HNYWEF -Chapter 167 Sudden Realization

The marquis estate was quiet.

Sunlight streamed through the window lattice, falling onto the floor in a bright patch.

Zhou Xiong sat by the window, holding neither a cigarette nor a teacup. He simply sat there motionless.

He had been sitting like this for a long time.

Only one thing kept turning over and over in his mind—

Zhangsun Wuji had apologized.

That man, who valued power more than his own life, had sat in the main hall of the Duke of Qi’s estate a few days ago, lowered his head, and said “I’m sorry” to him.

Zhou Xiong could not understand it.

He had been thinking about it for days.

Ever since returning from the Duke of Qi’s estate that day, he had kept thinking.

Thinking until he tossed and turned at night unable to sleep. Thinking until he sat blankly by the window during the day. Thinking until much of the haze in his mind had cleared away—

and still he could not understand.

A man who valued authority so heavily that he could abandon pride, relationships, everything for it—

why would such a person lower himself before him?

What did he have that Zhangsun Wuji would value enough to do that?

What could Zhangsun Wuji possibly want from him? There was nothing to gain.

Then why?

Sitting by the window, Zhou Xiong felt the string in his mind tighten tighter and tighter, so taut that his temples throbbed.

He stood up and paced two steps around the room before stopping again.

Then he sat down again, only to rise once more.

His hands hung at his sides. He clenched them, then loosened them.

He did not even know why he was walking around.

As if possessed, he left the room, crossed the corridor, passed through the moon gate, and headed toward the back courtyard.

Two people were there.

Zhou Yi and Li Lizhi sat by the stone table with several books spread out before them, seemingly reviewing their lessons.

Li Lizhi held a book while Zhou Yi pointed at something beside her, the two speaking softly together.

When Zhou Xiong walked over, both of them looked up.

The moment Zhou Yi saw his father’s expression, he froze.

His brows were furrowed, his eyes fixed straight ahead, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Li Lizhi also paused and slowly put down her book.

Zhou Xiong stood before them for a long while.

Then he spoke.

The words squeezed out from his throat, hoarse and rough, carrying the confusion of someone who had thought about something for far too long without finding an answer.

“Zhangsun Wuji… a man who values power that much… why would he lower himself before me?”

Zhou Yi froze.

Looking at Zhou Xiong’s face, he realized the expression there was not anger, nor confusion born of madness—

it was bewilderment.

The kind of bewilderment that came from thinking until one’s head nearly split open, from twisting oneself into knots trying to understand something and still failing.

Li Lizhi was stunned too.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but she did not know what to say.

She knew her uncle really was that kind of person.

She did not know what had happened that day at the Duke of Qi’s estate. She only knew that after Father went there once, he had not seemed quite right afterward.

Zhou Xiong did not wait for their answer.

He stood there, looking at Zhou Yi’s face, looking into Li Lizhi’s eyes, and suddenly a flash of clarity came over him.

“Lower himself?”

He repeated those two words.

His voice was very soft, as though it had merely slipped out of his throat, as though he had never intended anyone to hear it.

He froze there.

The taut string in his mind, stretched tight for days, suddenly halted on those words.

Lower himself?

He had spent all this time wondering why Zhangsun Wuji could let go of his pride—

but he had never considered another question.

Had he himself ever let go?

He remembered that rainy night, crouching before the pile of rubble, digging with his bare hands again and again until his fingernails split open without him even noticing.

He remembered carrying the child as he walked, stumbling through rain and mud, walking for nine years until even his eyes had gone empty.

He remembered those years when, every Qingming Festival, he poured a bowl of wine and placed it on the table, never saying for whom it was meant.

He remembered Zhou Yi asking how his mother died, and him answering, “She died in the chaos of war.”

He had said it for fifteen years.

Said it until even he himself believed it.

He had never let go.

Not of anything.

He thought he had recovered.

He could laugh now, curse at people now, even argue with Cheng Yaojin now.

But he had merely buried everything down deep.

Pressed it to the very bottom, hidden where it could not be seen, and convinced himself it was gone.

Now even Zhangsun Wuji could let go.

But what about him?

Zhou Xiong stood there motionless.

The haze in his eyes had already dissipated, like mud slowly sinking to the bottom of water, leaving clarity upon the surface.

He looked at Zhou Yi.

Zhou Yi looked back at him.

He stared at that face—that face identical to hers—for a very long time.

Then suddenly his eyes reddened.

Zhou Yi stood up.

“Dad?”

Zhou Xiong did not speak.

He simply stood there looking at Zhou Yi, eyes red, lips trembling, yet no sound came out.

Li Lizhi also rose and stood beside Zhou Yi, watching Zhou Xiong.

She did not know what to say either. She merely reached out and held Zhou Yi’s hand.

Zhou Xiong lowered his head.

He looked at their clasped hands for a while.

Then he turned around and walked back the way he came.

His pace was neither fast nor slow, each step landing upon the stone path.

After taking two steps, he suddenly stopped without turning around.

He stood there silently for a moment.

Then he continued walking forward, his figure disappearing behind the moon gate.

Zhou Yi remained standing in the courtyard, staring toward the direction his father had vanished, motionless.

Li Lizhi still held his hand and did not let go.

A gust of wind swept through, flipping several pages of the book atop the stone table with a rustling sound.

No one paid it any attention.