Wanqing’s POV

When Tang Jiangxuan and Lin Anyuan arrived, Han Luo rushed up here just to inform me. I had only just finished putting on my robe when I received news that they had already left.

That was strange.

Just when I could have taken my robe off and perhaps rested for a while, Father summoned me instead.

I had not done anything wrong this time, so why exactly did he want to see me?

I tugged my robe closer around myself as I stared at the heavy doors in front of me.

’Time to get this over with’

The guard stationed outside pulled the doors open for me. Without sparing him a glance, I stepped into the room.

General Gu sat in his usual place beside the window, the table before him covered in parchment.

"Father," I called out quietly.

He definitely heard my voice but made no move to acknowledge me. That was hardly surprising.

"Your visitors left after dropping off an invitation," he said calmly, finally lifting his gaze from the papers.

His cold grey eyes narrowed slightly. His fingers remained intertwined on the table with his jaw resting against them.

"They never informed me they intended to visit," I replied, tilting my head slightly.

Anyuan would never travel this far simply to deliver an invitation.

Jiangxuan?

Yes.

He absolutely would.

"I thought as much, but that isn’t why I called you here," General Gu said.

The look on his face made me frown.

Still, I had little interest in whatever this conversation was meant to be. I had planned on visiting Tiger later.

That mattered far more than this.

"That slave of yours. Does she still serve as your personal maid?" he asked, straightening as he picked up the cup resting beside the papers.

"She doesn’t," I answered simply.

Why was he asking about Anning?

Did she cause trouble?

No.

She had spent months rebuilding her reputation. I knew how much effort she put into making people lower their guards around her.

She would not ruin that without a valid reason.

"I suppose that explains why she’s behaving so far above her station," he remarked before taking a sip from his cup.

I frowned.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He placed the cup back onto the table.

"Wanqing, I am going to ask you a question, and I expect you to answer truthfully." He said coldly. "Do not lie to me."

I ran my tongue across my lower lip. I hoped this had nothing to do with Anning. With how expressionless his face looked, I knew something was wrong.

"I understand, Father," I said stiffly.

The sound of my own voice made me frown slightly.

"Where exactly did you get that slave from?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Oh.

"We met at the central market," I answered. "She found herself in trouble. I simply helped her out of it."

The corner of my mouth lifted slightly before I could stop it.

I remembered the first time I saw her. That dreadful potato sack she had on and her silver hair that looked slightly uneven.

I had not missed the way her eyes lingered on my lips before she ran away. Yet, the look in her eyes told me she was ready to bite anyone that would lay a hand on her.

"I see," Father muttered.

Silence settled between us for a brief moment.

Then he pushed himself to his feet. He slowly walked towards me, his hands clasped behind his back.

For a man so eager to exert control over others, he often moved as though anticipating retaliation.

"Wanqing," he said, stopping a few feet away, "why exactly are you protecting that slave?"

My heart stopped beating. I had to resist the urge to curl my hands into fists. If I showed even a slightest ounce of emotion, he would keep asking me questions.

And those questions would end up revealing some weakness.

Even though I didn’t have one.

I allowed a small smile onto my face before meeting Father’s gaze.

"Because she’s my slave," I replied evenly. "That makes her my responsibility."

Then, after a pause, I added, "She also keeps me company."

The words sounded strange spoken aloud.

My thoughts drifted elsewhere. To the day I had kissed tiger and then discovered how my father had laid his filthy hands on her.

The only thing I felt at that moment was shame. I shared blood with a man incapable of restraining himself.

He violated his own cousin. Then he had the audacity to turn his attention toward Anning.

Me and Anning weren’t on good terms, but that didn’t mean I would allow him lay a hand on her.

"If that girl brings disaster upon this family, I will deal with her personally," General Gu said as he stepped back before turning away.

"You will do no such thing, General Gu," I replied immediately. "I purchased her with my own money. I decide—"

Smack.

I had been too occupied reminding him of his place that I failed to anticipate it.

The side of my face he had slapped stung like a bitch, my hands beside my body trembled.

Whether from anger or something else, I refused to acknowledge.

"You will remember how to speak to me, Wanqing," he said, stepping closer.

"You are forbidden from being with her."

Before I could respond, he seized a fistful of my hair and yanked me forward until only inches separated us.

"You promised to leave Anning alone," I said through clenched teeth, closing my eyes briefly as his breath brushed across my face.

The sharp scent of alcohol made my stomach turn.

"You promised that if I accepted punishment for her actions."

"That was before," he snapped, releasing my hair.

I stumbled back.

"There’s speculation that your dear slave is a noblewoman."

I froze.

For the first time since entering this room, genuine confusion slipped through the cracks in my composure.

"What?" I blurted out.

Father slowly turned to face me again.

"The silver-haired guest who accompanied Tang Jiangxuan."

His expression darkened.

"His name is Lin Anyuan." I said softly.

"He bears an unfortunate resemblance to your slave."