Chapter Sixty-Six: Father and Daughter Reunited

When Zhongli Yu and his companions arrived at the city gate, Yang Ming had already been waiting there for a long time with Zhan Tianyi. Zhongli Yu led Yang Qi up to the city tower of Wangcheng, overlooking Yang Ming from a lofty height. Meanwhile, Zhong Yi Lan and Zhong Yi Jin, having heard that Zhongli Yu intended to exchange the Second Prince of Xiyuan for the return of the Duke of Zhennan, had hurried over early to witness the event. Of course, accompanying them were several generals from Dongling, including Liang Ruhai, Liu An, and others.

Zhan Tianyi trembled upon seeing Zhan Yan. How could this woman so closely resemble Xiner? Though the distance was considerable, his eyesight was sharp; he could see clearly. This woman was even more beautiful than Xiner, yet her features were strikingly similar. Could Yan Kuan have lied to him? Was it possible his daughter was still alive? Judging by her age, if his child had survived, she would be about this old. In that moment, his eagerness to return to Wangcheng became overwhelming; he wanted to ask this woman who she was, and why she looked so much like Xiner.

Zhan Yan, too, immediately spotted Zhan Tianyi. That face was so familiar—Yan Kuan had worn it for sixteen years. Yet the Zhan Tianyi before her now was not Yan Kuan; his eyes shone with excitement when he looked at her, and she was sure he recognized her at once. That blood-born connection, that silent resonance of kinship, could not be ignored. As their eyes met, father and daughter reunited, separated by more than a decade. Zhan Yan’s eyes grew moist; at this moment, she was utterly certain—this was her father. She had worried previously about Xiyuan playing tricks, sending a false Duke of Zhennan, so she had brought Grandpa Meng along to help confirm his identity; with Grandpa Meng’s expertise in medicine, he could see through any disguise or deception. But after this exchange of glances, she was sure—this man was her father.

Zhongli Yu saw Zhan Yan’s excitement and understood—Zhan Tianyi truly lived, and he was deeply pleased.

Yang Ming, seeing Yang Qi safe and sound, finally felt at ease. He glanced at Zhongli Yu, whom he had never met, and thus didn’t realize the man on the tower was the Prince Chun, nearly driven to death by their Second Prince. Noting Zhongli Yu’s presence beside Yang Qi, and the respectful demeanor of everyone towards him, Yang Ming guessed he was a high-ranking official. He addressed Zhongli Yu: “I am Yang Ming, Duke Ding of Xiyuan. May I ask your name, General? I have brought the Duke of Zhennan. May we now exchange him for our Second Prince?”

Upon hearing Yang Ming introduce himself as the Duke Ding of Xiyuan, Zhongli Yu recalled his investigations into Zhan Yan’s family—he was so invested in Zhan Yan that he had thoroughly researched her mother’s origins. Realizing Yang Ming’s title, he understood that this man was Zhan Yan’s uncle. His tone became naturally more polite: “I have long heard of Duke Ding’s reputation. I am Zhongli Yu.”

“You’re the Prince Chun?” Yang Ming was astonished; Zhongli Yu hadn’t died? Previously, it was said Zhongli Yu had agreed to end his life to save the people of Dongling; Yang Ming had privately admired the prince for his sacrifice. Seeing him now, Yang Ming couldn’t help but show a hint of respect, though he quickly masked it, remembering his purpose.

“I am. Now, may I ask Duke Ding to return the Duke of Zhennan to Dongling?” Zhongli Yu said calmly.

“Of course, as soon as you release the Second Prince, I will immediately release the Duke of Zhennan.” Yang Ming was eager; his mission was to retrieve the Second Prince.

“You must release the Duke of Zhennan first, and I will then immediately release Yang Qi.”

“This…” Yang Ming hesitated, glancing at Yang Qi.

“What’s wrong, Duke Ding? Do you not trust me?” Zhongli Yu cast a cold look at Yang Qi, then spoke softly to him, “Tell him to release the prisoner, or I’ll send you to meet the King of Hell.”

Yang Qi was furious—this was clearly unfair. Why weren’t they exchanging prisoners simultaneously, but requiring his side to act first?

As if he could read Yang Qi’s thoughts, Zhongli Yu whispered, “Do you truly believe your life is so worthless? Is it not even worth as much as the life of a prince of Dongling?” Zhongli Yu was determined they release the Duke of Zhennan first; if Xiyuan resorted to treachery and harmed Zhan Yan’s father, he would have no face left before her. Besides, Yang Qi’s release was not due yet; certain people still needed to arrive.

“You…” Yang Qi was enraged; this was the second time today he’d been told his life was worthless. Yet he feared death—Zhongli Yu was right. If the prince reneged and killed him, he would suffer greatly. Helpless, he conceded, “Yang Ming, release him.”

“The Second Prince—”

“Silence! Are you refusing to obey?” Yang Qi cut him off before Yang Ming could say more.

“Release him.” Yang Ming waved his hand, and the guards holding Zhan Tianyi immediately let him go. Zhan Tianyi rushed towards the city tower of Wangcheng, eager to learn who this woman was that so resembled Xiner. Though the chains binding his wrists and ankles slowed him, he forced himself forward, his eyes never leaving Zhan Yan.

Dongling’s soldiers watched him curiously, puzzled by his constant gaze at Zhan Yan. When they looked at Prince Chun, they saw he was not angered by the Duke of Zhennan staring at his wife.

Seeing her father’s eyes fixed on her, his excitement unhidden, Zhan Yan could wait no longer. She tapped her toes lightly, used her martial skills, and sped toward Zhan Tianyi. In no time, she reached him, stretched out her delicate hand, and gently swept him up, bringing him swiftly to where Zhongli Yu stood.

Zhan Yan set her father down gently. Everyone stared, dumbfounded, wondering what connection this woman had to Zhan Tianyi, that she would rush to greet him so boldly.

Once released, Zhan Tianyi’s voice trembled, “Who are you? How do you look so much like Xiner? Are you the child of Xiner and me?”

Seeing her father’s agitation, Zhan Yan’s heart ached. How deeply must he have loved her mother, for after sixteen years, he could recognize her resemblance at a glance. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she softly called, “Father.”

“You’re my daughter—you truly are my daughter.” Zhan Tianyi was overcome, his eyes wet. Heaven had shown mercy; his daughter lived. Yan Kuan had lied—his daughter had not died.

“Yes, I am your daughter. My name is Zhan Yan.” She wiped away the tears threatening to fall, speaking gently. Now, she no longer feared others knowing her identity, for the sake of reclaiming her father, she did not mind being recognized as the eldest daughter of the Duke of Zhennan.

“Child, you have suffered so much these years.” Zhan Tianyi hugged Zhan Yan tightly, gratitude flooding his heart. Sixteen years of darkness had been worth it for this day, when he could see his daughter again.

Zhan Yan finally broke down in tears. This, at last, was her true father—the one who, even in misery, thought first of his child. After sixteen years of imprisonment, seeing his daughter, he did not complain or lament, but immediately thought of how hard her days without parental protection must have been. A father’s love is as steadfast as a mountain, so heavy and profound. She thought of her parents in her previous life—how much pain they must have endured after her loss. Though many years had passed, Zhan Yan still felt a stabbing ache whenever she remembered her former parents. Now, reborn, she had a father who truly loved her. Were her modern parents living well? In this moment, Zhan Yan wept recklessly, caring for nothing else. Only she knew how bitter her heart had been all these years. After crying, she would bury all memories of her previous life deep in her heart, for they were her most beautiful treasures.

Zhongli Yu saw Zhan Yan weeping so sorrowfully and grew anxious, feeling as if Yan’er were suddenly so far from him, as though she did not belong to this world. He called out urgently, “Yan’er?”