Chapter 172: The Mudman's Secret

The mottled wooden door was pushed open by Xu Yanchuan, emitting a dull creak.

Inside the courtyard, weeds grew thick, with dead branches and fallen leaves piled in the corners, the corridor covered in a thick layer of dust, a scene of long‑abandoned decay and desolation.

Although this was once Xu Chengyuan's residence, it now resembled a delicate prison.

The two hurried across the barren courtyard and entered the inner yard.

Xu Yanchuan swiftly slammed the courtyard gate shut, cutting off any possible eyes from the outside.

The courtyard was somewhat tidy, yet it still could not conceal the deep‑seated loneliness.

The tender green of early spring struggled to peek through the weeds, only highlighting the surrounding chaos.

With all prying eyes blocked, the sister and brother finally could shed every disguise and meet each other's gaze.

The air seemed to solidify, suppressed emotions like a breached flood instantly overwhelmed the dam.

Xu Yanchuan's eyes reddened quickly, lips trembling uncontrollably; those eyes that were always full of scorn and malice now held only immense bitterness and incredulous fragility.

Their Adam's apple rolled several times before they painstakingly forced out the two heavy, scorching words between clenched teeth:

"Sister…"

Wan Tang's tears fell in response, but she restrained herself, merely nodding heavily, her voice choked: "This courtyard…"

"I arranged it personally; apart from me, no one can enter, nor listen in."

Xu Yanchuan hurriedly assured, his voice carrying a barely perceptible sob.

They looked at her, eyes full of guilt and unease, "I treated you that way before, spoke so harshly, sister, do you blame me?"

Wan Tang shook her head forcefully, tears sliding down.

Yet a profoundly gratified yet bitter smile appeared on her face: "No blame… how could I blame you?"

"On the contrary, I'm happy."

"My younger brother Chang grew up, knows how to endure, knows how to scheme."

"I previously feared you weren't mature enough; if we recklessly revealed ourselves, it would arouse the Emperor's suspicion and harm you…"

Xu Yanchuan inhaled sharply, raised a hand crudely to wipe the moisture from the corner of their eye, eyes once again steely: "The great vengeance remains unavenged, the Xu Family's grievance unsolved; how could I act rashly?"

They gazed at Wan Tang, eyes full of concern, "Sister, being by the Emperor's side, navigating among them, must be exhausting, right?"

Wan Tang curved her lips bitterly: "The Emperor treats me well."

She paused, lowering her voice further, with deep warning, "But the saint's heart is inscrutable, the ruler's favor like water; we must remain exceedingly cautious."

"Now the Emperor favors me only because I am a solitary girl with no support and no threat to him."

"Remember to be careful; under any circumstance, never reveal your identity."

Wan Tang reiterated solemnly, "Regardless of whom the Emperor ultimately favors, the Tiger Tally in Xu Chengyuan's hand must, and can only, fall into your hands."

"I understand."

Xu Yanchuan nodded solemnly, eyes sharp, "The Emperor has kept Xu Chengyuan alive so far, perhaps also because he fears harming a mouse with a valuable instrument."

"Sister, rest assured."

Having said that, they hesitantly looked toward the tightly shut inner door and whispered, "Do you still want to go in and see him?"

"I am certain," Wan Tang said, her gaze steadfast.

Xu Yanchuan ceased urging, stepped forward and pushed open the heavy door.

Inside, the light was dim, suffused with a stale odor.

Xu Chengyuan faced away from the doorway, seated on an old chair, hair already white and disheveled, his back hunched and desolate.

Upon hearing the door open, they did not turn their head, merely letting out an extremely mocking cold laugh, voice hoarse and full of hatred:

"Dog mongrel, get out!"

"I don't want to see you, traitorous son!"

Wan Tang stood in the dim doorway, backlit, her silhouette appearing especially cold.

She listened to the unbearable curses inside, the corner of her mouth curling a cold arc: "Father finally admits he's just a dog?"

The voice, like a poisoned ice needle, instantly pierced Xu Chengyuan's fury.

His tirade abruptly halted, he snapped his head around, his murky eyes fixed on the figure at the doorway, almost seeming to bleed.

When he recognized Wan Tang, the muscles on his face twisted with extreme hatred, a low growl forced from his teeth:

"It's you, wretched one!"

"You have brought the Xu Family to such a state, yet you still dare step in here?!"

Facing his towering rage, Wan Tang merely sneered, stepping further into the room.

Dust and rot permeated the air: "Is it my doing?"

"Father, why never consider who originally betrayed mother?"

"And who, when mother begged desperately, did not rescue her?"

Her gaze was like a knife, piercing Xu Chengyuan's deepest hidden fear: "I never believed that when Wang Jingyi acted against mother, you would be completely unaware!"

A flash of panic flickered through Xu Chengyuan's eyes, but was quickly replaced by forced composure and murkiness.

Their gaze darted, daring not to meet Wan Tang's eyes.

Their voice, hoarse, defended: "How can this be entirely my fault?!"

"At first my foundation was unstable, and I also wanted to bring you over for a better life..."

He seemed to fall into some memory, his tone tinged with a hint of self‑pity: "Later, after hard‑won ability, I wanted to protect you."

"But Wang Jingyi, that poisonous woman, she seized my leverage!"

Mentioning this, anger flared in his eyes, turning into resentment toward the departed, a low roar:

"Come to think of it, your mother was useless!"

"For something so important to oneself, why not protect it well?"

What a fool! It ended up in Wang Jingyi's hands, letting her learn the secret and become a tool to blackmail me.

All these years, have I been so easily toyed with by the Wang family?

Wan Tang looked at that selfish, despicable face, and only disgust remained in her heart; no matter how he tried to gloss it over, his nature never changed.

She was too lazy to listen to his nonsense any longer and coldly interrupted, "That leverage—was it a clay figurine?"

Xu Chengyuan snapped his head up, looking at her with startled doubt, then sneered, "What? The thing fell into your hands?"

"No," Wan Tang said coldly. Since this thing could manipulate him, she need not conceal it: "It fell into the Empress's hand."

"What?!"

Xu Chengyuan seemed struck by lightning, his body trembling uncontrollably, the color draining from his face as overwhelming terror seized him.

He was first in disbelief, then let out a few broken, frantic laughs, "Hahaha! Retribution!"

"This is Heaven's Retribution for you two wayward children!"

Wan Tang no longer wasted words with him, and forced him to reveal the truth by the most effective means.

"Death, or rather…"

Under her cold gaze and the pressing situation, Xu Chengyuan finally broke down.

He said hoarsely, "That clay figurine contains the true lineage of your mother, as well as some of the truth about the Duke Rong case."

He gasped heavily, his eyes giving Wan Tang a complicated glance.

His tone, unusually, carried a hint of something different: "To be honest, your mother matched me; I was the one overreaching."

"She was originally the Princess Anhe personally appointed by the Late Emperor, but after Duke Rong betrayed the nation and his entire clan was executed, she narrowly escaped and was saved by me…"

Wan Tang felt as if struck hard, stepping back a half-step in shock, barely able to digest this sudden mystery of her lineage.

Xu Chengyuan, however, seemed to have exhausted all his strength, slumping in his chair and glaring at her viciously, "Think carefully for yourself!"

"If the Empress uncovers her identity, we'll all have to die together!"

Wan Tang staggered out of the suffocating courtyard.

When she returned to the palace, her fingertips were still icy, trembling uncontrollably.

Yet, the moment she stepped into the Changle Palace gate and lifted her gaze, the blood in her body nearly froze.

Chu Yunzheng was leisurely seated on her throne, idly twirling in his hand a small, intimately familiar clay figurine.

It was precisely the clay figurine that had fallen into the Empress's hand.