Seated on the couch were a man and a woman, both around thirty years old, dressed in luxurious clothing. The woman’s hair was styled in a cloud-like bun, her face round as a full moon, heavily powdered, with a red brocade draped over her shoulders. She wore a white cross-collared, wide-sleeved blouse on top, and a red floor-length skirt cinched at the chest. A portion of her fair, delicate chest was half-exposed, yet her expression was cold and indifferent, looking at him with a disdainful gaze that didn’t even rise to the level of hostility. William was an illegitimate child, not even worth her enmity. She was William’s legitimate mother, surnamed Zheng.

Beside her, the man wore a golden crown and a loose silk Buddhist robe. He was tall and imposing, with fair skin, a long, thin face, and a beautifully trimmed beard beneath his chin. His slender eyes were bright and piercing, giving an impression of strength without losing a sense of shrewd capability.

He was studying William with a complicated expression. William immediately guessed that this must be his biological father. A sudden surge of intense curiosity rose in William’s heart—who in history was this man?

Volume One: A Son Grows Up in the Yang Family

Chapter Two: Words Carry Weight

Mrs. Walker gave William a cold look, then suddenly frowned and asked her husband, “Why did Dalang lie to me?”

The man was startled and gave a couple of awkward laughs. “How would I dare lie to you, my lady?”

Mrs. Walker’s almond-shaped eyes widened in anger as she glared at her husband. “You said that three years ago, you were stranded and couldn’t return home, so you had an affair, resulting in a ten-month pregnancy. That would make this child at most three years old. But does he look three to you? He’s clearly already five! If you’re not lying to me, then what are you doing?”

“My lady, well… he was just very big at birth, just like I was as a child. You can’t judge by appearances. Here’s his household registration, see for yourself!”

The man seemed somewhat afraid of his wife, fumbling as he handed over the household register. Mrs. Walker snorted, snatched it away, but didn’t look at it. She coldly asked William, “What’s your name? Why didn’t you kneel when you saw me?”

From the moment he entered, William disliked this family. Though it was a grand and wealthy household, it was nothing compared to the care and affection his uncle and aunt had shown him. This woman didn’t treat him like a three-year-old at all. Three was just his nominal age; in reality, he was only two and should have been held and cherished in someone’s arms. Yet she actually questioned why he didn’t kneel?

William felt indignant. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and began to wail loudly. Since he was supposed to be three, he might as well act like a three-year-old.

His loud crying irritated Mrs. Walker, making her restless and agitated. If it weren’t for the old master’s insistence on bringing this illegitimate child here, she would never have let him set foot in her home. She could bear it no longer and angrily shouted, “Shut up!”

William stopped crying and stared blankly at his father, as if to say, ‘Aren’t you supposed to be the head of the household?’

After all, this was his own son. The man couldn’t help but feel a pang of compassion. He thought of Pan Niang’s deep affection for him, her untimely death from illness, and how she had left only this child behind. His heart filled with sorrow, and his eyes softened.

“Yuniang, the child is only three. You’ll frighten him.”

“Hmph! Your own sin, you deal with it yourself. What does it have to do with me?”

There was not a trace of pity in Mrs. Walker’s eyes. She stared at William like a hawk eyeing a tender lamb, and said viciously, “I’ll ask you one more time—are you going to kneel or not?”

William was enraged. At worst, he could just go back to his uncle and aunt. He clenched his little fists and met her gaze fearlessly. “I just won’t kneel to you!”

The man was also angered by his attitude. The brief moment of fatherly tenderness vanished without a trace. He slammed the table heavily. “You little bastard, how dare you be so rude!”

At that moment, William heard a cold voice from behind him. “Are you here to see your son, or to interrogate a criminal?”

The maids on both sides quickly retreated. The couple, startled, stood up. “Father, why are you here?”

William turned around and saw a tall, middle-aged man standing behind him with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked about fifty, with a high nose bridge, thin lips, and sharp, eagle-like eyes. He wore a purple long robe and a jade belt at his waist. Though he was merely standing there, an aura of authority seemed to fill the entire room.

He glanced at William, his gaze softening slightly, but when his eyes shifted to his son, they turned icy again. He snorted in displeasure and said to the man, “Philip, what did I tell you?”

‘Philip?’ William’s mind raced. Suddenly, he realized who his father was. Philip Harris, a famous figure from the Sui dynasty. That meant his father—his own grandfather, the elder behind him—was none other than the renowned Sui dynasty statesman—Thomas Harris.

When William was young, he had been enthralled by the long storytelling sessions of “The Romance of Sui and Tang.” In the book, Thomas Harris was also one of the great villains. He remembered vividly how, on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, Thomas Harris celebrated his birthday, drawing heroes to the capital for the lantern festival, and how his concubine, Red Whisk, eloped with Li Jing that night. Now, it turned out his grandfather was actually Thomas Harris.

This middle-aged man was none other than Duke of Yue, Thomas Harris. However, his peak of power came after John Harris ascended the throne. Now, having rendered great service in pacifying the Chen dynasty, he served as Minister of the Interior. In the Tang dynasty, this position was renamed Chancellor, one of the highest ministers of the court, jointly overseeing state affairs with Left Prime Minister Gao Jiong and Right Prime Minister Su Wei. He was currently at the height of imperial favor.