Chapter 98 Father and Son Meet - This is His Father
Since that day of quiet reflection, Xi Yuan's situation at the school has not improved but has become even more difficult.
As the morning bell rang, he entered the school as usual, only to find that the students who had originally sat next to him had all quietly moved to other seats.
He sat alone beside the empty desk, as if he were on a deserted island.
When the dean lectured, his gaze would always sweep over him with a deliberate distance.
This continued for five full days.
On the morning of the sixth day, Xi Yuan looked at her haggard face in the mirror and finally whispered to Wei Lei, who had come to urge her:
"Today... I'm not feeling well and would like to rest for a day."
Vire reached out to feel his forehead temperature, then carefully examined his evasive eyes, finally letting out a helpless sigh.
She placed the warmed medicinal meal on the table, the rising steam blurring the boy's lowered profile and concealing the loneliness in his eyes.
Fangru stood under the corridor, taking in all of this.
Watching her son grow thinner and thinner each day, and his appetite waning day by day, her heart tightened slightly.
As dusk fell, Violet gently closed Xi Yuan's door, walked to her side, and whispered, "Hiding like this isn't a long-term solution. I think it would be better to let him go to the military camp for some training. Young people need to experience some real hardship to understand their family's good intentions and to temper their character."
Fangru's fingertips trembled suddenly.
She was well aware that there had been undercurrents in Xilin County recently. The remnants of the Western Rong royal family, who were unwilling to accept the fall of their kingdom, had now become fierce bandits. Last month, they attacked two patrol teams, and the casualties among the officers and soldiers had not yet been fully replenished. Military camps were inherently dangerous places.
But when she recalled her son's focused concentration as he wrote outlines for others, the stubbornness in his eyes when he mentioned going to the capital, and compared it with his current dejected and withdrawn appearance, her heart hardened a little.
“Zhou Ling was already overseeing the country at the age of thirteen,” she said, gazing at the blood-red sunset on the horizon, imagining that figure far away in the Zichen Palace. Her voice was as soft as a dream, “My child, yet he is still so impatient and doesn’t understand the hardships of the world.”
Before dawn the next day, Fangru got up early and took out a box of specially made cosmetics.
She gently knocked on her son's door, and in the dim morning light filtering through the window, she carefully examined the face that was so similar to that person's. The arch of his eyebrows and the expression in the corners of his eyes were almost identical.
She lightly applied a little powder to his face, gently concealing any features that were too striking.
The boy's eyelashes trembled slightly, as if he were awake, but he kept his eyes closed and remained silent, letting her do as she pleased.
As the morning light pierced through the clouds and streamed through the window, the boy in the mirror looked different. His features now had a touch of the simple honesty of an ordinary person, but his eyes remained stubbornly bright and dazzling.
Military camp.
Fangru brought Xiyuan to Captain Dikai, her voice calm and unwavering: "Please take good care of this child and discipline him strictly."
Dikai looked the somewhat slender boy up and down, his brows furrowing slightly: "Judging by his build, he's probably still young. Can he endure the hardships of military life?"
“Children from poor families learn to be independent early and are not afraid of hardship.” Fangru interrupted at the right time, stuffing a heavy bag of silver into his hand. “This is just a small token of my appreciation. I hope you will take good care of me in the future.”
Xi Yuan stood silently the whole time, his gaze sweeping over his mother's slightly reddened eyes before finally settling on her departing figure.
The figure stood ramrod straight, but paused quietly as it walked away into the distance.
He clenched his fingers, the distinctive smell of rust and dust from the military camp hitting him, making him hold his breath.
Fangru walked more than ten steps out of the gate, but finally couldn't hold back and suddenly turned around.
In the dim morning light, my son's figure had already blended into the ranks of soldiers drilling, wearing a coarse cloth uniform that was no different from the others, and gradually became blurred and indistinguishable.
She raised her hand to lightly touch the corner of her eye, and her fingertips touched a cold, wet patch. A gust of wind blew, and the chill was bone-chilling.
...
Before the morning mist had even dissipated, Captain Dikai's bugle call pierced the tranquility of the military camp.
The soldiers hurriedly lined up and formed neat square formations on the parade ground.
Dikai, clad in gleaming armor, stood tall with his shoulders back straight and his gaze sharp as a hawk's, sweeping over the still youthful faces.
“We have distinguished guests arriving today,” his voice was deep and solemn in the cool morning breeze, “We need to send two camels to meet them. You, and you,” his finger pointed to several new recruits in the ranks, finally landing steadily on Xi Yuan, “you will come with me.”
Xi Yuan followed his gaze and saw two peculiar war chariots parked on one side of the training ground.
It was an armored chariot pulled by two tall camels, its carriage covered with thick bronze plates, and its wheels wrapped with specially made desert tracks. It was steady and reliable, like a mobile fortress in the desert.
An old soldier beside him explained in a low voice: "This is a Hammer Camel, specially built for desert marches. It is drought-resistant and thirst-resistant. There are only ten in the entire Xilin County."
"Captain," Xi Yuan couldn't contain his curiosity and stepped forward to ask, "May I ask which lord has come?"
Dikai glanced at him indifferently, his tone leaving no room for argument: "The identity of the official from the capital of Xia is none of your business." He paused, then softened his tone slightly, "Just do your job and keep your mouth shut."
A high-ranking official in the capital of Xia!
These four words struck like a thunderbolt, stirring up a thousand waves in Xi Yuan's heart.
An official from the capital might know palace secrets, or the emperor's current situation, or even... This thought made his heart race, and even his fingers trembled slightly as he reached to put on his armor.
With the help of the veteran, he carefully tightened each leather buckle.
The cold iron armor pressed down on his shoulders, its heavy weight almost making it hard for him to breathe, yet it couldn't suppress the surging emotions in his heart.
His helmet and sand mask completely covered his face, leaving only a pair of bright, expectant eyes staring intently at the two camels.
The camels moved slowly through the desert, their wheels grinding against the soft yellow sand with a soft, rustling sound, accompanied by the sound of the camel's hooves and the clear sound of its bells.
Xi Yuan gripped the handrail on the side of the carriage tightly, peering out through the observation hole.
As the sun rose higher and the sand dunes rose and fell, time slipped away little by little amidst the monotonous sounds.
About an hour later, a few black dots finally appeared on the horizon of the sand dunes ahead.
As they drew closer, it became clear that there were five or six fine horses, with several people standing solemnly beside them. The camels slowly came to a stop, raising a cloud of fine dust.
Dikai was the first to leap off the carriage, straightened his armor, and quickly saluted the group.
Xi Yuan followed closely behind, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the person in the lead.
The man wore a black brocade robe with a dark patterned cloak. His posture was as upright as a pine tree, and even standing in the vast desert, he exuded an aura of dominance over the world.
The wind lifted his cloak, revealing his sharply defined face. Xi Yuan felt as if the blood in his body had frozen in an instant, and he even forgot to breathe.
Time seemed to stand still at that moment.
That face, those slanted, sword-like eyebrows, that high, straight nose, those tightly pursed thin lips, and the innate majesty between his brows—every contour, every line, was exactly the same as the yellowed portrait under his pillow.
No, it is more vivid, more majestic, and more realistic than any portrait.
For eleven years, he has gazed at the painting every night, and that face has long been etched into his bones and fused into his blood.
And now, the person in the painting is standing right in front of me, in this boundless desert.
Xi Yuan subconsciously raised her hand and touched her cheek through the cold mask.
The metallic coolness that reached my fingertips could not suppress the turbulent waves in my heart.
He felt dizzy and had to reach out and grab the side of the carriage wall to keep his balance.
Breathing became rapid and hot under the helmet.
Zhou Ling did not reveal his true identity, but said in a calm and powerful voice: "I have been ordered to inspect the border affairs. My horses are not suitable for marching in the desert. I would like to trouble you all to escort me for a while."
Dikai clearly did not recognize that this was the current emperor, but only thought he was an ordinary official in the capital, and respectfully bowed: "You are too kind, sir, please get in the carriage."
Xi Yuan stood frozen in place, his gaze fixed on Zhou Ling.
At such close range, he could see the subtle similarities even more clearly: those peach blossom eyes that were exactly like his own, with the slight upturn at the corners; the same well-defined jawline; even the fine lines between his brows when he frowned, as if they were carved from the same mold.
He suddenly understood why his mother always made him use makeup to conceal his appearance. If these disguises were removed, anyone could see the blood ties that bound them together.
What shocked him even more was that Zhou Ling, although over thirty, looked no more than twenty.
Time seemed to have been exceptionally kind to this emperor; apart from the deep, dignified air between his brows, there were hardly any traces of time on his face.
"What are you still standing there for?" Dike's low voice startled him from his daze.
Xi Yuan hurriedly lowered his head, concealing the turbulent emotions in his eyes.
He stepped forward and helped Zhou Ling onto the camel. Even through his own armor, he could clearly feel the trembling in his heart.
At this moment, all the questions were answered.
No blood test is needed, no further questioning or verification is required; this resemblance etched in our bones, this unseen pull, has already explained everything.
He is a prince of the Great Xia Dynasty, a descendant of the emperor before him.
However, when the truth he had been searching for for eleven years was finally laid bare before him, he suddenly hesitated.
Thinking of his mother's forbearance and hardships over the years, and how she preferred to disguise herself as a man and struggle in this remote town rather than return to the emperor's side, he swallowed back the words that were about to come out.
The mother's choice must have been due to her unspeakable hardships.
The camel moved slowly through the rolling sand dunes, its heavy wheels leaving ruts of varying depths as it rolled over the yellow sand, bouncing slightly with the undulating terrain.
Through the gap in his mask, Xi Yuan's gaze remained fixed on the figure in black. Zhou Ling was discussing matters in hushed tones with his attendants, his slender fingers lightly tapping on the map, his profile becoming increasingly distinct in the swaying light and shadow of the carriage.
Occasionally, sand and dust would pelt the carriage. He would look out the window, and the sharp glint in his eyes, like a cold star breaking through the night, would make Xi Yuan's heart skip a beat.
This is his father.
This realization was like the scorching midday wind in the desert, burning his chest.
The resonance deep within his blood was clearly audible, almost breaking through the shackles of reason. But when he thought of his mother's forbearance and pretense over the years, the impulse that was about to burst forth was forcibly suppressed.
Behind the mask, the boy unconsciously bit his lower lip, his fingertips turning white from gripping so tightly.
Before long, the jolting in the carriage gradually intensified, and the sound of the camel's hooves became chaotic.
Zhou Ling suddenly raised his head, his slender fingers hovering above the map. His originally calm brows gradually furrowed, and his eyes darkened.
"Captain Di." His voice was clear and melodious, like the clinking of jade stones, neither too loud nor too soft, yet it pierced through the noise in the carriage, reaching everyone's ears clearly. "Are you sure this route is correct?"
Dikai, who was steadying himself against the side of the carriage, grinned when he heard this, his tone carrying a hint of disdain for the officials from the capital: "Don't worry, sir! These camels know the way very well. They've been running in the desert for over a decade, and they're even more astute than us natives. They won't make any mistakes."
Zhou Ling's gaze darkened slightly, his dark sleeves fluttered without wind, and an invisible pressure suddenly emanated from his body, causing the air in the carriage to freeze instantly: "The desert is treacherous and easy to ambush. The Western Rong bandits have been entrenched here for many years, how could they not know how to use the sandstorm to conceal their tracks?"
He tapped his knees lightly with his long, slender fingers, his rhythm steady, yet each word carried undeniable weight: "Immediately take control of the camels, slow them down, and be alert to your surroundings."
A hint of impatience flashed across Dikai's face, clearly feeling that this official from the capital was making a mountain out of a molehill, but out of respect for the other party's status, he could only bow and reply, "Your Excellency is overthinking it. We've traveled this road countless times and have never left it before..."
Before the word "matter" could be uttered, the train carriage suddenly tilted forward violently!
Yellow sand flew everywhere, and the sounds of clashing metal mingled with shouts of surprise.
Xi Yuan felt dizzy as his helmet slammed against the side wall, making his ears ring and his vision go black for a moment.
In the chaotic silence, he vaguely saw Zhou Ling's figure looming over him.
Those peach blossom eyes, so similar to his, had lost their usual majesty and now revealed a rare anxiety. As his thin lips parted, words seemed to pierce through his ears.
After a few breaths, my hearing gradually returned.
"Hurry! The carriage is about to collapse!" Zhou Ling's voice was calm and powerful, penetrating the chaos and reaching our ears clearly, carrying an undeniable sense of urgency.
Xi Yuan struggled to get up, but found that his left leg was firmly stuck in the deformed seat and he could not move.
Upon seeing this, Zhou Ling knelt down on one knee without hesitation, his slender fingers precisely gripping the twisted iron frame. The veins on the back of his hand bulged slightly from the force, yet he still maintained the steady precision of his fingertips.
With a sharp, metallic scraping sound, Xi Yuan felt his legs loosen as Zhou Ling grabbed his arm and pulled him up, his strength steady but not rough.
The moment they burst out of the carriage, the sound of arrows piercing the air filled the air, so sharp it sent chills down their spines.
A flying stone grazed Xi Yuan's mask and struck a soldier who had just climbed out of the carriage not far away, instantly turning him into a bloody mess.
Xi Yuan was so frightened that his whole body stiffened, and he forgot to move his hands and feet. But he saw Zhou Ling calmly draw his sword. The blade gleamed coldly in the blazing sun, as if it were covered with frost and snow.
"Use the carriages as cover!" Zhou Ling's voice showed no sign of panic. "Li Zuo, take some men and get muskets to fight back!"
He calmly gave instructions while wielding his sword to deflect the incoming arrows.
The longsword in his hand drew a sharp arc under the blazing sun, each strike precisely deflecting the incoming arrows without the slightest unnecessary movement.
His movements were fluid and graceful, carrying a composure that seemed out of place on the battlefield of life and death. It was as if he were not engaged in a life-or-death struggle, but rather performing a meticulously choreographed sword dance in the arena, where elegance and sharpness were perfectly blended.
Soon, his followers took out their muskets and launched a counterattack. Amidst the chaos of gunfire and arrows whistling through the air, he was still able to calmly turn his head amidst the hail of bullets.
His gaze swept past the chaotic figures and landed precisely on Xi Yuan. Without lingering for long, the moment their eyes met, the young man clearly caught a fleeting look of concern in Xi Yuan's phoenix eyes.
As the smoke cleared, the bandits fled in panic.
Zhou Ling sheathed his sword with clean, swift movements, his black robes fluttering in the wind, brushing away the dust that clung to his shoulders. Even after a fierce battle, his breathing remained steady and deep, as if he had merely taken a leisurely stroll.
“Li Zuo,” he said in a clear voice, “take inventory of the wounded and bring Lieutenant Di’s body with you.”
The crowd squeezed onto the only remaining camel, and the small carriage suddenly became extremely crowded.
Zhou Ling, however, remained upright and maintained impeccable manners. His robes were neat, and although his hair was slightly disheveled, it could not conceal his noble air. It was as if he were not in a disheveled post-war carriage, but standing in a solemn court.
Dikai's adjutant stepped forward tremblingly to apologize, his head almost touching his chest. He only glanced at him indifferently, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger: "We'll discuss this further back at the camp."
The camels slowly drove into the military camp in the afterglow of the setting sun.
The camp, which had already received the news, instantly sprang into action. Stretchers moved back and forth, and medics rushed around with their medicine kits to provide treatment. A faint smell of blood and medicine filled the air.
Upon hearing the news, Fangru rushed over and anxiously searched for that familiar figure in the bustling crowd, her heart pounding in her chest.
Finally, Xi Yuan was seen standing not far away. His armor was covered with sand and mottled marks, his face was a little pale, and his eyes still held the lingering fear, but he was indeed unharmed.
Fangru felt a huge weight lifted from her heart. Just as she was about to rush forward, she caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of her eye that made her blood freeze.
Zhou Ling strode over, his black robes fluttering in the twilight, exuding an invisible pressure.
As he walked, he raised his hand to take off his helmet and casually handed it to the guard beside him.
The golden rays of the setting sun shone on his sharply defined face, his eyebrows like swords, his phoenix eyes deep and unfathomable. The face that was etched deep in her memory, the face that she feared, was now fully revealed before her eyes.
Fangru stopped in her tracks instantly, her whole body stiffened, and she even forgot to regulate her breathing.
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