“Yes, Miss, this is your home.”
Throughout the journey, Feng Wangge had maintained a calm and composed expression. Seeing her expression finally shift slightly, Steward Li broke into a smile at last.
Gazing at the four characters “Shezhengwangfu” above the gate, Feng Wangge’s expression grew somewhat complicated. Those two people had been figures she greatly admired and praised during her youth.
“Miss, your father is the Shezhengwang of Daxia, and your mother is the Dongping Changgongzhu of Daxia.”
Steward Li explained slowly, his heart filled with emotion. Now that Miss had returned, the Prince’s family was finally reunited.
And Feng Wangge finally understood why her surname was Feng, and why there was no prominent Feng family in Jingcheng.
The Shezhengwang’s surname was Ling, given name Cang, while the Dongping Changgongzhu’s surname was Feng. So she had taken her mother’s surname.
Her brief flicker of surprise faded back into calmness.
“I see.”
Hearing Feng Wangge’s indifferent tone, Steward Li was taken aback once more. Her biological parents were such important figures—didn’t Miss feel even a hint of joy?
Yet he had no idea that Feng Wangge’s heart held little happiness. Instead, her emotions were even more complicated, even somewhat disappointed. She hated trouble.
Before the imposing gates stood formidable guards, yet her return as their biological daughter had drawn no one to receive her. It seemed she was not held in particularly high regard.
She smiled coldly to herself. Great noble families were always like this—and when it came to the Shezhengwang and the Changgongzhu, naturally they would have their airs.
“Clatter, clatter, clatter…”
Just as Steward Li was inviting Feng Wangge to step down from the carriage, a burst of urgent hoofbeats suddenly sounded on the road.
“Uncle Li, is this the sister Wangge you brought back from Qishan?” As the hoofbeats drew near, a bright and spirited female voice rang out.
A sword scabbard then lifted the carriage curtain. Feng Wangge frowned, her fingers instantly moving to her waist, her gaze turning sharply alert.
“Oh my, this sister of mine is truly beautiful. Come, sister, let me take you to see Father and Mother.”
A radiant, bold young woman’s face appeared before Feng Wangge, flashing her a wide smile.
“Junzhu, Miss has just arrived in Jingcheng and hasn’t even entered the house yet. Please don’t frighten her.”
Seeing the woman, Steward Li hastily added from behind.
“Who are you?”
Feng Wangge’s expression remained unchanged as she calmly glanced at the young woman and asked.
She had sensed hostility.
“I am Father and Mother’s daughter, Ling An’an. I am also your elder sister.”
Ling An’an explained, inwardly surprised by Feng Wangge’s beauty and composure.
She had appeared before Feng Wangge with such force—why did she not show the slightest reaction?
Wasn’t she supposed to be a poor girl from a mountain valley? Shouldn’t she be timid, cowardly, and overcome with inferiority?
“Daughter?” Feng Wangge repeated. On the journey here, and in the letter, no one had mentioned she had an elder sister. Steward Li had only said she had three older brothers.
“Miss, I’ll explain everything in detail later. Let’s go home first.”
Steward Li looked troubled and quickly changed the subject, feeling that the Junzhu was being somewhat rude.
“Yes, let’s go, sister. Let’s head home—Father and Mother must already be waiting for you in the hall. I’ll take you there.”
Ling An’an returned her scabbard to her waist, smiled, and extended her hand toward Feng Wangge.
“Where is Wangge? Where is my daughter?”
But at that moment, an urgent voice rang out, and Ling An’an was pushed aside as a beautiful, spirited woman appeared before Feng Wangge.
Looking at the woman with red-rimmed eyes, Feng Wangge narrowed her own. They looked far too alike.
“I am your mother, my child. It’s Mother’s fault—I let you suffer all these years.”
The woman disregarded all rules and propriety, leaping onto the carriage and pulling Feng Wangge into a tight embrace. Her falling tears dripped onto Feng Wangge’s neck.
It made her heart tremble. So this was her mother?
Ling An’an, who had been shoved off the carriage, was momentarily flustered. She had just subtly implied that Father and Mother wouldn’t come to welcome her.
“Zhuyue, hurry and get down—let me see our daughter.”
At the same time, an equally urgent voice sounded from outside.
Dongping Changgongzhu, Feng Zhuyue, quickly released Feng Wangge. Her face streaked with tears, she smiled at her, and the two descended from the carriage together.
“Wangge, this is your father.”
Once off the carriage, Feng Zhuyue pointed to a refined, gentle-looking middle-aged man.
Yet the Shezhengwang, rumored to wield supreme power over the court, now seemed nervous, his eyes equally red.
“Wangge, have you been well all these years? It’s your father’s uselessness that left you wandering outside for so many years. Can you forgive your father?”
His tone was cautious, tinged with a hint of pleading, his eyes filled with heartache and affection.
This was her father—Ling Cang, the Shezhengwang of Daxia.
Feng Wangge was stunned. This was nothing like what she had imagined. She answered softly, “I’ve been fine.”
“Come, let’s go home.”
Feng Zhuyue wiped away her tears, unable to stop gazing at Feng Wangge as if she couldn’t look at her enough, and pulled her toward the entrance.
The former Chu family estate had already been considered large, but the Shezhengwangfu was equivalent to ten Chu estates—glazed tiles and vermilion walls, pavilions and towers, rockeries and flowing water, every detail exquisitely crafted, luxurious yet understated.
Ling Cang and Feng Zhuyue flanked Feng Wangge on either side, following closely, afraid that the daughter they had finally found might leave again.
“Wangge, your father and I had some matters to attend to just now, which delayed us from coming out to greet you. Please don’t take offense.”
Ling Cang offered Feng Wangge an apologetic smile and explained gently in a warm voice.
The Shezhengwang, known for his swift and decisive actions and formidable methods, was exceedingly gentle with Feng Wangge.
This made everyone in the residence understand clearly—from now on, they would need to treat Miss Wangge with even greater respect and flattery.
“No offense taken.”
Feng Wangge had not yet come to appreciate the tender affection from her parents, and her expression carried a hint of unease.
Yet this very demeanor made Ling Cang and Feng Zhuyue’s hearts ache all the more.
Their daughter wore the simplest of clothing, with no jewelry to speak of, and according to Old Li, her only luggage was a small bundle.
Their daughter should have enjoyed the finest things this world had to offer, yet because of their own inadequacy, Wangge had suffered so many years of hardship.
“Now that you’re home, that’s what matters. From now on, Mother will cherish you and love you well, making up for everything. Even if you wanted the stars in the sky, Mother would pluck them down for you.”
Feng Zhuyue held Feng Wangge’s hand, speaking with firm and earnest conviction.
When they reached the flower hall, the two had Feng Wangge take a seat. The table was laid with exquisite fruits, pastries, and warm tea—clearly prepared well in advance.
“You must have traveled a long way and grown weary. Do eat something.”
Feng Zhuyue picked up a pastry, Ling Cang held out a cup of tea, both gazing at her with eager anticipation.
Their eyes were full of doting affection, nothing but love.
Even though Feng Wangge had experienced much in her life, she still felt somewhat constrained at this moment—her parents were simply too enthusiastic.
She took a pastry and bit into it. Mm, it was Tianxianglou’s Apricot Blossom Crisp, which now sold for ten taels of silver per box.
Then she took a sip of tea—the finest Tianshan Yuyechun, worth a thousand gold per liang, and unavailable to outsiders, as it was reserved exclusively for the imperial family.
Standing nearby, Ling An’an watched as her parents fussed over Feng Wangge, and her hand gripping her sword hilt tightened slightly.
“Father, Mother, Sister Wangge has suffered so many years of hardship. We should make it up to her properly. I’m willing to give up Ziweiyuan for Sister to live in.”
Ling An’an’s face was full of understanding, generosity, and kindness.
Even Feng Wangge couldn’t help but glance at Ling An’an.
This was retreating in order to advance—by all logic, her birth parents should feel deeply sorry for Ling An’an, then go comfort her, leaving Feng Wangge set aside.
Feng Wangge had already prepared herself for this, even mentally arranging for someone to prepare her lodgings.
And indeed, Feng Zhuyue and Ling Cang spoke up.
“No need. My own daughter’s courtyard requires no one to yield it to her.”