Chapter 22: The Stern Father

Two days later, the Duke—Sige’s father—returned.

When the carriage stopped in the inner courtyard, Xuan Xi was standing by the window in the corridor, looking at the fountain in the garden. She had changed into a silver-gray dress that Sige’s mother had sent over. The fabric was so soft it made her feel uncomfortable. Sigrdrífa stood beside her, her silver hair tied back, looking like a knight guarding Princess Xuan Xi.

“Remember,” Sigrdrífa said in a low voice. “Speak as little as possible. Leave the rest to me.”

Xuan Xi tightened her grip on Sigrdrífa’s hand.

Footsteps came from the end of the corridor, heavy and powerful, with a rhythm that left no room for doubt. This was the first time Xuan Xi had seen the Duke of Edelstein. He wasn’t as tall as she had imagined, but his presence made the entire world seem to tilt toward him. His hair was deep silver, with a neatly trimmed short beard. His eyes, the same amethyst as Sigrdrífa’s, were colder and deeper—like a frozen lake in winter.

His gaze first fell on his daughter, softening for a fraction of a second, then shifted to Xuan Xi. In that instant, Xuan Xi felt as if a beam of light had swept over her from head to toe.

“Father.” Sigrdrífa bowed slightly.

The Duke nodded but didn’t speak. He walked into the study and sat down behind the desk. He didn’t immediately say anything. Instead, he picked up a letter from the desk, opened it with a letter opener, read it, and set it down. His movements were slow, each step carrying the calm and restraint unique to old aristocrats.

“Sige.” He spoke, his silver-gray eyes fixed on his daughter. “Do you still remember the Wolf Family?”

Sigrdrífa’s body tensed slightly. “I do. The family we used to have a good relationship with.”

“Their eldest son, Rex Wolf, is the same age as you. Last year, his bloodline broke through to S-rank. He also has Thunder-Fire Dual Affinity.” The Duke tapped his finger lightly on the envelope. “So his father wrote yesterday, hoping to arrange a meeting between the two of you.”

The study fell silent. You could hear a pin drop.

“Father,” Sigrdrífa said, her voice steady. “I already have someone I like.”

The Duke’s finger stopped. He looked up, his amethyst eyes fixed on his daughter, with a scrutiny even deeper and sharper than when he had looked at Xuan Xi. It wasn’t anger—it was surprise. He hadn’t expected his daughter to say she already had a crush at such a critical moment.

“Who?” the Duke asked.

His tone didn’t change noticeably, but the air in the study grew heavier. He had already run through all possible candidates in his mind. The Steel Mane Family? The Ashes Family? Or some rising star from a new family? Whichever it was, he had prepared arguments to make his daughter give up on them.

Sigrdrífa reached out and took Xuan Xi’s hand. “Xuan Xi. Xuan Xi Hellas.”

The Duke’s gaze moved from his daughter’s hand to Xuan Xi’s hand, then from Xuan Xi’s hand to her face. A look of confusion appeared on his face. His brow furrowed slightly, and his lips parted and closed again. He stared at their joined hands for a moment, then at Xuan Xi’s face, and finally back at his daughter’s face. The air in the study solidified completely after Sigrdrífa spoke those words.

The Duke’s fingers remained still on the envelope for a long time. His amethyst eyes were like an unfathomable lake—no anger, no disgust, only a deep, bottomless scrutiny.

“You say you like her.” The Duke’s voice was low and heavy. “Then do you know who she is? Where she comes from? Why she appeared by your side?”

“I know.” Sigrdrífa’s voice didn’t tremble at all.

“No, you don’t, my good daughter.” The Duke stood up from his chair. He rose very, very slowly, like the sun emerging from the horizon. He didn’t look at his daughter; his gaze remained fixed on Xuan Xi. “Let your father test her for you.”

The moment his words fell, Xuan Xi felt it.

An invisible force surged from the Duke—like a tsunami, like a landslide, like the entire sky pressing down. It wasn’t an attack. It was the pressure the Duke released—the SS-rank bloodline, the Dragon Pressure of the current head of House Edelstein.

Xuan Xi’s knees went weak. Her breath stopped. The world around her began to fade. It felt like a mountain pressing on her shoulders, on her chest, on every rise and fall of her breathing.

The Duke pushed harder. Xuan Xi couldn’t bear it any longer and fell to her knees. The force was so great that it cracked the floor beneath her.

“Father!” Sigrdrífa’s voice came from the side, more urgent than she had ever heard. She stepped forward, blocking Xuan Xi, her silver-white hair swept back by the pressure. “Stop, Father!”

The Duke didn’t retract his pressure. His amethyst eyes looked at the daughter standing in front of that girl.

“Move aside.”

“No.”

Father and daughter stared at each other, the air tearing between them.

A hand reached in from the side—gently but firmly—and grasped Sigrdrífa. It wasn’t Xuan Xi. It was Lady Freya. The Duchess’s light purple eyes looked at her daughter with gentle warmth, but her fingers didn’t loosen at all.

“Sige,” she said softly, like snow falling on cotton. “Let him see. He’s doing this for your own good.”

“Mother—Xuan Xi, she—”

“He won’t hurt her.” Freya’s gaze moved from her daughter’s face to her husband’s, pausing for a moment. “He is just confirming something.”

Sigrdrífa bit her lips and didn’t move. Freya didn’t let go. Her fingers gently closed, pulling her daughter away from Xuan Xi, like leading a reluctant child.

The pressure fell on Xuan Xi again. Without Sigrdrífa blocking it, the force descended like a complete dome of heaven. Her knees trembled because every cell in her body was enduring pressure far beyond its limit.

Then she felt it. A burning sensation under her right eye. The Destiny Mark lit up—a dark gold light spreading from the corner of her eye to her cheekbone, like a thin line set ablaze. The light grew brighter, and then—one, two, three. Normally only two lines appeared, but now, under Sige’s father’s pressure, a third Destiny Mark emerged. The Duke’s pressure had instead pushed Xuan Xi’s bloodline a step further.

The pressure grew stronger, but the Duke showed no sign of stopping. He wanted to see it through. Dragon Pressure was both proof of bloodline and, when used correctly, a weapon. If this girl was an agent sent by another faction to deceive his daughter’s feelings, his pressure would shatter her disguise.

Xuan Xi’s knees were already bending. Her back slowly lowered under the pressure. Sweat dripped from her forehead, soaking into the carpet in small dark patches. Her fingers pressed against the floor, the tips turning white.

“Mother—” Sigrdrífa’s voice squeezed out through clenched teeth. Watching from the side, she couldn’t bear to see any more.

Freya didn’t let go. Her eyes were on Xuan Xi, her gaze calm. She could feel her daughter’s wrist trembling faintly.

The pressure kept increasing. Xuan Xi’s eyelids grew heavy. Her consciousness began to blur. The candlelight around her turned into patches of warm yellow spots, and sound became a buzzing vibration.

Then she heard the sound of water. Not water from outside—water inside her body. Surging through her meridians like a burst dam, flooding from her Dantian to her limbs and bones, erupting from a place she had never reached before. The Spiritual Qi inside her was no longer a trickling stream but a vast river.

She raised her head. Only then did everyone notice that her amber-gold pupils had changed. They were no longer amber-gold—they were pure gold. Like the pupils of the Ancestral Dragon from ancient legends. Golden light poured from her eyes, illuminating the room.

Golden Eyes! The Duke’s pressure halted, blocked by those golden eyes. Xuan Xi’s back straightened bit by bit. The pressure was still there, but she had the strength to do other things.

Her body began to change. Ink-green scales appeared on her neck, spreading outward. From her neck to her jaw, from her jaw to her cheekbones, from her cheekbones to the corners of her forehead.

Each scale carried golden light patterns that flowed along the edges. Her fingers lengthened, and her nails turned black like ink daggers.

Something was growing from both sides of her forehead—horns. Branching, coral-like horns that extended diagonally from her forehead. Short and delicate, they shimmered with an ink-green luster in the light of the Golden Eyes.

No wings. From head to tail, the entire dragon showed no trace of Western Dragon characteristics. Eastern Dragon. It was unmistakably an Eastern Dragon.

The study fell silent. The Duke’s pressure withdrew, like a tide receding—silent and unnoticed. All the pressure dissipated, as if it had never existed. Xuan Xi knelt on the floor, gasping for air. Her Golden Eyes slowly faded, returning to amber-gold. The scales receded from her face, the horns retracted into her forehead, and her nails returned to normal. But the Destiny Mark remained lit—all three lines.

The third one didn’t fade. Her bloodline had been upgraded.

The Duke stood behind his desk, looking at Xuan Xi. There was no more scrutiny or doubt in his amethyst eyes, only complex emotion—surprise, confirmation, and a trace of respect he didn’t want to admit.

“Golden Eyes,” he murmured. “And no wings. You are a descendant of the Eastern Dragon.”

Freya also released her daughter’s wrist. Sigrdrífa quickly walked over and crouched down, helping Xuan Xi to her feet. She wrapped an arm around her waist, letting her lean against her. Xuan Xi leaned on her shoulder, still catching her breath, but she reached out and took Sigrdrífa’s hand.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was small but steady.

Sigrdrífa didn’t speak. She tightened her grip on Xuan Xi’s hand. Her eyes were red, but she didn’t cry.

The Duke was silent for a long time. He walked back to his desk, picked up the letter, folded it, and put it in a drawer.

“I’ll find a way to decline the Wolf Family’s offer. Take your friend and rest for now.”

That night, Xuan Xi lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The Destiny Mark under her right eye was still faintly hot. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long time, touched it with her finger, but felt nothing—smooth, as if nothing had grown there. But she knew it was there. The third line had been forced out by the pressure, and the seal had loosened by one layer while resisting it.

The door was knocked gently three times. Xuan Xi went to open it with bare feet. Sigrdrífa stood outside, wearing a white nightgown, her silver hair loose on her shoulders, holding two glasses of warm milk in her hands.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“Mm.”

Sigrdrífa walked in, put the milk on the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Moonlight came through the window, falling on her profile, softening her outline into something gentle and quiet.

“Your eyes turned gold today,” Sigrdrífa said softly.

“Mm.”

“They were beautiful.”

Xuan Xi froze for a moment. Sigrdrífa wasn’t looking at her. She took a small sip of her own milk and wiped the milk stain from her lips with her thumb.

“My father did it on purpose,” Sigrdrífa said, setting down the cup. “He was testing you on purpose.”

“I know.”

“You’re not angry?”

Xuan Xi thought for a moment. “He’s your father. And he was making sure the person his daughter likes is worthy. I understand.”

Sigrdrífa turned her head, her amethyst eyes reflecting the moonlight as she quietly looked at Xuan Xi.

“Then do you think it’s worth it?”

Xuan Xi’s fingers tightened around the milk glass. “I don’t know. But I’ll make her feel it’s worth it.”

Sigrdrífa smiled gently. She stood up, walked to the door, and stopped.

“Good night.”

“Are you… leaving?” Xuan Xi’s voice came from behind her.

Sigrdrífa turned around and looked at the girl with ink-green hair in the moonlight.

“This bed is big,” Xuan Xi said, scooting over and patting the empty half. “And I can’t sleep alone.”

Sigrdrífa stood at the door, her silver-white hair falling over her shoulders. Moonlight streamed through the window, making her nightgown almost translucent.

“Be good. Girls shouldn’t get too close.” She said it and turned away. Her footsteps faded down the corridor.

Xuan Xi stared at the closed door and let out a soft sigh. She lay down and pulled the covers over herself. The Destiny Mark under her right eye was still hot, but her eyelids were heavy, and her consciousness felt like something was pulling it down.

Next door, Sigrdrífa lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her silver-white hair spread across the pillow. Moonlight squeezed through the gap in the curtains, drawing a thin white line on the floor.

She remembered what Xuan Xi had said, the way she patted the bed, the expression on her face when she spoke. Those beautiful amber-gold eyes held a carefulness she had never seen before, as if she were asking a question she was afraid would be rejected.

Sigrdrífa turned over, burying her face in the pillow. Her silver-white hair scattered across the white sheets.

Then she turned over again. And again.

After the third turn, she seemed to have made a decision. She sat up, got out of bed with bare feet on the carpet, and slowly opened the door. The wall lamps in the corridor were dimmed to their lowest. Her footsteps were light, like a leaf landing on the water’s surface. When she pushed open the door, the hinges didn’t make a sound, not even disturbing the wind.

Xuan Xi was already asleep. Her hair spread across the pillow, her breathing steady and long.

Sigrdrífa stood by the bed, looking at her.

Xuan Xi’s lips moved. “Sige…” It was very soft. Not a call—just Xuan Xi talking in her sleep. As she spoke, a small smile curved at the corner of her mouth. She turned over, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

Sigrdrífa stood there, her amethyst eyes reflecting the moonlight, looking at the sleeping person for a long time.

She reached out and gently brushed the stray strands of hair from Xuan Xi’s cheek. Her fingertips slid across Xuan Xi’s skin. Xuan Xi didn’t wake up. Sigrdrífa sat down on the edge of the bed.

She just sat there, her silver-white hair falling to the side, the moonlight casting both their shadows on the floor.

“Actually, I can’t sleep either,” she said.

Her voice was so soft that only she could hear it.

Xuan Xi’s breathing remained steady. She turned over again, facing the window.

Sigrdrífa slipped under the covers, resting her head on her arm. Between her and the person in the bed, there was less than an arm’s length of distance. So close that she could hear Xuan Xi’s breathing.

Her eyelids grew heavier. Her consciousness felt like something was pulling it down. The last image she saw was Xuan Xi’s peaceful profile in the moonlight, and the three dark gold Destiny Marks on her face.