Chapter 205: Descendants of the Mo Family

"I didn't expect the old general to still be here," Wan Tang chuckled lightly.

Huang Hu heard the words and let out a cold laugh like a great bell, shaking the courtyard leaves into a rustling.

"If the old man were not here, how could he see through your exquisite scheme!"

Before his words finished, the towering figure plunged down from the wallhead.

He did not fall straight to the ground; like a tiger pouncing on prey, he surged with a force of a thousand pounds, charging straight at Wan Tang surrounded by guards.

"Protect the Master!" the shopkeeper barked sharply, the courtyard guards instantly drew their swords, cold glints flashing, forming a formation to meet him.

However, Huang Hu was a veteran of the battlefield, his martial skill forged in seas of corpses and blood, fierce and unmatched.

He did not entangle the guards at all; his palms slammed out, a mighty wind shaking the two front guards, swords and bodies alike, causing them to stagger and retreat.

His target clear, his body moved like lightning; in an instant he tore a gap, his large hand, five fingers spread like a fan, hooked straight for Wan Tang's throat!

"Your Highness, such deep scheming."

"Using wine as bait, military strategy as a hook, to ensnare court officials and spy on military secrets."

"What exactly do you intend to do?!"

Huang Hu's voice thundered, his eyes filled with icy murderous intent and the anger of being deceived, "Today I will capture you, this demon concubine, for Your Majesty!"

His fingertips, bearing a fierce wind, are already imminent!

Wan Tang's pupils contracted sharply; she never imagined Huang Hu would return and be this formidable.

She hurriedly stepped back, but could not outrun that death‑seeking palm.

Wan Tang was horrified; in a flash of lightning she thought of one idea.

A great general whom Your Majesty relies on as a pillar and rides the battlefield is indeed extraordinary!

"General Huang, disturbing the women late at night is not a gentleman's conduct, is it?"

A clear yet undeniably authoritative young male voice suddenly rang out.

At the same time, a dark‑blue figure slipped out from the shadows of the Langxia like a phantom.

Moving so fast that only a after‑image remained, he instantly cut between Huang Hu and Wan Tang!

The newcomer stood tall and handsome; it was the Deputy Commander of the Capital Garrison, Xu Yanchuan!

He did not draw a sword, but used his bare hands, curling his fingers into claws.

He struck with pinpoint accuracy at Huang Hu's injured, numb wrist, the angle sharp, the force contained within.

Though startled, Huang Hu remained unshaken; his combat instinct was ingrained to the bone.

He let out a cold snort, neither dodging nor yielding; the wounded arm suddenly sank and quivered, muscles tensed, forcefully breaking Xu Yanchuan's grip.

His other palm, bearing a whistling wind, slashed straight at Xu Yanchuan's face.

The force was massive and heavy, a technique that would wound both parties!

Xu Yanchuan's gaze hardened, as if he had anticipated the opponent's ferocity.

His body moved like willow fluff in the wind, deftly sidestepping to release the force.

At the same time, his footwork chained together, instantly closing in on Huang Hu's midsection.

His fingertips, like electricity, tapped several major acupoints on Huang Hu's arm and shoulder, attempting to break his force with skill and block his movements.

"Hmph! The junior has some skill!" Huang Hu exhaled and spoke.

His internal energy erupted explosively, shaking Xu Yanchuan's fingertips numb, the acupoint strikes failing to work completely.

He launched both fists together, like twin dragons leaping into the sea; the fist wind was fierce and domineering, enveloping Xu Yanchuan's vital points.

Each punch contained the brutal will of a blood‑soaked battlefield, forcing Xu Yanchuan to temporarily evade the onslaught, using exquisite footwork to circle.

Inside the courtyard, figures flipped and flew, fists and palms interlaced, gusts of wind surged, making faces sting.

For a moment, the fight was evenly matched, hard to determine a winner.

Under the heavy protection of the guards, Wan Tang watched the thrilling combat, her palms once again sweating cold.

She knew that although Xu Yanchuan was young, he was already a top master, yet the veteran Huang Hu's ferocity and experience on the battlefield were clearly superior.

After prolonged fighting, Xu Yanchuan would inevitably be at a disadvantage.

【Xiao Chuan actually came? Ah, didn't Wan Tang repeatedly warn that no matter what happens, she must not step forward to save him? Moreover, this is such a hidden place.】

【What's there to fear, this person is Huang Hu, not anyone else.】

【Yeah, if Huang Hu learns your true identity, knows they are the Duke's children, he would help them without hesitation.】

【After all, all these years Huang Hu has been guarding the frontier, just to protect the Mo Family Army!】

Wan Tang's heart raced, the amount of information overwhelming.

Wan Tang's clear voice suddenly rang out, piercing the fierce wind of the fight: "Brother, cease! You must not be disrespectful to General Huang!"

Hearing the voice, Xu Yanchuan, who had been grappling with Huang Hu, froze abruptly, his eyes flashing with great shock and confusion.

But he seemed to instinctively obey Wan Tang's command, forcibly halting his attack, pointing his toe, retreating several swift steps, and landing back beside Wan Tang.

His brows knit tightly, his gaze urgently turned to Wan Tang, full of questions.

"How could sister expose their relationship in front of this person?"

Huang Hu was equally shocked.

When he heard the word "brother," his attack also halted; after Xu Yanchuan stepped back, he did not pursue, merely standing firm.

His tiger‑like eyes widened, looking at Xu Yanchuan with startled doubt, then abruptly turning to Wan Tang: "What do you call him?" "He... isn't he the son of Xu Chengyuan?"

"Aren't you an orphan? How could you be..."

His gaze swept back and forth between the two similar brows, a incredulous thought surfacing.

At the same time, a strong sense of danger arose.

Wan Tang inhaled deeply, maintaining a calm face, while her heart roiled like stormy seas.

She stepped forward, gave Huang Hu a slight bow, her tone carrying a barely perceptible earnestness and solemnity: "General, you have not mistaken; Yanchuan is indeed a son of the Xu family."

The reasons are convoluted; they cannot be clarified in a few words.

This place is not for conversation; may I ask the old General to temporarily quell his thunderous anger, step into the inner chamber, and allow me to explain in detail?

She lifted her head, her gaze calm yet heavy as she met Huang Hu's scrutinizing stare: "This matter concerns the Xu Family's secrets, and perhaps also some doubts in the old General's heart."

"Please, old General, see it through."

The door shut tightly, and the candlelight inside flickered.

Wan Tang was the first to look at Xu Yanchuan, her tone tinged with fear and reproach: "Still so impulsive!"

"How many times have I said, even if I die before you, I must never act and expose it!"

Xu Yanchuan turned his head aside, his jaw clenched, his voice rigid: "I cannot do it."

Wan Tang stared at him, the reproach in her eyes fading, turning into a trace of helplessness and hidden relief, finally becoming a soft sigh.

She grasped Xu Yanchuan's hand, turned, and together knelt slowly before the startled and uncertain Huang Hu.

Huang Hu instantly grew uneasy: "What does this mean?!"

Wan Tang looked up, her gaze clear and firm, each word precise: "Grandson of the Mo Family, Xu Yanchuan; granddaughter, Wan Tang, pay our respects to Grandpa Huang."

"What?!"

Huang Hu, as if struck by lightning, sprang violently from his chair, his towering frame shaking violently, and he staggered.

His eyes widened, fixed intently on the two kneeling figures, his lips trembling, his fingers shaking as they pointed at them:

"Mo, Mo Family?! You are… Zhi Lan's children?!"

His voice was hoarse, filled with incredulous shock and great excitement.

After the excitement, a huge doubt surged instantly in Huang Hu's mind.

He furrowed his brows tightly, his gaze sharp as a blade, scanning back and forth between Wan Tang and Xu Yanchuan.

"But based on a single statement, how can I, this old man, believe you?"

His voice deepened, bearing the caution and suspicion of a veteran battlefield general, especially toward Xu Yanchuan.

"He! He is clearly the son of Xu Chengyuan, a member of the Wang family faction!"

"He is the enemy who climbed up on the corpses of our Mo Family Army; how could he be of Mo Family blood?!"

"Old General," Wan Tang faced his doubtful gaze, her voice calm yet firm, "Yanchuan is indeed my biological younger brother; we are both grandsons of the Mo Family. This is absolutely certain."

"Evidence!" Huang Hu growled low, his chest rising and falling, "Produce the evidence! Otherwise, don't blame this old man for disregarding propriety!"

Wan Tang fell silent for a moment, a flash of bewilderment and sorrow passing through her eyes.

She shook her head gently: "I… don't know how to prove it."

"Since that day, my mother and I have been trapped in a tiny space; even my mother's name I only learned from you today."

She paused, then extended her hand: "May I borrow paper and a brush?"

The shopkeeper immediately presented them. Wan Tang took the brush, closed her eyes to concentrate for a moment, then smoothly sketched on the paper.

In a few strokes, a lifelike little paper figure, as if about to sway in the wind, leapt onto the paper.

Its form was extraordinarily lively, with a unique brushstroke charm in the details.

She gently pushed the drawing toward Huang Hu, a faint uncertain glimmer in her eyes: "I only know that my mother regarded this as her life, never parting with it, often shedding tears over it."

"She taught me to draw it countless times, saying… this is the 'Root'."

Huang Hu's gaze fixed on the paper figure, as if nailed.

His sturdy fingers trembled as they brushed the ink, his Adam's apple throbbed, and his tiger eyes instantly filled with watery light.

No further words are needed.

This unique paper figure is ironclad evidence!

He jerked his head up, looking at Wan Tang, his voice choked and broken: "It is her… it really is her… child…"

Huang Hu's gaze clung to the paper figure, as if its soul had been captured.

His rough fingers trembled, barely brushing the paper, his voice hoarse and off‑key:

"It… it is this… indeed… when I sent your mother away back then, this clay figure… I personally… slipped into her arms…"

A massive wave of sorrow and memories surged, yet a lingering caution after many storms still lingered deep in his eyes.

"That slip of paper… what does it say? Your mother… did she leave any words?"

Wan Tang's face turned bitter, she took the transcribed slip from her bosom and handed it over.

A low, hoarse voice: "Wan Tang is incompetent, unable even to protect her mother's sole relic."

"The original has fallen into the Empress's hands; this is merely a copy."

Huang Hu snatched it eagerly, his eyes scanning the words, his body jolted sharply, and he could no longer stand.

Old tears streamed wildly along his deep wrinkles: "It truly is what I wrote, indeed. I feared she would forget, so I let her keep it on her at all times."

"If there are descendants, let them bring this item to find me."

Wan Tang inhaled deeply, continuing to describe her mother's appearance in memory, those hidden, vague yet warm details.

"No wonder… no wonder the first time I saw you…"

Huang Hu choked, his tear‑filled eyes blurred as he looked at Wan Tang, "I just felt your eyes were familiar; turns out you're not like that woman."

"It's like your mother… like Zhi Lan!"

He seized Wan Tang's arm abruptly, as if clutching a lifeline, his tone urgent and hopeful.

With the particular concern of an elder: "Is she well now?"

"Where is she?"

"Tell Grandpa Huang, I'll go fetch her right away!"

"I will never let her suffer even a bit more!"

The room fell into a dead silence.

Wan Tang and Xu Yanchuan both lowered their heads heavily.

Wan Tang's fists were clenched tightly inside her sleeves, her nails sunk deep into her palms.

She lifted her head, her eyes filled with a crimson grief and icy hatred, every word crushing out between her teeth:

"Mother… she… is dead."