“No matter how capable I am alone, I can’t withstand wave after wave of assassins from the martial world. Those killers weren’t just after my life—they wanted to destroy the scant evidence I’d worked so hard to gather.”
“One time, I was gravely injured, ambushed by relentless attacks. I thought my end had come, but heaven had mercy. Someone saved me. I believe the heavens saw how unjustly the master and his family died, so they sent someone to rescue me, giving me a chance to one day seek justice and avenge them.”
“My savior not only pulled me from death’s grip but spent a fortune on rare herbs to heal me. I barely clung to life, but it left me with permanent damage—no medicine can fix it. For decades, I’ve dragged this broken body through a wretched existence, all for the sake of avenging the master.”
“Later, I slipped back into Jiang City, hoping to take the master’s two daughters—A Ying and A Hui, the sisters—away. But when I returned, I learned they’d vanished. The Feng family claimed their nanny had abducted them.”
“The master had only these two girls after years of marriage, cherishing them like the apples of his eye. The nannies he hired for them were fiercely loyal—how could one of them abduct the girls?”
Mr. Fei glared at Feng Yue with icy fury, his eyes practically slicing her apart.
If looks could kill, Feng Yue would’ve been torn to shreds long ago.
“I suspect Feng Yue poisoned the two young misses. Maybe the nanny noticed something, so she fled with the children. They were hunted down, and the nanny gave her life to protect them. Eventually, the nanny was found—dead.”
“The sisters’ whereabouts remain unknown. Feng Yue swiftly claimed the master’s seat, becoming the head of the Feng family.”
“I secretly visited the Feng family cemetery to pay respects to the master, but Feng Yue found out. She sent assassins to ambush me there. After several attempts, I had no choice but to stop coming back.”
Mr. Fei’s voice was heavy as he continued, “For decades, I’ve endured the torment of my injuries, holding on through sheer will to avenge the master and desperately searching for the two young misses.”
He turned to Mrs. Shang, his eyes filled with guilt and self-reproach. “It’s my failure. Only recently did I find Miss A Ying, but A Hui… she passed away long ago. It’s my fault—I couldn’t protect them.”
“Loyal Uncle, this isn’t your fault,” Mrs. Shang said, harboring no blame toward Mr. Fei.
Mr. Fei had searched for the sisters, but by the time he could, her younger sister had already been adopted and renamed, while she herself had spent years in an orphanage. The harsh realities had erased much of her memory.
Finding them became nearly impossible. Their names had changed, and children’s appearances shift as they grow—Mr. Fei’s sketches didn’t match them anymore, leaving him searching in vain.
Even after she’d achieved success and sent people to find her sister, hadn’t it taken decades without results?
Back then, finding someone was no easy task—no surveillance, no clues, like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Even today, locating a lost child is a challenge.
When she first met Hai Tong, she’d felt an inexplicable warmth from her but never imagined Hai Tong could be her niece.
It was only after confirming their blood relation and reflecting on that first meeting that she understood why she and her mother had felt such affection for Hai Tong.
It was the pull of blood ties.
