Ten years ago, the Taiping Duke died. That was also when Li Guanyi and his Aunt Murong Qiushui began to flee.
Thirteen years prior was when Li Guanyi was born.
These two moments were crucial. Li Guanyi, considering what his aunt had said about being wary of the Chen Kingdom Royal Family, felt he could guess the result, but it still wasn’t clear enough. He gently brushed over these two lines of text.
Was it the child of the Emperor who had abdicated to the Regent King thirteen years ago?
Was he being hunted because his inheritance of the throne was feared?
Or was it related to the Regent King?
Descendants of the Regent King’s line, thus unwelcome at the current Court of Chen.
Or perhaps, a descendant of the Taiping Duke.
Because he was too powerful and threatened the ruler, the Taiping Duke met with disaster ten years ago. Afterwards, he delayed the assassins, allowing his aunt to escape with him.
All three possibilities were likely.
However, considering what the Mo School assassin had said about the Regent King, Li Guanyi could be sure that the attempt on his and his aunt’s lives was inextricably linked to the Regent King, and the number ten years, he might also be deeply connected to the Taiping Duke.
Li Guanyi, holding several books, got up and walked out.
Li Guanyi wanted to ask his aunt. He stood at the door of Murong Qiushui’s room, raised his hand, and knocked. There was no response from inside. Instead, the door slightly opened from the knocking. His aunt, who had raised him since he was little like a sister or a mother, had no guard against him.
Li Guanyi saw Murong Qiushui lying on her side, asleep.
Li Guanyi calmed down, feeling that his supposed origin had affected him. Seeing his aunt sleeping on her side, dressed in her undergarments, with the blanket kicked off, he sighed. The youth felt helpless towards this only relative of his, who was like a sister or a mother. He went in and covered Murong Qiushui with the blanket.
"Such a big person, and still I, who am younger, have to take care of you."
Li Guanyi murmured softly.
Murong Qiushui was deep in sleep.
When he was young, his aunt took care of him. Later, when her chronic illness flared up, it was he who took care of his aunt.
Li Guanyi stood in front of Murong Qiushui, holding a scroll in his hand. She was sleeping peacefully, breathing evenly. The youth initially wanted to use the information he knew to ask some questions and pry some answers, but upon reaching this point, suddenly felt that there was no need to ask anything. Li Guanyi’s expression softened.
He thought how ridiculous he had been for being obsessed with these things.
What does it matter if he is a descendant of the Taiping Duke or the previous royal child?
Even being a descendant of the Regent King isn’t a big deal!
In this chaotic world, it was his aunt who had been helping him survive. Without her, Li Guanyi would have been reduced to mincemeat under the hooves of the Night Rider Cavalry long ago. That child of nobility would have died in the chaos ten years earlier.
It was Murong Qiushui who saved Li Guanyi from beneath the iron hooves.
Anyway, whatever his origin, as long as it’s linked even slightly to those three, it’s a status not tolerated by the Chen Kingdom Royal Family. But with the current state of the world, as long as he remains unassuming, the Emperor of Chen has no interest in dealing with him, a child without the capacity to provoke any strife.
Knowing this is enough.
The identities of past people should not affect his life. Everyone has their own sense of who they are. Li Guanyi placed the scrolls on the table and sighed, saying, "So that’s how it is."
"It’s me who was affected. It doesn’t matter whose son I am."
"The kindness of giving life is hard to repay. I don’t plan to enter the Court of Chen. Now, all I have is the kindness to nourish."
"Li Guanyi is just his aunt’s nephew, that’s all."
The youth spoke softly to himself, lightening his steps as he walked out. Murong Qiushui lay sidelong, still asleep, but her eyes were open. Li Guanyi let go of his so-called obsession, then tossed the scrolls, those unofficial historians’ records, onto his bed, where they fluttered down.
The young man held the sword at his waist, his expression serene.
Likewise, the court historians strove to craft various legendary aspects around this impoverished young man.
Yet, for this particular scene, they documented it honestly.
Saying that on the day he discovered his past identity, the then struggling youth cleaved through the documents and his past without being bound by former days; he possessed the demeanor of a heroic figure, much like the emperor who, eight hundred years earlier, had slain a white serpent with his sword and seized the empire.
But Li Guanyi was very honest, saying that at that time, he just felt that he had exhausted himself finding some trivial matters, so he had flung them out in annoyance.
The scrolls weren’t smashed.
They belonged to the Xue Family’s collection. Had he smashed them, the old master would probably have scolded fiercely, and he might have had to copy books personally—a task that would have made his wrists ache from writing so many characters.
"That day I knew there was no need to seek those things. My aunt didn’t care."
"She hid the past because she feared that the flames of vengeance might rise in my heart."
"If she had wished for me to seek revenge, I would have known from my childhood who my father was, who my enemies were. I would have practiced swordplay daily, not the lute, and there wouldn’t be days of running up and down the main road wearing worn sandals, carrying a wooden stick."
"Nor would there be arguments over for whom the roast goose was bought."
"I would have been a fire in these troubled times, flaring across the world, only to quickly extinguish."