Outside the grand and heavy gate of the White Tiger Duke's mansion, a dark mass of figures gradually came into view.
Nearly a hundred taxi drivers dressed in uniform armor appeared in the public eye, marching in unison.
They were surrounded by an inescapable, chilling aura, and each one of them was a battle-hardened elite who had survived countless deaths and carnage.
The leader was the most imposing and tall, and the finely crafted armor he wore was noticeably more intricate, with the ferocious white tiger's jaws on his shoulder armor gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
When his figure came into view, the entire Duke's mansion erupted in a murmur of awe and excitement: "The Duke... it's His Majesty the Duke!"
This man is none other than the owner of this mansion, the current Duke of White Tiger—Dai Hao!
Duchess Zhu Yunqing, who was already dressed in her finest attire and waiting, led her two sons, Dai Yueheng and Dai Huabin, to greet them.
The family of four reunited under the watchful eyes of everyone. Dai Hao dismounted, nodded to his wife, and then reached out to pat the heads of his two sons.
Sunlight streams in, painting a perfect picture of a warm and loving family.
Even the usually stern guards behind him softened their usually resolute faces, revealing a hint of gentle blessing.
At the edge of the bustling crowd inside the Duke's mansion, Huo Yun'er lifted little Dai Yuhao a little higher so that he could see the figure not far away through the throng of heads in front of him.
She tilted her head slightly, her lips close to the child's soft ear, and said, "Yuhao, look... that is your father, and also the true master of this Duke's mansion."
Dai Yuhao stretched his neck in his mother's arms, looking at the tall figure in the distance, surrounded by stars.
Sunlight shone on the majestic armor, reflecting a dazzling light. Dai Hao's proud and upright posture, and the sincere awe of the surrounding crowd, were all deeply imprinted in the child's pure eyes.
He couldn't help but let out a soft "Wow...", which was filled with a child's most instinctive and perfect imagination and worship of "father".
Looking at the undisguised longing in her son's eyes, and then at the happy "family of four" in the distance, Huo Yun'er felt a surge of emotions mixed with bitterness and resentment welling up in her chest.
She bit her lip, as if using all her strength, and whispered to Dai Yuhao in her arms, "Yuhao, Mommy will take you... to find Daddy."
In the past, given her timid and reserved nature, she would never have taken the initiative to appear before Dai Hao on such a occasion.
But the story Dai Yuhao told her about Aunt Leng and the countless wonderful and novel "dreams" made her feel a deep sense of guilt.
Her child shouldn't have to only be able to enjoy a decent meal in his dreams, nor should he be bullied and unknown in that small courtyard.
This decision was not for her own long-suppressed desires, but solely for her Yuhao.
She wanted to fight for her child's rightful place in the world, for the protection he deserved, even if it was just a little bit, so that he could live a little more like a normal child, instead of being a speck of dust in the shadows.
Having made up her mind, Huo Yun'er hugged Dai Yuhao tightly and began to carefully push through the crowd in front of her, inching her way toward the door.
However, she had only squeezed forward two or three steps when an irresistible force suddenly came from her arm, and her arms were suddenly empty!
Dai Yuhao was forcibly taken away by another pair of arms.
Just as Huo Yun'er was about to cry out in alarm, a hand swiftly reached out from behind and covered her mouth tightly.
The force was so great that she almost suffocated.
At the same time, a deliberately lowered, cold voice rang close to her ear, carrying an undisguised threat.
"Madam was right. If you want your son to be safe and sound, you'd better shut your mouth and keep quiet."
Huo Yun'er struggled to turn her head under the other party's restraint, her pupils suddenly shrinking!
Just a few steps away, Dai Yuhao was also firmly controlled by another person. His mouth was tightly covered, and the child was struggling in vain, but could not make a sound.
She recognized the woman holding Dai Yuhao; she was a maidservant of Duchess Zhu Yunqing.
Although she was only a Great Soul Master in her thirties and not a genius Soul Master, she was still far beyond what an ordinary person like her with no soul power could contend with.
Huo Yun'er blinked hard and nodded rapidly, indicating that she would never scream.
The hand covering her mouth slowly released its grip, leaving a burning sensation.
Huo Yun'er turned around, panting, and was indeed faced with another familiar face, also a maid from Zhu Yunqing's courtyard.
The other person took a step closer and lowered their voice to a whisper: "As long as you and your son behave yourselves and don't have any improper thoughts, you can naturally keep your worthless lives."
In the blink of an eye, Huo Yun'er understood everything.
That high and mighty duchess was utterly intolerant and wary of her!
Her already pale face drained of all color, and her hands clenched tightly in her sleeves, her nails almost digging into her palms, sending a sharp pain through her, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation and despair in her heart.
She lowered her head, her voice dry and weak, with a final plea: "I...I won't appear in front of him on my own initiative, please...don't hurt my son."
The maid let out a disdainful snort: "You're smart to know what's good for you."
A mocking smile immediately appeared on her face. She raised her chin slightly and said in a playful tone, "Now, Madam Huo, please take our young master back...!"
The titles "Madam" and "Young Master" that came out of her mouth were not only devoid of respect, but were also full of sarcasm.
Huo Yun'er froze, and under the watchful eyes of two icy gazes, she moved step by step over and took Dai Yuhao, who was still trembling slightly, from the other person's arms.
The child's body was warm, but she felt a bone-chilling cold.
She forced a smile that looked worse than a grimace, her lips trembling, and whispered to Dai Yuhao in her arms, "Yuhao, be good, let's go home first, okay?"
Dai Yuhao looked up, his big eyes still filled with lingering fear and confusion.
This unusually precocious child didn't cry or make a fuss, nor did he ask any questions. He simply buried his face deeply in his mother's thin arms, nodded vigorously, and let out a muffled "Mmm."
Huo Yun'er hugged him tightly, as if she were clinging to the last piece of driftwood in her life, and dared not look at the lively and warm scene that belonged to others in the distance.
She turned around and, retracing her steps, slowly and heavily made her way back to that secluded and desolate courtyard.
Duke Dai Hao of the White Tiger returned home but only stayed for one day before donning his armor again and heading to the front lines.
For Dai Yuhao, although he was unable to say a word to his father, who was as majestic as a mountain, he at least learned who his father was.
However, ever since that day, Dai Yuhao has often caught glimpses of his mother secretly wiping away tears.
He didn't yet understand the humiliation, despair, and unfathomable love contained in those tears; he only instinctively felt a cold sadness.
Sometimes, he only dared to peek out from behind the door frame.
Sometimes, when his mother found out, he would silently snuggle into her arms and press his small body tightly against her.
Because whenever this happened, Huo Yun'er could always quickly wipe away her tears, hug him tightly, and try to curve a gentle smile at the corners of her mouth.
Just like right now!
Night had fallen, and only a small oil lamp cast a dim, yellowish glow in the cramped room.
Huo Yun'er sat on the edge of the bed with Dai Yuhao in her arms, gently swaying her body.
"Yuhao, don't blame your father..."
"He is a great hero, guarding the empire's borders and protecting millions of people... He has his responsibilities and his own unavoidable circumstances..."
Her voice was soft, as if she were speaking to a child, or as if she were convincing herself.
Dai Yuhao listened with a mixture of understanding and confusion, his gaze falling on his mother's clothes, which rose and fell slightly with her breath. The clothes had a rough texture from excessive washing, and also the comforting scent of soap that belonged to his mother.
As he listened, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and his consciousness slowly sank as if immersed in warm water.
Finally, amidst that almost whispered soothing voice, he drifted off to sleep.