Chapter 22: The Serious Father

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

When the carriage stopped in the inner courtyard, Xuanxi was standing by the corridor window, looking at the fountain in the garden.

She had changed into a silver-gray long dress, sent by Xige’s mother. The fabric was so soft it was almost unreal, which instead made her feel deeply uncomfortable.

Hildegrifa stood beside her, her silver hair tied back, looking like a knight guarding Princess Xuanxi.

“Remember,” Hildegrifa said in a low voice. “Talk less later. Leave the rest to me.”

Xuanxi tightened her grip on Hildegrifa’s hand.

Footsteps came from the end of the corridor—heavy, forceful, with an unquestionable rhythm. This was Xuanxi’s first time seeing the Duke of Edelstein.

He wasn’t as tall as she had imagined, but his presence made it feel like the whole world was tilting toward him. His hair was deep silver, with neatly trimmed short stubble.

His eyes were the same amethyst-crystal color as Hildegrifa’s, but colder and deeper, like a frozen lake in winter.

His gaze first fell on his daughter, softening for a moment, then shifted to Xuanxi. In that instant, Xuanxi felt as if a beam of light had scanned her from head to toe.

“Father.” Hildegrifa gave a slight bow.

The Duke nodded but didn’t speak. He walked into the study, sat down behind the desk. He didn’t speak immediately.

Instead, he picked up a letter from the desk, opened it with a letter opener, read it, then set it down. His movements were slow, each step carrying the leisurely reserve of old aristocracy.

“Xige,” he began, his silver-gray eyes on his daughter. “Do you still remember the Wolf Family?”

Hildegrifa’s body tensed slightly. “I remember. The family that had a good relationship with ours before.”

“Their eldest son, Rex Wolf, is the same age as you. Last year, his bloodline broke through to S-Class. He also has thunder-fire dual affinity.” The Duke tapped his finger lightly on the envelope. “So his father wrote yesterday, wanting to arrange a meeting between you two.”

The study fell silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Father,” Hildegrifa’s voice was steady. “I already have someone I like.”

The Duke’s finger stopped. He looked up, his amethyst-crystal eyes fixed on his daughter, his gaze scrutinizing more intensely than when he had looked at Xuanxi.

It wasn’t anger—it was surprise. He hadn’t expected his daughter to say she already had a sweetheart at this critical moment.

“Who?” the Duke asked.

His tone didn’t change noticeably, but the air in the study grew heavy. He had already listed all possible candidates in his mind: the Steel Bristle Family?

The Ashen Family? Or some rising star from a new family? But no matter which one, he had prepared arguments to make his daughter give up on that person.

Hildegrifa reached out and took Xuanxi’s hand. “Xuanxi. Xuanxi Herras.”

The Duke’s gaze moved from his daughter’s hand to Xuanxi’s hand, from Xuanxi’s hand to Xuanxi’s face. His expression showed confusion—his brow furrowed slightly, his lips parted and closed again.

He looked at their clasped hands for a while, then at Xuanxi’s face, and finally his eyes returned to his daughter’s face. The air in the study froze completely after Hildegrifa spoke those words.

The Duke’s finger stopped on the envelope, unmoving for a long time. His amethyst-crystal eyes were like an unfathomable lake—no anger, no disgust, only a deep, bottomless scrutiny.

“You say you like her,” the Duke said, his voice low and heavy. “Then do you know who she is? Where she comes from? Why she appeared by your side?”

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

“No, you don’t, my good daughter.” The Duke stood up from his chair. Very slowly, very slowly, like the sun rising from the horizon. He didn’t look at his daughter; his eyes stayed fixed on Xuanxi. “Let your father test her for you.”

The moment his words fell, Xuanxi 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 he released—the Dragon pressure of an S-Class bloodline, the current head of the Edelstein Family.

Xuanxi’s knees went weak. Her breathing stopped. The world before her began to lose color. It felt like a mountain was pressing down on her shoulders, on her chest, on every rise and fall of her breath.

The Duke pushed harder. Xuanxi could no longer bear it. She collapsed to her knees, the force so great it cracked the floor beneath her.

“Father!” Hildegrifa’s voice came from the side, urgent in a way she had never heard before. She stepped forward, placing herself in front of Xuanxi, her silver-white hair blown back by the pressure. “Stop, Father!”

The Duke didn’t withdraw his pressure. His amethyst-crystal eyes watched his daughter standing in front of that girl.

“Move aside.”

“No.”

Father and daughter stared at each other. The air tore between them.

A hand reached in from the side—gently, but with no room for refusal—and gripped Hildegrifa. It wasn’t Xuanxi; it was Lady Freya. The Duchess’s light purple eyes looked at her daughter, her gaze tender, but the strength in her fingers didn’t waver.

“Hildegrifa.” Her voice was very soft, like snow falling on cotton in winter. “Let him see. He’s doing it for your own good.”

“Mother—Xuanxi, she—”

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

Hildegrifa bit her lip and didn’t move. Freya didn’t let go. Her fingers gently tightened, pulling her daughter away from Xuanxi, like leading away a child who refused to leave.

The pressure fell back on Xuanxi. Without Hildegrifa’s shielding, the force came down like a complete dome of heaven. Her knees trembled, every cell in her body enduring pressure far beyond her limit.

Then she felt it—a burning sensation beneath her right eye. The heavenly fate mark lit up, dark-gold light spreading from the corner of her eye to her cheekbone, like a thin line being ignited.

The light grew brighter and brighter, and then—one line, two lines, three lines. Normally only two lines appeared on her, but now, under the pressure of Xige’s father, the third heavenly fate mark manifested. The Duke’s pressure instead caused Xuanxi’s bloodline to refine further.

The pressure intensified, but the Duke showed no sign of stopping. He wanted to see it through. Dragon pressure was both proof of bloodline and, if used properly, a weapon.

If this girl was an agent sent by some other force to deceive his daughter’s feelings, then his pressure would shatter her disguise.

Xuanxi’s knees were already bent. Her spine bent lower and lower under the pressure. Beads of sweat slid down her forehead, dripping onto the carpet, leaving small dark wet spots. Her fingers pressed against the floor, the tips turning white.

“Mother—” Hildegrifa’s voice squeezed through her teeth. Watching from the side, she could no longer bear to look.

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

The pressure kept increasing. Xuanxi’s eyelids grew heavy. Her consciousness began to blur. The candlelight around her became patches of warm yellow light. Sounds turned into a buzzing vibration.

Then she heard water—not external water, but water inside her body.

Surging through her meridians, like a burst dam, flooding from her dantian to her limbs and bones, gushing out from a place she had never reached before. The Spiritual Energy in her body was no longer a gentle stream as before; it had become a wide river.

She lifted her head. Everyone then noticed that her amber-golden eyes had changed.

They were no longer amber-gold, but pure gold—like the pupils of the primordial dragon in ancient legends. Golden light poured from her eyes, illuminating the room.

Golden eyes! The Duke’s pressure halted, blocked by those golden eyes. Xuanxi’s spine straightened little by little. The pressure was still there, but she now had the strength to do other things.

Her body began to change. Dark-cyan scales emerged from her neck, spreading upward. From neck to jaw, from jaw to cheekbone, from cheekbone to temple.

Each scale bore golden light patterns, flowing along the edges of the scales. Her fingers elongated, her nails turned black, like ink-black daggers.

On both sides of her forehead, something was growing outward—horns. Coral-like, branching, protruding diagonally from her temples. Short and delicate, glowing with a dark-cyan luster in the radiance of her golden eyes.

No wings. From head to tail, the entire dragon had not a single characteristic of the western dragon race. An eastern dragon. Unmistakably an eastern dragon.

The study fell silent. The Duke withdrew his pressure, like a tide receding, silent and soundless. All pressure dissipated, as if it had never existed. Xuanxi knelt on the floor, gasping for breath.

Her golden eyes gradually faded, returning from pure gold to amber-gold. The scales also receded from her face, the horns retracted into her temples, her fingernails returned to normal. But the heavenly fate mark remained lit—and it was three lines.

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

The Duke stood behind his desk, looking at Xuanxi. In his amethyst-crystal eyes, there was no more scrutiny, no more suspicion—only a complex expression: surprise, confirmation, and a trace of respect he didn’t want to admit.

“Golden eyes,” he said in a low voice. “And no wings. You are a descendant of an eastern dragon.”

Freya also released her daughter’s wrist. Hildegrifa quickly walked over and crouched down, helping Xuanxi up from the floor. She wrapped an arm around Xuanxi’s waist, letting her lean against her.

Xuanxi rested on her shoulder, her breathing not yet fully steady, but she reached out and took Hildegrifa’s hand.

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

Hildegrifa didn’t speak. She tightened her grip on Xuanxi’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 refuse the Wolf Family. Take your friend to rest first.”

That night, Xuanxi lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The heavenly fate mark beneath her right eye was still faintly burning.

She looked at herself in the mirror for a long time, touched it with her finger, but still couldn’t feel anything—smooth, as if nothing had grown there.

But she knew it was there. The third line had been forced out by the pressure. The seal had loosened one layer during the resistance.

There were three soft knocks on the door. Xuanxi went to open it barefoot. Hildegrifa stood outside, wearing a white nightgown, her silver hair loose on her shoulders, holding two cups of warm milk.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“Mm.”

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

“Your eyes turned gold today.” Hildegrifa’s voice was very soft.

“Mm.”

“They were beautiful.”

Xuanxi was startled. Hildegrifa wasn’t looking at her; she took a small sip of her own milk, then wiped a drop from the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

“My father did it on purpose.” Hildegrifa set down the cup. “He was deliberately testing you.”

“I know.”

“You’re not angry?”

Xuanxi thought for a moment. “He’s your father. And he was confirming whether the person his daughter likes is worth it. I can understand.”

Hildegrifa turned her head. Her amethyst-crystal eyes reflected the moonlight as she quietly looked at Xuanxi.

“And do you think you’re worth it?”

Xuanxi’s fingers tightened around the milk cup. “I don’t know. But I’ll make her think I am.”

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

“Good night.”

“You… are you leaving?” Xuanxi’s voice came from behind her.

Hildegrifa turned around, looking at the girl with dark-cyan hair in the moonlight.

“This bed is big,” Xuanxi said, moving over a bit and patting the empty half of the bed. “And I can’t sleep alone.”

Hildegrifa stood at the door, her silver-white hair hanging on her shoulders. Moonlight came through the window, making her nightgown almost translucent.

“Now now, girls shouldn’t be too close.” She said, then turned and left. Her footsteps faded down the corridor.

Xuanxi looked at the closed door and sighed softly. She lay down, covering herself with the blanket.

The heavenly fate mark beneath her right eye was still warm, but her eyelids were heavy, and her consciousness felt like something was pulling it down.

Next door, Hildegrifa 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 thought about what Xuanxi had said. She thought about the way she patted the bed. She thought about the expression on her face when she spoke.

In those beautiful amber-golden eyes, there was a kind of cautiousness she had never seen before—like asking a question she was afraid would be rejected.

Hildegrifa turned over, burying her face in the pillow. Her silver-white hair spilled over the white sheets.

Then she turned over again. And again.

After the third turn, she seemed to have made up her mind. She sat up, stepped barefoot onto the carpet, and slowly opened the door. The wall lamps in the corridor had been dimmed to their lowest.

Her steps were very light, like a leaf falling on water. When she pushed open that door, the hinges made no sound, not even the wind was disturbed.

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

Hildegrifa stood by the bed, looking at her.

Xuanxi’s lips moved. “Hildegrifa…” Very softly. It wasn’t a call, just Xuanxi talking in her sleep. The corner of her mouth lifted into a small smile as she spoke. She turned over, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself.

Hildegrifa stood there, her amethyst-crystal eyes reflecting the moonlight, watching the sleeping person for a long time.

She reached out, gently brushing the strands of hair from Xuanxi’s cheek to behind her ear. Her fingertips slid over Xuanxi’s skin. Xuanxi didn’t wake. Hildegrifa sat down on the edge of the bed.

She just sat there, her silver-white hair hanging by her side. Moonlight cast 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.

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

Hildegrifa 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. So close that she could hear Xuanxi’s breathing.

Her eyelids grew heavier. Her consciousness felt like something was pulling it down. The last image she saw was Xuanxi’s calm profile in the moonlight, and the three dark-gold heavenly fate marks on her face.