Chapter Eight: The Restored Title Is Not the Sun Family's!

"Qian’er, do you still hold a grudge against your father?"

Old Lord Sun Ye descended the steps and stood before Lin Qian.

Though dressed plainly now, his bearing remained as imposing as ever—his back straight, and his left fist clenched tightly at all times.

Sun Ye recognized the posture all too well; it was Lin Qian’s instinctive gesture, the very one that had saved his life countless times—grasping arrows mid-flight with a single hand.

In the fierce battles of old, with the clash of steel and bloodshed raging, having such a prodigy by his side left him fearless and even comforted.

But ever since Lin Qian had been sent to the Imperial Stables three years ago, and through subsequent campaigns, Sun Ye no longer had Lin Qian’s protection at his side, leaving his heart feeling hollow.

Who would have expected that the wounds he had suffered in battle over those three years would surpass the sum of all his injuries from decades in the military?

*Cough, cough!*

Lin Qian coughed heavily twice, his voice like a leaking bellows.

Sun Ye saw this and felt a pang of sorrow, yet Lin Qian bit his lip firmly.

He had already repaid the Westward Conquest Prince’s household for their nurturing and teaching, despite being wrongfully accused and humiliated, forced into servitude for three years without cause.

"Qian’er, three years ago, it was your father’s mistake. Sun Feng only temporarily took your place as heir apparent. Now that you’ve returned, you are the legitimate eldest son of the household. I will restore your status as heir apparent, and you shall inherit the title of Westward Conquest Prince."

Lin Qian listened calmly and almost laughed aloud.

He looked at the Westward Conquest Prince with quiet eyes and smiled faintly, "My lord prince, have you forgotten?"

"Though His Majesty punished me for shattering the Celestial Heart Glaze, my military honors and titles were never revoked."

"Have you forgotten? I still hold the title of Count of Yunshan."

The title of Count of Yunshan was granted to Lin Qian by the emperor himself for his valor and achievements on the battlefield.

Yet, because he was the heir apparent of the Westward Conquest Prince’s household, this title had been insignificant. In fact, Lin Qian had once voluntarily relinquished the lands and revenues attached to the title, retaining only the honorific.

"You..."

Sun Ye stared at Lin Qian in disbelief.

Had he truly lost all interest in the Westward Conquest Prince’s household?

"Qian’er! Now is not the time for your reckless whims! This concerns the legacy of our house!"

"Your brother, Sun Feng, has no battlefield experience nor strategic skill. How could he possibly command the generals after I am gone?"

"Do you expect the three hundred officers and one hundred thousand troops under our banner to simply hand themselves over to the Northern Pacification Prince’s household?"

If the authority vanished, the Westward Conquest Prince’s household would face a blade ready to fall from above at any moment.

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Before the emperor’s decree even arrived, their entire family could be wiped out!

"There is still time. As long as you return and inherit the heirship of the Westward Conquest Prince’s household, all its honor and disgrace will rest upon your shoulders!"

"All the years of toil and cultivation by your father will then belong to you!"

"You’ve always longed for that sword, haven’t you? Bring me the sword!"

"The sword?"

Lin Qian’s eyes flickered.

Indeed, the Pure Jun Sword, forged from the iron of Xishan and tempered by heaven’s thunderfire, was the unparalleled blade he cherished in years past.

Yet his father had always treasured it as well, never wearing it, keeping it locked away in the family treasury.

It was clear that Old Lord Sun Ye was desperate.

But as attendants hastily brought the Pure Jun Sword forward, Sun Ye abruptly pulled back the red cloth covering it, only to cry out in shock.

The Pure Jun Sword, smooth as jade and able to slice through iron like mud, was now stained with rust and utterly devoid of vitality.

As if it had been neglected and forgotten for a long time.

"No, impossible! How could this be?!"

Like a noble spirit buried and wasted, a lifetime of talent rendered useless—though only three years had passed, it was enough to crush a man’s pride utterly.

"Don’t you understand yet, foolish child?"

The sudden reprimand made even Old Lord Sun Ye shudder in disbelief as he turned around.

Before them stood the matriarch, leaning on her dragon-headed cane.

"Mother, you... you came..."

"Grandmother!" Lin Qian gasped, heart pounding as the elderly woman appeared breathlessly before him, and he knelt deeply.

Fury flashed across the old lady’s face.

"You truly are a fool!"

"After twenty years of raising and teaching, do you still doubt that Qian’er is your blood?"

"You brought in a stranger from the common folk and abandoned Qian’er? Are you still a man?"

The dragon-headed cane struck Sun Ye’s chest heavily with each word of scorn.

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Sun Ye was overwhelmed with shame.

But once the matriarch had finished, Sun Ye stubbornly looked at her and said, "Mother, I will go to the palace at once and petition His Majesty to restore Qian’er’s status as heir apparent—no, to officially appoint him the new Westward Conquest Prince!"

Yet even as Sun Ye clung to his mother’s cane, she showed no response.

After a long moment, the matriarch helped Lin Qian to his feet, her gaze clear and voice firm.

"Qian’er, whatever choice you make today, grandmother supports you! If others do not recognize you, I do! You will always be my grandson!"

"Whether you return to the Westward Conquest Prince’s household or start anew elsewhere, grandmother will personally prepare this housewarming gift for you!"

Lin Qian’s throat tightened with emotion.

With the support of his dearest kin, what was there to fear?

"If you want me to go to the palace, I shall. But no need for such fuss—since the moment I left the Imperial Stables, the emperor’s envoy must already be on the way."

"Wait a little longer."

Just then, a sharp, quacking voice rang out from the main gate.

"His Majesty has a decree: Lin Qian, receive the imperial edict!"

Not the Westward Conquest Prince, nor anyone from his household.

Even the surname had reverted to Lin Qian’s original name.

The entire Westward Conquest Prince’s household exchanged glances in stunned silence, save for the matriarch who stood firmly by Lin Qian’s side, gripping his hand.

"Come, grandmother will accompany you to receive the edict!"

"His Majesty decrees that Lin Qian’s three-year term is complete. He hereby restores your original title of Count of Yunshan and appoints you Deputy Commander of the Northern Border’s Dragon Military District!"

"What? The Northern Border Army? And Deputy Commander of the Dragon Military District?"

The Westward Conquest Prince’s household erupted into chaos!

The Northern Border Army was under the command of the Northern Pacification Prince and was one of the emperor’s personal elite forces. The position of Deputy Commander was the highest rank beneath the Commander, who was none other than the reigning emperor himself!