After the ghost-hunting master descended the mountain, his fame spread throughout the capital.

There was a moment of silence in the hall before Chu Mingzhu slowly spoke, her voice revealing little emotion:

"It's easy to dodge a spear in the open, but hard to guard against an arrow in the dark. He has endless tricks up his sleeve, and he's ruthless and vicious. This was not your intention."

She paused, then looked up at Xie Dai, who was still kneeling, her tone even carrying a hint of comfort:

"It's alright, I don't blame you. This was all a scheme aimed at our marriage."

She turned her head slightly to avoid his overly intense gaze, her voice lowered, tinged with a hint of difficulty, yet she tried her best to remain calm:

"If...if you truly feel any pity for that Miss Bisheng, or if you feel that this matter will ultimately damage her reputation and you need to give her an explanation, I can agree to let her enter the household as a concubine. After all, she has no choice in the matter, and after it is done, she will probably find it difficult to..."

"Oh."

A self-deprecating and bitter laugh escaped Xie Dai's lips, interrupting her profound words.

Xie Dai slowly stood up, his gaze fixed on Chu Mingzhu's excessively calm face.

That calm was like a cold knife, piercing his heart and drawing blood, and also piercing through all his forced composure.

Xie Dai forced a smile, revealing a smile that was more like a grimace:

"I should have known. How could you possibly mind? You don't like him, and... you've never liked me."

His gaze seemed to penetrate to the deepest part of her heart: "You agreed to marry me only because I was the only straw you could grasp to escape your cage at that time."

"It's a compromise, a helpless situation, a refuge when there's no other choice, but... it's not mutual affection, right?"

Chu Mingzhu trembled at the intense pain and disappointment in his eyes and subconsciously bit her lower lip.

She desperately wanted to explain, to say that wasn't true, but her throat felt blocked by something; a thousand words welled up at her lips, but in the end, they only turned into a trembling whisper:

"Xie Dai, I..."

"It's okay." Xie Dai interrupted her again, his voice lowered and hoarse, but he still looked stubbornly into her eyes, "Really, it's okay, Chu."

"I am still very fortunate, fortunate that I have the ability to help you, fortunate that I can marry you, even though you have no romantic feelings for me. Being able to protect you and get you away from that beast is already a blessing from heaven."

He took a step forward, getting closer, close enough to see her trembling eyelashes, his tone carrying a hint of pleading:

"But Ah Chu, next time, please don't so easily suggest that I take a concubine, okay?"

"Besides you, I, Xie Dai, will never marry any other woman in my life, whether as a wife or a concubine, whether out of duty, pity, or any other reason."

"My heart is small. From the moment we first met on the hunting grounds three years ago, it has only been able to hold one person. It was then, it is now, and it will always be so until the end of my life."

"You don't need to be generous or understanding, and you don't need to consider these things for me. You just need to know that you are my wife. That's enough."

After he finished speaking, Chu Mingzhu stood there in a daze, looking at his pleading eyes.

She slowly raised her hand and pressed it against her chest.

A sharp, acrid feeling suddenly came from there, as if Xie Dai's last words had injected something strange and scalding, burning her eyes.

Chu Mingzhu couldn't help but raise her hand and gently stroke his cheek. Her lips moved slightly, and her throat tightened. "...Okay."

As the scenes of his memory unfolded, Xie Dai returned to the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion, but did not wallow in defeat.

Today's events were like a wake-up call, making him realize that Chu Yan's madness and ruthlessness far exceeded his imagination.

The other side is no longer satisfied with suppressing the government and has begun to use more insidious and despicable tricks, possibly even involving esoteric methods that are difficult to deal with by ordinary force.

Open attacks and hidden attacks are both difficult to defend against.

One fall is enough.

He went straight into the study, dismissed the servants, and began searching through all the books and notes in the mansion that might be related to esoteric arts, strange tales, and unusual events.

The Xie family had been a military family for generations, so they shouldn't have had these things, but he vaguely remembered that his grandfather seemed to be quite interested in some mysterious things in his later years.

He patiently flipped through and searched through the volumes and books one by one.

Finally, beneath a pile of dusty military and geographical books, a thick notebook wrapped in special leather was unexpectedly unearthed.

Turning to the title page, my grandfather's strong handwriting came into view.

As Xie Dai read on, a look of astonishment gradually appeared in his eyes.

The notes do not record military formations, but rather many insights and experiments on talismans, formations, and the circulation of spiritual energy.

The notes mention that Xie Dai's grandmother actually came from a small, long-declining sect of Taoism.

Although she stopped practicing Buddhism after marrying into a military family, she left some basic knowledge and a few ancient books that she always carried with her to the Xie family.

In his later years, my grandfather missed his deceased wife and began to study the things she left behind, which led to this notebook.

For Xie Dai at this moment, it was like a miraculous escape from a desperate situation.

He was overjoyed and immediately became engrossed in it.

Xie Dai was naturally intelligent, highly perceptive, and determined. Although he had no spiritual power, he began to try to draw the simplest talismans by relying on the detailed graphic annotations in his notes and his grandfather's practical experience.

He began to understand the terminology and tried to sense the spiritual energy mentioned in the notes.

Memories flowed again, and the scene became oppressive and heavy.

Deep within the palace, in the emperor's sleeping quarters.

A rich aroma of medicinal stones permeated the air, mixed with a decaying scent that even ambergris could not mask.

Heavy curtains hung low, blocking out most of the light from outside, leaving only a few palace lanterns burning eternally, casting a dim yellow glow in the corners.

The late emperor's once majestic and full face is now withered like fallen leaves in late autumn, with sunken eye sockets and high cheekbones.

Only those eyes, when occasionally opened, still retained the sharp glint of an emperor.

But that light is now shrouded in a layer of gray and gloomy gloom, like a candle flame about to burn out.

He summoned Princess Chu Mingzhu and Xie Dai, who was now the Duke of Zhenguo, to his bedside.

They dismissed all the palace servants and eunuchs, leaving only the three of them in the hall, along with the howling wind outside the window.

The late emperor's gaze first fell on Chu Mingzhu, his expression extremely complex, containing both pity and guilt.

After a long silence, he spoke with difficulty, his voice hoarse: "My child, in my life, I have lived up to the country, to the people, and to my ancestors... but I have failed you."

Chu Mingzhu knelt on the cold, icy gold brick floor, her back ramrod straight, like a green bamboo that had been broken by wind and snow but refused to fall completely.

Upon hearing the late emperor's words, she did not weep and say "Father, please don't say that" like ordinary children, nor did she show any sadness or distress.

Her eyes held only indifference.

She couldn't bring herself to say it was okay, because it really was.

Chu Mingzhu's silence was more painful to the late emperor than any crying or questioning.

The late emperor seemed to understand something from her reaction, and he slowly spoke, revealing the secret that had been buried for over twenty years:

"I know you harbor resentment and hatred, and perhaps... you have long since disowned me as your father."

He was panting, speaking slowly but each word like a hammer blow, striking the heart: "But I still have to tell you, because, for you, perhaps... it is another kind of relief."

"You are actually... not my biological daughter."