know what she looked like. Could you tell me something about her?”
Taking the portrait handed over by Honglian, Wanqing motioned for Honglian and the other maids to leave. Only then did she turn to Mu Zhenfeng, who had set down his teacup upon noticing her actions. With a curious expression, she asked him.
“Your mother… Speaking of your mother, she was a gentle and virtuous woman.”
Mu Zhenfeng’s face softened with longing as he spoke of his beloved, gazing out the window as if addressing her.
“I heard she was from Daqi. Is that true?”
Seeing her father’s nostalgic expression for the woman named Suxiang, Wanqing didn’t press further but instead posed a question in return.
“How did you know that?”
Her words startled him. He recalled that when he first met Qiuxiang, he indeed knew she was from Daqi. She had claimed to have arrived in Daming with a Daqi merchant caravan, as her parents were still alive then. Fearing his parents might disapprove of Qiuxiang’s origins, he had lied to them and the entire household, saying she was one of them. Moreover, though Qiuxiang was from Daqi, her appearance was entirely different from typical Daqi people—she looked just like a native of Daming.
This was something only he and Qiuxiang had known. How could she know now? Mu Zhenfeng stared at her in shock. “Don’t ask me how I know. Just tell me, is it true or not?” Seeing his stunned expression, Wanqing couldn’t guess his thoughts but smiled faintly and pressed on.
“Yes. Though she looked like a Daming native, she was truly from Daqi.”
Her response made Mu Zhenfeng realize his daughter was far from simple. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded and admitted, “It seems I guessed right. Then, Father, is this person my mother?”
Noting his uneasy and suspicious expression, Wanqing decided not to keep him in suspense any longer. Smiling, she unrolled one of the scrolls and showed it to him. “Yes, this is a portrait of your mother. Qing’er, you—”
Mu Zhenfeng’s eyes widened in shock and joy as he recognized the familiar face in the portrait Wanqing held. He looked at her in astonishment. “It seems it’s true. Then, do you recognize this person?”
Ignoring his reaction, Wanqing smiled faintly and produced another painting. “And what about this one?”
His eyes filled with even greater disbelief as she showed him another portrait—this time of herself and the late Consort Hui. The resemblance between them was striking, though Consort Hui was far more beautiful, while Wanqing’s features were delicate and spirited. Still, their shared facial structure and expressions made their connection unmistakable.
“It seems you’ve known for a while. Father, I didn’t believe it at first, but after seeing this painting someone gave me, I had another portrait made of myself wearing the same style of clothing. The similarity… Father, tell me, am I really your and Mother’s biological daughter?”
Mu Zhenfeng’s face was a mix of shock and unease. Wanqing met his gaze calmly, then asked expectantly as she noticed the guilt and sorrow in his eyes. “I… I truly didn’t know before. But… you are indeed not our biological child. Qing’er, how did you find out?”
Her question left Mu Zhenfeng feeling as though he lacked the courage to face her. After a pause, he looked up and asked in bewilderment, “How did you learn the truth?”
“How I know doesn’t matter. But I do know that you and my mother—this woman named Qiuxiang, also known as Suxiang—did have a child together…”
Seeing the turmoil in Mu Zhenfeng’s eyes, Wanqing felt an indescribable emotion. The sorrow and regret in his expression made her soften. Despite their strained relationship, she spoke calmly, referring to the daughter he and her adoptive mother had shared.
“You…” His shock deepened at her words.
“Qing’er, I knew you’d find out eventually. But I never expected it to happen so soon. I wronged you before, even took out my anger on you because of my misunderstandings with your mother—Suxiang. If you hate me for how I treated you, I have no excuses. I—”
Wanqing’s relentless questions and revelations made Mu Zhenfeng feel as though the sky was collapsing. Though she wasn’t his biological daughter, she was Consort Hui’s child—a princess of the realm. Worse, her extraordinary detoxification skills were his only hope for curing the poison in his body. Fearing she might leave him upon learning the truth, he looked at her with remorse.
“You misunderstand. I don’t blame you, nor do I have the right to hate you. What man could tolerate raising another’s child as his own? Yet, the daughter you and Suxiang had—I heard she was also a girl—was sent into the palace by Suxiang to protect me. She was presented to my mother, Consort Hui, as me, and was killed because of it. How could I resent you or her for such a sacrifice? Father, don’t you agree?”
Seeing the grief in Mu Zhenfeng’s eyes, Wanqing realized he had misread her intentions. She met his gaze and called him “Father” once more.
“You mean… you mean…” The thought that Suxiang had exchanged their own child to save Wanqing, only for their daughter to be murdered, left him reeling. He had spent years resenting Suxiang for her supposed betrayal, only to learn now of her unwavering loyalty. The weight of his regret was crushing.
“Yes. Suxiang gave up your child to save me. How could I not repay such a debt? From now on, I will still be your daughter—yours and Suxiang’s. I will do everything in my power to protect you and uncover the truth behind the deaths of my mother, your daughter, and Suxiang. I will avenge them. Father…”
Mu Zhenfeng’s disbelief was palpable. Wanqing spoke firmly, her gratitude for their sacrifice evident in her eyes. As she thought of those who had orchestrated the deaths of her mother, Suxiang, and the innocent infant, a rare coldness flickered in her gaze. Reaching out, she placed her hand over Mu Zhenfeng’s trembling fingers on the table, her voice thick with emotion.
“Oh, my dear daughter. Qing’er, who was it that harmed them? I heard from Lady Liu that it was the Grand Preceptor. Is that…?”
Her heartfelt address brought tears to Mu Zhenfeng’s eyes. Overwhelmed with gratitude, he asked about their shared enemy, recalling Lady Liu’s earlier claims.
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