Though Fu Yanghong sat at a modest teahouse by the street, his presence remained commanding. His posture was ramrod straight, and even though he was the one who had come to see Bai Qingqing, he looked every bit like someone weighing the situation, waiting for her to take the initiative to forgive him.
Had it been the past, Bai Qingqing might indeed have done just that. After all, a respected elder lowering himself to come meet her—how could she possibly insist on holding a grudge?
But now? Oh, she had no problem at all.
So, regardless of Fu Yanghong’s gaze boring into her, Bai Qingqing remained calm and unbothered, as though she had no idea what he'd come for.
Fu Yanghong could only purse his lips slightly and say, “Uncle knows you’ve always been a sensible child. Your father often praises your understanding and your kind heart. You know he and I have been close friends for many years. And yet over this matter, he’s ready to draw a clear line between us. It’s really… ah…”
Bai Qingqing kept her head lowered. “Father has always loved me dearly. You can rest assured, Uncle—I will certainly be a filial daughter to him from now on.”
He was stunned. How did this girl arrive at such a conclusion after everything he’d just said?
“Well of course, of course Uncle believes you,” he hurried to say. “But Qingqing, it’s really not such a big deal, is it? When it comes down to it, it was only because we like you so much. Why let things sour between the two families over this? You’re a clever girl—how can you bear to let your father be caught in the middle ?”
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A faint disapproval crept between his brows, coated with a thin veil of authority, just enough to press subtly against the heart.
But Bai Qingqing looked genuinely puzzled. “Uncle… are you hoping I’ll talk to him?”
“Exactly. As a daughter, isn’t it your duty to ease your parents’ burdens? Harmony in the family brings peace and joy to all.”
“But everything is already very harmonious in my home.”
Bai Qingqing’s confusion was heartbreakingly sincere, her eyes wide with innocent bewilderment, as if she truly couldn’t grasp the implication behind Fu Yanghong’s words.
Fu Yanghong’s frown deepened, the creases between his brows no longer concealed. “Are you really going to be so stubborn and unyielding? I came here because I believed you to be a kind and understanding child…”
“Uncle, by ‘understanding,’ do you mean someone who must swallow injustice without complaint?” Bai Qingqing’s voice was calm. “My father taught me from a young age that kindness is important—but blind compromise isn’t kindness. That’s cowardice.”
It was a lesson the Bai Qingqing of her previous life had forgotten. She had paid for it with her life. The moment she opened her eyes again, she understood her father had been right all along. She’d thought that her constant yielding and silence were acts of virtue—but they weren’t.
“I’m grateful Uncle was willing to come see me today. I’ve always respected you,” she continued, her tone still polite, “but you may not know—this isn’t the first time the Princess Consort of Prince Ping has schemed against me. You can go home and ask Fu Yi what she’s done.”
Fu Yanghong was taken aback. There was more to it? No one had told him anything about that.
But one thing was clear: trying to approach the matter through Bai Qingqing would not work. From the look of it, any chance of mending the ties between the Fu and Bai families was gone for now.
Whether Fu Yanghong asked Fu Yi after he returned remained a mystery. But he never showed his face before the Bai family again.
With the Ministry of Justice preparing to send men southwest to investigate, Bai Qingqing knew it would take time. So while she stayed closely informed, she also allowed herself to work on small, delicate crafts—like weaving silk tassels.
The broken piece of tassel lay in her vanity box. She saw it each morning as she dressed, and each time, her thoughts would unavoidably drift back to that day.