As the horsewhip lashed toward his face, the burly man in embroidered robes, Qiao Tai, widened his eyes in shock.
He hadn't expected it.
The usually mild-tempered and accommodating Wei Tu, known for his patience within the Dan Family Stronghold, had, in an instant, struck with such ruthlessness.
He had miscalculated.
A sense of urgency surged within Qiao Tai’s mind. He swallowed, forcing down his fear of Wei Tu.
Pivoting his body, he extended his right hand, attempting to catch the whip’s tip mid-air.
He was a martial artist himself. Though he didn’t consider himself Wei Tu’s equal, he was confident that he could at least grasp the whip and avoid taking a direct hit.
But—
The very next mont.
Qiao Tai’s pupils shrank as he watched the whip’s tip twist like a phantom, effortlessly bypassing his reaching hand and striking directly onto his right cheek.
A sharp, searing pain spread instantly.
A burning sensation overtook the side of his face, followed by a prickling itch as warm liquid began to seep from the torn skin.
Then ca the sound—
The explosive snap of the whip cutting through the air, following only after the pain had already struck.
But what terrified Qiao Tai even more—
Only his left ear heard the sound.
His right ear was eerily silent.
No… my ear isn't just ringing. The eardrum—it's been ruptured!
A shiver ran down his spine.
Qiao Tai hesitantly touched the outer rim of his aching right ear. When he pulled his hand back—
His fingertips were streaked with blood.
Horror flashed through his eyes as realization dawned upon him.
"Qiao Xiong, do you still intend to stand in my way?"
Wei Tu's gaze bore into him, his voice calm yet ice-cold.
His previous whip strike had already inflicted a minor wound, but despite this—
Qiao Tai showed no sign of moving aside.
He still blocked the doorway firmly, as if determined to hold his ground.
Seeing this, Wei Tu imdiately understood.
Dan Fang and Qiao Tai were certain that he wouldn't use his official authority or martial strength to truly harm them.
After all—
"No matter how unfilial they may be, I owe my Master a debt. I cannot abuse my power to suppress his daughter and son-in-law."
That was their reasoning.
This was their confidence—the reason why they dared to stand in the way of an Eighth-rank Military Commandant.
Because—
Wei Tu wasn’t just a military officer.
He was also Dan Wu Ju’s disciple.
Qiao Tai clutched his wounded cheek, remaining silent, refusing to answer.
"Master… likely has less than half a day left."
At that mont, Madam Gao, who had been standing behind Wei Tu, stepped forward and softly reminded him.
Wei Tu’s expression darkened.
He had already suspected as much.
In fact, from the mont Qiao Tai had blocked the door, he had already guessed the intentions of Dan Fang and her husband.
They were preventing anyone else from seeing Dan Wu Ju in his final hours.
Why?
For two reasons—
First, they wanted exclusive access to their father in his dying monts, so they could slander other family mbers in front of him.
This way, they could manipulate him into rewriting his will under false pretenses.
Most elderly people, especially those on the brink of death, often had clouded judgnt, making them easy to deceive.
Second—
Even if Dan Wu Ju didn’t change his will and remained clear-headed, the fact that he only saw them before his death would give them the perfect opportunity to claim,
"Father personally told us his last wishes."
With no other witnesses, they could fabricate any final testant they desired.
"If that’s how you want to play this, don’t bla for being ruthless."
Wei Tu’s gaze turned frigid.
He had hesitated before.
He hadn’t wanted to cause too much commotion before his Master’s passing.
That was why—
After striking Qiao Tai once, he had paused, giving him a chance to step aside on his own.
At the sa ti—
He had been waiting for Dan Yan Gong to arrive.
Although Dan Yan Gong had set out from the prefectural city at the sa ti as him, Wei Tu’s superior horsemanship allowed him to arrive at the Dan Family Stronghold ahead of him.
As the eldest son of the Dan family, Dan Yan Gong had the authority to make decisions in his father’s stead—especially matters that an outsider like Wei Tu was not suited to interfere in.
"If Yan Gong needed to inform , he could have just sent a servant. Why bother coming himself and leaving an opening for Dan Fang and her husband to take advantage of?"
Wei Tu shook his head at the thought.
—Perhaps even Dan Yan Gong hadn’t expected that his sister and her husband would act so shalessly, driving Madam Gao away and blocking the entrance to the living quarters.
At that mont—
A cold chill ran down Qiao Tai’s spine.
Wei Tu’s earlier whip strike had already left him deaf in one ear, turning him into a cripple.
If Wei Tu hardened his heart further, even if he survived today, he would sustain even more serious injuries—perhaps becoming permanently disabled elsewhere.
The more Qiao Tai thought about it, the more terrified he beca.
Setting aside the fact that he was technically Wei Tu’s in-law, he was still just a son-in-law living in the Dan household—his status was low both within and outside the Dan family.
If Wei Tu, an Eighth-rank Military Commandant, killed him on the spot, the worst that would happen was that Wei Tu might lose his post and pay a fine.
But jail ti? Highly unlikely.
Realizing this, Qiao Tai finally relented.
Swallowing hard, he took a step aside, clearing the path to the door.
—If he were permanently crippled, given Dan Fang’s nature, she would lose interest in him and likely find another man.
Seeing this, the icy glint in Wei Tu’s eyes faded slightly.
He turned around and nodded toward Madam Gao, signaling for her to follow him inside.
Qiao Tai instinctively moved as if to block her again.
But after hesitating—
He didn’t dare take that step.
Inside the living quarters, Wei Tu lifted the fabric curtain and caught sight of Dan Wu Ju lying in bed.
The old man’s face was ashen, his gaze vacant, his frail body emitting the distinct scent of aging and sickness.
Shifting his gaze, Wei Tu’s eyes landed on Dan Fang, who was seated by the bedside.
Dan Fang sat upright on a stool, and the mont she sensed Wei Tu’s gaze upon her, her body tensed.
Her face turned pale.
Just earlier, while listening to the commotion outside, she had already pieced together what had happened between Wei Tu and Qiao Tai.
She knew now—
Wei Tu wasn't the sa man she had known.
"Should I take it out? Or not?"
Dan Fang’s mind raced.
Her right hand, hidden within her sleeve, clenched tightly around a letter, its contents filled with freshly written text.
With every passing mont, the letter grew damp from the sweat pooling in her palm.
If she didn’t take it out soon—
The ink would smudge, rendering it useless.
But just as she struggled with her decision—
Wei Tu’s voice suddenly cut through the silence.
"How is Master?"
His tone was gentle, vastly different from the harsh dominance he had displayed at the doorway monts ago.
Dan Fang was stunned.
She imdiately understood.
Wei Tu didn’t want to cause a scene before his Master’s passing.
He wanted to ensure that Dan Wu Ju’s final monts were peaceful.
"He… he’s doing alright," Dan Fang forced a smile.
But the mont the words left her lips, she realized how absurd they sounded.
So she quickly added,
"Father… could still speak a little half an hour ago, but now he can’t say a word. He’s completely unresponsive, like he’s fallen into dentia."
"I expect that he won’t last much longer."
Dan Fang sighed.
As she spoke, her initial nervousness faded, and her expression softened into a look of sorrow.
At this mont—
She wasn’t sure herself.
Was this genuine grief?
Or was she putting on an act for Wei Tu?
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