Chapter 18

Old Master Fang disagreed, leaving Fang Hui disappointed. Pouting, she half-whined, “Grandfather, Big Brother is here taking care of you and won’t be staying in the bridal chamber anyway. Why can’t I go? I’ll keep Sister-in-law company for him.”

Old Master Fang adored his youngest granddaughter. Though he refused her request, he wasn’t angry—just amused. “This isn’t something you can substitute for. Be good, Niu Niu. If you want to visit, go during the day.”  

Then, turning to Fang Hanxiao, he said, “Xiao’er, you should return to the bridal chamber tonight. There are plenty of servants here to attend to me—it doesn’t have to be you.”  

Fang Hanxiao remained noncommittal.  

The look on his face made Old Master Fang choke—not in anger, but with a deep, helpless frustration. Five years was no short span of time. Fang Hanxiao had left at sixteen and returned at twenty-one, the most formative years of his life. During that crucial period, he had stepped out from under his grandfather’s protective wing. The once lively and talkative eldest grandson had leapt resolutely off a cliff like a fledgling eagle, weathering storms and hardships alone.  

Outwardly, the Fang Hanxiao who had finally returned didn’t seem to have suffered much—just grown taller and more mature. But Old Master Fang couldn’t deceive himself. He knew his grandson must have endured hardships.  

For one thing, caring for a severely ill patient was no simple task, yet Fang Hanxiao had taken over his care immediately upon returning, needing no instruction from the servants—only asking Doctor Wang about the necessary precautions. Back when he’d lived at home, he’d never done such work. Where had he learned these caregiving skills? Old Master Fang had asked, but Fang Hanxiao refused to answer, and he dared not dwell on it further.  

He couldn’t bear to think too deeply about it, nor could he bring himself to press his grandson. So he let it remain vague, pretending the boy had simply gone out to play and returned when he’d had his fill.  

But he couldn’t always maintain such optimism.  

The thing was, when people lost their voice, their ability to express themselves inevitably suffered, and their temperament often changed along with it. Fang Hanxiao had changed too—but in a different direction. His muteness didn’t trouble him; it troubled others.  

Take Old Master Fang right now, for example. Fang Hanxiao’s calm, unreadable expression was even more frustrating than when he blocked conversation with pre-written notes. Because once Fang Hanxiao set aside brush and paper, he severed all means of communication—and no one could do anything about it. How could anyone justify bullying a mute?  

Sometimes, Old Master Fang even felt that his grandson hadn’t been burdened by his muteness—instead, he’d turned it into a weapon.  

The thought made him swell with pride—though it would be even better if Fang Hanxiao didn’t wield it against him.  

“Xiao’er, I’m talking to you. Move back to the bridal chamber tonight—do you hear me?” Encouraged by the thought of holding a great-grandson, Old Master Fang pressed the matter again.  

This time, Fang Hanxiao finally responded—with one of his three universal notes: *Worry less, rest more.*  

“Hey, you little—!” Old Master Fang huffed, his few remaining whiskers bristling in indignation.  

Fang Hanxiao was already signaling Ying Yue with his eyes, telling her she could leave.  

Unconcerned with the clash between grandfather and grandson, Ying Yue turned to go as if escaping disaster—but Old Master Fang suddenly remembered something. “Wait!”  

He asked Fang Hanxiao, “What about the red envelope I told you to prepare the other day? Give it to your wife.”

No matter how dissatisfied he was with Ying Yue, the bride had been summoned by him to pay respects, so she couldn’t leave empty-handed—a gift was necessary. The red envelope had been prepared long ago, though he hadn’t expected the person actually entering the door to be someone else.  

Fang Hanxiao nodded and went to the standing cabinet to retrieve the red envelope, then pressed it into Ying Yue’s hand as she hesitated.  

Ying Yue was reluctant to accept it, but Fang Hanxiao didn’t bother with formalities—he simply stuffed it into her palm. Afraid it might drop, she hurriedly cupped it in both hands. The envelope looked ordinary, just a red pouch, but its contents were light, possibly containing nothing more than a slip of paper.  

Old Master Fang couldn’t help but worry over another matter. “Xiao’er, now that you’ve married this one, what about the previous arrangement? Has the marriage certificate been changed? Hmm—since you might find it inconvenient to handle these matters, call your second uncle over. I’ll speak to him.”  

Fang Hanxiao paused slightly on his way back to the bedside. He hadn’t given much thought to the matter. Ying Yue’s substitution had been something he simply accepted—as for the marriage certificate, having never been married before, he hadn’t dealt with such formalities. If Old Master Fang hadn’t mentioned it, he truly wouldn’t have remembered.  

He wrote for Old Master Fang: *Understood. No need for Second Uncle—I’ll handle it.*  

Old Master Fang read it and sighed. “Fine, if you say so. I won’t force you if you dislike your second uncle. Once I close my eyes for good, everything here will be yours anyway. Even if you squander it, there’ll be enough to last you.”  

Fang Hanxiao’s brow lifted slightly, and for once, a faint smile appeared. He casually turned his wrist and wrote: *I don’t dislike Second Uncle.*  

Old Master Fang snorted. “Why put on a tough act in front of your grandfather?”  

Even in his sickbed, he had come to terms with things. If his grandson and son couldn’t get along, so be it. Forcing the grandson to bow under his uncle’s roof—no matter how well-intentioned—would only bring him hardship. What was the point?  

But Fang Hanxiao actually took another sheet of paper and earnestly wrote again: *Truly, I don’t. After being away, I’ve grown wiser.*  

“…” Old Master Fang was skeptical. He had already been exhausted from speaking for so long, but he mustered a bit more energy. “I don’t believe it, Xiao’er. Don’t just placate me.”  

Though he said this, a flicker of hope had already sparked in his heart. What elder wouldn’t wish for harmony within the family? If there had been past grievances, well—family matters should stay within the family. It was best to let bygones be bygones and move forward, slowly rebuilding goodwill.  

Fang Hanxiao dipped his brush again and swiftly wrote: *Times have changed. Now that I’m back, it’s Second Uncle who might find me an inconvenience. It’s not me who’s unhappy—it’s him.*  

Old Master Fang stared at the words, momentarily stunned. “What nonsense—why would your second uncle find you a bother—”  

But he wasn’t one to deceive himself. Knowing the tension between uncle and nephew, forcing pleasantries was pointless. He cut himself off mid-sentence, reread Fang Hanxiao’s words, and then, following the logic, understood. “Ah, so if your second uncle is unhappy, *you’re* happy.”  

Though Fang Hanxiao hadn’t phrased it that way, he didn’t deny it—just smiled faintly and took the paper back.  

Seeing his smile, Old Master Fang couldn’t bring himself to scold him. Instead, he indulged him further. “Never mind whether your second uncle is happy or not. If he truly resents you and mistreats you in any way, tell me. I’ll summon him and give him a lesson. As long as I’m alive, I won’t let him bully you.”

This favoritism—if Lord Fang were present, he might cough up blood upon hearing his father’s words. But Old Master Fang, believing Fang Hanxiao’s words, thought he had truly decided to let bygones be bygones. Naturally, he spared no effort in coaxing him. As for Lord Fang, he was already in his fifties and an uncle besides—what harm was there in yielding to his nephew?  

Fang Hanxiao waved the note advising him to rest and recuperate before writing a few more words to explain his plans: *I’m going to handle the marriage certificate.*  

Old Master Fang hadn’t dared ask earlier how Fang Hanxiao now viewed the second branch of the family, fearing the question might drive him away again. Now, unexpectedly receiving such pleasant news, he was overjoyed. After reading the note, he nodded. “Very well. You may use any of my people for this task—choose whoever you think is suitable. Have the Xu family surrender the original marriage certificate, watch it be torn up before your eyes, and then draft a new one. Understood?”  

Fang Hanxiao nodded. Seeing Old Master Fang close his eyes to rest peacefully, he leaned over to tuck in the blanket corners before turning to leave.  

**  

Ying Yue and Fang Hui followed behind. Fang Hui, her little scheme unfulfilled, was somewhat sullen. Once outside, she tugged at Ying Yue’s sleeve. “Sister-in-law, let’s go back.”  

Deliberately avoiding any farewell to Fang Hanxiao, she made to leave. Ying Yue, unwilling to engage with him and unsure of what to say anyway, simply turned to follow.  

Fang Hanxiao paid them no mind, merely stepping out afterward. He needed to retrieve the betrothal card, engagement letter, and the recently drafted marriage certificate—documents related to the wedding. After his parents’ passing, all the first branch’s possessions had come into his hands. During his years away, Old Master Fang had managed them on his behalf. Upon his return, Old Master Fang, fearing his own impending death, had hurriedly handed everything over—including these items.  

He didn’t go to the Xu family himself. As noon approached, it was Mr. Zhou, a trusted advisor of Old Master Fang, who arrived at the Xu residence bearing these documents.  

Master Xu, as usual, was absent. Madam Xu received the visitor. Staring at the set of marriage documents tossed onto the table before her, she seemed dazed.  

She wondered if her ears were deceiving her—or perhaps, having gone sleepless all night, she had dozed off and slipped into a blissful dream of her own making.  

Otherwise, how could such good fortune exist?!  

Only four words could describe Madam Xu’s overwhelming sensation: *A blessing from heaven!*  

Mr. Zhou, ever polite, gently prompted her. “Madam Xu, Old Master Fang and our young master are awaiting a reply. Is there some difficulty?”  

Madam Xu pinched herself discreetly with a fingernail, using the pain to confirm this was no dream—and to suppress the surging joy within her. She dabbed at her dry eyes with a handkerchief. “Ah—I hardly know what to say! Old Master Fang is truly magnanimous, so understanding and forgiving. It’s just a pity our eldest daughter has no fortune, falling ill at such a time—”  

Mr. Zhou concealed his faint disdain and impatience expertly, smiling as Madam Xu expounded at length about her family’s helplessness and their desire to honor Old Master Fang’s wishes. When she finally paused, he reminded her, “Madam Xu, about the marriage certificate—?”  

“I’ll fetch it, I’ll fetch it!”

Madam Xu responded in rapid succession, standing up to go to the back and then swiftly returning, not even bothering to call a maid, personally carrying the items. Besides the old horoscope and marriage certificate, she had even prepared a new horoscope for Ying Yue.

Mr. Zhou understood at a glance—the Xu family had been scheming all along, but to maintain deception, they hadn’t presented these earlier. Without exposing them, he proceeded to exchange the items with Madam Xu one by one.

Madam Xu first retrieved Wangyue’s original horoscope, carefully storing it away, followed by the engagement letter, and then the marriage certificate. With each item returned, she felt a renewed sense of relief. By the time the marriage certificate was in her hands, she was practically invigorated, the exhaustion from a sleepless night completely vanishing. As she prepared to store it away, Mr. Zhou lightly stopped her with a smile, saying, “Madam, there’s no need to keep this, is there? Let’s each tear it in half—for peace of mind. If it were to fall into the wrong hands, it would only cause unnecessary trouble.”

Madam Xu would never let her daughter’s “shameful past” be exposed, but Mr. Zhou’s suggestion struck a chord with her. Tearing it up on the spot would be even better and more reassuring, wouldn’t it?

She quickly agreed, “Yes, let’s do as you say!”

With a rustling sound, she tore the marriage certificate to shreds.

Mr. Zhou, however, only tore his copy in half. Noticing Madam Xu’s glance, he amiably explained, “I still need to present this to Old Master Fang and the young master for their review.”

Madam Xu found everything he said reasonable and nodded again. “Of course, of course.”

Finally, Mr. Zhou handed Madam Xu the newly written marriage certificate bearing Ying Yue’s name, freshly penned by Fang Han Xiao.

Madam Xu scrutinized it intently. As a woman from a scholarly family, she recognized common characters. Confirming that it indeed read “Xu Ying Yue,” she felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, exhaling slowly.

She was about to express some formal pleasantries, but Mr. Zhou, having completed his task, was no longer interested in listening. He stood up, gave a slight bow, and took his leave.

Only then did Madam Xu realize something was amiss. Hesitantly, she asked, “Sir, some of our family members who escorted the bride still haven’t returned—do you know what might have happened?”

Mr. Zhou replied, “Given your family’s actions, Madam Hong was extremely displeased and ordered them detained. As for their current situation, I’m not privy to the details, as I work in the outer courtyard.”

Madam Xu was taken aback. “Madam Hong?”

Shouldn’t it have been Fang Han Xiao who did this? Why was Madam Hong putting on such a show of anger?

Mr. Zhou discerned her thoughts and smiled. “Our young master was certainly displeased, but he isn’t one to trouble himself with servants. Now that the deed is done, he hasn’t even said much to you, Madam. Why would he detain your family’s servants?”

Madam Xu considered this. It made sense—if Fang Han Xiao really wanted to make trouble, why would he send someone so quickly to exchange the crucial marriage certificate? It would be pointless to lose the watermelon and then fuss over a few sesame seeds.

Mr. Zhou bid farewell once more.

Madam Xu couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but the marriage certificate was the priority. A few servants could wait—she could always find a way to retrieve them later. Dismissing the thought, she hurriedly called for someone to escort Mr. Zhou out.

**

In the afternoon, the retrieved marriage certificate was handed to Fang Han Xiao.

Old Master Fang had woken at noon, taken his medicine, and drifted back to sleep. Fang Han Xiao sat in the side room on a small stool by the medicine stove, holding the torn marriage certificate and giving it a glance.

“May this bond last forever, a vow of white-haired devotion—”

His gaze swept over it carelessly, confirming it was correct, then he stuffed it into the stove—swift and without hesitation, just like how he had disposed of the scrap paper he used to communicate with Yingyue earlier.  

Then he glanced at the remaining sheet in his hand—Yingyue’s betrothal document.  

In terms of lineage, Yingyue wasn’t entirely blameless either. The blood running through her veins was the same as that of Xu Wangyue, who had betrayed him. Yet at the same time, the surname “Xu” she bore was also that of the late Minister Xu.  

Fang Hanxiao’s cold expression softened slightly. Besides, someone like Xu Yingyue—who couldn’t even pretend to be a chaste maiden by borrowing influence and instead needed him to vaguely cover for her in front of Old Master Fang—could hardly be lumped in the same category as Xu Wangyue.  

Once her usefulness was over, he’d arrange a suitable place for her.  

**Author’s Note:**  

Don’t complain that little Yingyue seems too naive right now—there’s a reason for it. If she were more scheming, the male lead would’ve lumped her together with Wangyue. Being a bit dull is better—it makes it impossible to group them together, ahem.  

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**Slapstick Mini Scene:**  

One day in the future, Yingyue learns the truth and is furious and hurt, packing a small bundle to leave.  

Fang Hanxiao (blocking her way): Where are you going?  

Yingyue: To the place that’s most *suitable* for me!  

Fang Hanxiao (tossing the bundle aside and pulling her into his arms): *This* is the most suitable place for you to stay.