noffsinger Chapter 401 Chang'an and Chang Huan
Chapter 401 Chang'an and Chang Huan
"Chang'an, from now on, he will be your sister Changhuan."
It's a good name, but he's not happy about it.
The pressure he faced from a young age made him unable to show his emotions, and he didn't even cry loudly when his mother passed away.
He could almost hear those horrifying people whispering behind his back that he was heartless.
There's none?
But there are some!
He hugged Qianqiu Changhuan and lifted her high, then gently placed her in the old woman's hands, unable to vent the depression in his heart.
"Father... Mother is not dead yet!"
His father clenched his fists, said nothing, and simply told someone to take him away from there immediately.
He was forcibly dragged away by the servants if he refused to leave. Later, he learned that his father had spent a day and a night in the delivery room where he had suffered a postpartum hemorrhage.
Normal production is not so easy to cause death, there must be something fishy going on here.
But he couldn't have thought of that much back then.
All his hatred was directed at Qianqiu Changhuan, and occasionally he would ask himself, what did she do wrong?
Her mistake was coming; her mistake was being a woman!
If it's a younger brother... he's really too selfish.
Humans are born selfish; in order to increase their survival rate, they cry desperately, disturbing their fathers and mothers.
Exhaust them so that they won't have a second child.
The next day, white silk was hung in the mansion in a grand procession, and the faces of those who came to pay their respects were filled with unclear emotions.
It was impossible to tell whether their grief was genuine or not; all that was known was that his maternal grandfather's side was crying terribly.
His father aged considerably overnight, and one could sense the turmoil in his spiritual sea and the instability of his magical power.
He knelt in the mourning hall, saying nothing, while his wet nurse held Qianqiu Changhuan beside him, who was crying loudly.
Was I this irritable before? Did I harbor endless hatred before?
He couldn't quite remember, but the present is the past, and the past is the present!
For the first time in a thousand years, he had been known as a refined gentleman, and he shouted: "Can you please be quiet?!"
The sound echoed throughout the mourning hall, startling everyone present.
Everyone felt that it was impossible for Qianqiu Chang'an to say such a thing, especially to a child who was still unaware of the world.
His eyes were filled with endless hatred. He stood up, straightened his sleeves, and walked up to Qianqiu Changhuan.
She knew nothing, she could do nothing, all she knew was to cry.
"Shut up!"
Upon hearing these two words, the wet nurses' eyes widened. Was this still the eldest son they knew?
“Young master, Miss Changhuan is your younger sister. She is still a child who knows nothing.”
Fearing that he might lose control of his temper, he vented his anger on Qianqiu Changhuan, and thus advised him from the side.
"I know, but it's precisely because he knows nothing that I hate her even more!"
He will never have another chance to get rid of the Qianqiu family. His mother is gone, and even if his father remarries, the children born will not be legitimate.
He had to shoulder the entire Qianqiu clan, but that was too much for him.
Why isn't there a younger brother? Why is there only one!
He gritted his teeth, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails had lost their color, and he frowned.
He slowly reached out his hand towards Qianqiu Changhuan, and for a moment, he wished that none of this existed.
If she doesn't exist, her mother will return; if she doesn't exist, he will still have hope of escaping the Qianqiu Clan!
"Young Master Chang'an! What are you doing!"
Qianqiu Chang'an's hand was already covering Qianqiu Changhuan's mouth, and the wet nurse was so frightened that she backed away repeatedly.
The wet nurse's shouts attracted his father and others, and he paused for a moment, somewhat at a loss.
Faced with everyone's accusations, he covered his head with his hands, squatted on the ground, and silently shed tears.
"Chang'an, he's just a child. He doesn't understand anything. He just cried a few times. What are you doing!"
"She's your own sister! What are you doing! You unfilial son!"
Qianqiu Changhuan was truly born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Although she didn't have her mother's protection, she was loved by everyone.
"I never expected Young Master Chang'an to be this kind of person. Isn't he always so gentle and refined?"
He curled up in a ball and sneered inwardly. What gentle and refined, what elegant gentleman, what composed and knowledgeable man!
That was just a label that Qianqiu imposed on him; they never asked him if he wanted it!
"Oh, look how sadly Miss Changhuan is crying. She must have felt her brother's malice, right?"
Qianqiu Chang'an stood up, shook his clothes, wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, and glared fiercely at his father.
But when he saw his father's tired eyes, he was still touched.
I can't quite describe the feeling. Does he really hate me?
"Chang'an, I think you must be tired. Someone, take Young Master Chang'an to rest."
My father's big hands are warm; when he rubs them back and forth on my head, I can feel his love overflowing.
His father loved him, that much is undeniable.
But where did this inexplicable hatred in his heart come from? He didn't actually want it.
But when that hatred erupted, he felt an extraordinary sense of relief.
"Don't let Young Master Chang'an get close to Miss Changhuan again."
As he was being led away by the servants, he heard his father say something like this from behind.
He doesn't believe him...
Perhaps he himself couldn't see it, but everyone else could see it—his hatred for Qianqiu Changhuan.
The door slammed shut, locking him in a pitch-black room with only light coming through the window.
“Father, if you had asked me one more question, perhaps all of this would have changed, and perhaps Changhuan could have taken on all of Qianqiu’s burdens.”
He muttered to himself, sat down at his desk, and wrote furiously, producing a long piece of several thousand words.
Every word he uttered revealed his true feelings; he did not want to be bound by the Qianqiu Clan.
Suddenly, a sound appeared in my ear, as if calling out.
He leaned over the desk, trying to hear clearly, but not quite: "Chang'an, I'll make a promise with you if you become Mu Jun's successor."
"Who is it? Who made an appointment with me?" Qianqiu Changhuan rubbed her eyes, but there was no sound in front of her.
But what does that sentence echoing in his mind mean? He can break away from the Qianqiu Clan; he is free, right?
"Can I? Will I become one?"
The room was empty, no one answered, and the sounds outside gradually faded into silence.
When the door was opened again, Qianqiu Changhuan was standing in his courtyard, holding a whip and scolding the servants.
She had grown up; she showed him no respect whatsoever, even calling him by his first name.
He loved his younger sister, but the hatred hidden in his heart could not be erased.
"Brother, can I have this one in your yard?"
"Fine, all of this is yours. The Qianqiu Clan is none of my business."
After he said that, his hatred dissipated.