Chapter 308 Is there still a chance?
Porcelain shards flew everywhere, and the servants fell silent, even their breathing becoming extremely soft.
The air was thick with the lingering fury of the Duke of England and the suppressed sobs of Lady Zhao.
Fu'er was so frightened by the scene that her face turned pale. She tightly gripped Meng Shilan's clothes and hid behind her, only revealing a pair of terrified eyes.
Only the chubby little boy in Zhou Congxian's arms, oblivious to sorrow, was still curiously stretching his neck.
Zhou Congxian gently patted his son's back and pulled him closer to his chest.
He strode across the threshold and over the mess on the ground.
His steps were steady, each step precise, as if measured beforehand, landing precisely in the gaps between the broken porcelain pieces.
"Father."
He spoke, his voice as calm as a deep pool, without the slightest ripple.
"Why get so angry?"
The Duke of England was so angry that his lips were trembling, but he couldn't utter a single word, as if all his strength had been exhausted in that roar.
He abruptly flicked his sleeve and turned his head away.
His weathered face was filled with disappointment and pain.
Upon seeing this, Zhao quickly wiped away her tears and rushed to greet him.
She dared not look at her husband's face, nor dared to hold her son's hand; she could only turn her gaze to the two innocent children.
"Fu'er, Pangxi, come here quickly, come to your grandmother."
Her voice was hoarse, still wet with tears.
"The kitchen just made almond cream and hibiscus cake, come and have a taste."
She gave instructions to the maid behind her, her voice tinged with a hint of panic and ingratiation.
The maids, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, quickly retreated to prepare pastries and escape from the hellish main hall.
Zhou Congxian carried his son and walked to the center of the hall.
He knelt down on both knees, looking completely upright.
"Father, Mother."
His voice echoed deeply in the empty main hall.
"Your son has been sent on a secret mission by His Majesty to Ule to help Princess Yalan quell the rebellion."
"I was away from home for several months and only returned to Beijing the day before yesterday."
"For so long, the military situation has been urgent, and I have kept it from my parents, causing them to worry about their son."
"It's the son who is unfilial."
These words struck Zhao and the Duke of Yingguo like a thunderclap, leaving them both stunned.
To quell the rebellion in Ule?
His Majesty's secret decree?
They only knew that their son had married into the Meng family, but they were unaware that he was carrying out such a dangerous imperial mission.
Zhao's heart clenched suddenly.
Looking at her son's much thinner face and the lingering murderous aura between his brows, tears welled up in her eyes once again.
The anger on the British Duke's face momentarily subsided.
But the resentment of being humiliated in his chest did not dissipate.
After a moment of silence, he let out a cold snort from his nose.
"snort."
"What's the point of saying all this?"
He turned his face away from his kneeling son, his voice cold and hard as iron.
"Now that you are a member of the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion, no matter how many merits or achievements you have, they are all for the sake of the Meng family's reputation."
"What does this have to do with my Zhou family?"
This statement is more hurtful than any insult.
Zhou Congxian's lips were pressed tightly together into a straight line.
He lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes casting a dim shadow beneath them.
He slowly raised his head and gently placed the chubby little boy in his arms on the ground in front of him.
He held his son's small shoulders and pushed him forward a little.
"Zhou Jiacheng".
His voice was clear and firm.
"Greetings to your grandfather and grandmother."
Zhou Jiacheng.
Even the British Duke's stiff back trembled almost imperceptibly.
Fatty had no idea about the undercurrents between the adults.
He only remembered that his ancestor had taught him that if he kowtowed, he would receive a red envelope containing lots and lots of money, which he could use to buy candied hawthorns.
Upon hearing his father's words, he immediately and nimbly lay down and bumped his head hard.
Then, he raised his head, his big, bright eyes, like black grapes, looked at the Duke of England, and called out in a childish voice.
"grandfather!"
After calling out, he skillfully stretched out his two chubby little hands.
He spread it out, holding it up with great anticipation.
This instantly lessened the somber and desolate atmosphere that filled the room.
Meng Shilan rubbed her forehead, feeling utterly helpless.
She knew this would happen.
The maternal grandfather really spoiled the two children, and would often tease them with red envelopes.
Now look what's happened; she's raised her son to be a little money-grubber.
She quickly stepped forward, squatted down, and pulled down her son's outstretched little hands that were begging for a reward.
"No fooling around."
There was only one word in Zhao's mind.
week.
The child... has the surname Zhou?
She always believed that, according to the custom of marrying into the wife's family, the child should take the mother's surname, Meng.
Now, she heard her son say with his own ears that the child's name is Zhou Jiacheng.
It's Zhou Jiacheng!
A tiny flame quietly ignited in the depths of her long-dead heart.
Is there... is there still a chance for things to turn around?
As long as the child's surname is Zhou, will they eventually come back?
A glimmer of hope flashed in her eyes.
She stared at Zhou Congxian, her lips trembling, wanting to ask but not daring to.
Zhou Congxian understood the expectation in his mother's eyes.
That expectation, like a needle, pricked his heart with a slight pain.
He slowly shook his head.
"Mother."
His words shattered all her illusions.
"His Majesty's words are law, the imperial edict has been issued and cannot be changed."
Zhou Congxian reached out and gently patted the top of Xiaopangxi's head.
His gaze passed over his mother and landed on the stubborn back of the figure that was still facing away from him.
"Father."
His voice was calm, yet carried a heartbreaking resolve.
"The son is the son of the Zhou family, and Cheng'er is also the grandson of the Zhou family."
"This will never change, no matter where my son is or what his name is."
"only……"
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
"Some things cannot be changed, cannot be altered, and cannot be obtained."
These words conveyed an unspeakable sense of helplessness.
“In the future, you shall pass on the title of Duke of England to your second brother.”
"Although my second brother is still young, he is calm, knowledgeable, thoughtful, and kind-hearted."
"With the Duke of England's mansion in his hands, you and Mother can rest assured."
Zhao's heart sank suddenly.
A strong sense of unease gripped her instantly.
She stepped forward, took her son's arm, and spoke in a strained voice.
"Xian'er... what... what do you mean by this?"
Are you going somewhere?
"Why...why would you say something like that?"
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