Volume One: The Emperor’s Sword Chapter 46: Defying Convention

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Arriving outside the Sword Palace, Yun Que saw an elderly man with white hair but a spirited demeanor.

“Greetings, Marquis.” The old man bowed respectfully as soon as he saw Yun Que.

“No need for formalities. Speak directly,” Yun Que replied curtly.

His attitude was clear: I have no time for pleasantries. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I won’t accompany you.

“My master requests the Marquis to visit the residence for a discussion,” the old man explained his purpose without preamble, understanding Yun Que’s meaning immediately.

Yun Que looked at the old man and smiled. “There is much to be done in the Sword Palace. I truly have no time to spare. Please inform Uncle Mu that when I am free, I shall certainly visit with generous gifts.”

Though expressed politely, his meaning was simple: I don’t have time.

Yun Que had no fondness for the Mu family. Ever since his father died defending the border, the Mu family, despite their betrothal, had ignored him, as if he no longer existed. Now they sent someone to invite him—clearly, a weasel wishing a chicken a happy New Year—no good intention at all.

Yun Que could sense looming trouble from the Mu family. He had the best response: ignore them entirely.

Whatever your schemes, I simply won’t go. What can you do about it?

With that, Yun Que turned to leave.

The old steward, caught off guard, quickly called out, “Marquis, please wait!”

Helpless, Yun Que stopped and glanced back.

This steward had served Mu Qingzhou for many years and was no ordinary man in terms of experience and insight. He quickly grasped Yun Que’s thinking and forced a smile.

“Forgive me for not making it clear. It isn’t just my master who wishes to see you—my young lady also wishes to meet with the Marquis.”

The old steward’s mind was shrewd. At first, he’d only mentioned his master, but seeing the response, he had to add the young lady, hoping to draw Yun Que in.

Seeing Yun Que hesitate, the steward felt reassured. Heroes always falter before beauty, and even more so a young lad. I’m an old fox—surely this cub won’t escape my grasp!

Inwardly smug, the steward maintained a respectful expression, waiting for Yun Que to comply.

“Mu Qingyao wants to see me? Why?” Yun Que asked.

“My young lady wishes to return the clothing she borrowed from the Marquis. The garments have been washed and are waiting in her chamber,” the steward replied with a practiced smile.

Such an obvious hint—what young man could resist?

The steward was certain the Marquis would not only come with him but would hurry ahead.

“That set of clothes? She may keep them,” Yun Que said grandly, waving his hand. “If she doesn’t care for them, burn them. I only wear new clothes, never old.”

With that, he strode into the Sword Palace without looking back.

Outside the Sword Palace, the old steward’s face still wore a humble smile, but the corners of his eyes twitched uncontrollably.

This fellow!

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He doesn’t play by the rules!

Mu Residence, Main Hall.

Around a large circle of chairs sat over a dozen elders, most with snow-white hair, some with even their eyebrows turned white.

Despite their advanced years, all exuded a powerful aura of nobility, their gazes sharp and clear.

These elders were heads of the Mu family’s various branches, each presiding over a fortune, true titans among the aristocracy.

By midmorning, the elders were growing impatient.

One, leaning on a cane, spoke first: “Qingzhou, you’ve gathered us old men here—what important matter do you have to announce?”

This was Mu Qingzhou’s third uncle, Mu Gui, who held great authority in the family. The elder generation all looked to him as their leader.

“It’s not yet time. Please savor this pot of Pre-Rain Spirit Pine tea, Uncle. Even I can rarely bear to drink it myself,” Mu Qingzhou replied with a smile, pouring tea for each elder.

Hearing it was Pre-Rain Spirit Pine tea, even these wealthy men were visibly moved.

This was no ordinary tea, but a spiritual brew infused with energy—not something gold or silver could buy, but acquired only through spirit stones.

For mortals, it did not increase spiritual power as it did for cultivators, but it was said to extend life.

Mu Gui nodded, ceased his questioning, and began savoring the tea.

With this gesture, Mu Qingzhou bought himself time, appearing composed but inwardly anxious.

The old steward, his longtime aide, had never failed him before, yet today still had not brought Yun Que.

Just as he was thinking this, Mu Qingzhou saw the steward hurrying into the courtyard—alone.

Mu Qingzhou’s brow furrowed. He rose and left the hall.

“Where is he?” Mu Qingzhou asked in a low voice.

Head bowed, the steward recounted what had happened—he’d failed to persuade Yun Que.

Mu Qingzhou listened, unable to decide whether to laugh or cry.

He had never imagined that, with all his status and influence—even emperors received him without delay—he could not even persuade a young marquis to visit.

And this was his own future son-in-law.

“That boy from the Yun family doesn’t know what’s good for him! He dares show no respect to my master!” the steward grumbled, his composure lost for once.

“To respond to all changes by remaining unchanged—I underestimated him,” Mu Qingzhou said, not blaming Yun Que, but regarding him with a newfound respect.

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He must have sensed trouble from the steward’s words, and so simply refused to come.

Such keen insight is hard to believe in one so young.

Waving the steward away, Mu Qingzhou walked to the inner quarters and knocked on Mu Qingyao’s door.

“Yao’er, your father needs your help.”

Upon seeing his daughter, Mu Qingzhou was direct, using the word “help.”

Mu Qingyao’s expression changed; she stood up immediately.

She had always been distant with her father, yet filial piety remained her guiding principle. To hear her father ask for help—she could not refuse.

“Whatever you require, Father, your daughter will not disobey.”

Mu Qingzhou nodded, his voice earnest. “Bring Yun Que to the Mu residence.”

Mu Qingyao was stunned, thinking she had misheard.

“Bring Yun Que home? Just send a servant to the Sword Palace to notify him. Why do you need me?”

“I sent someone, but he refused to come.”

“Then forget it. He’s not a distinguished guest—we’ll save on tea,” Mu Qingyao muttered in annoyance.

“I have important business with him—very important,” Mu Qingzhou said, gazing at his daughter with deep affection.

It had been a long time since he’d spoken at such length with her. Over the years, their meetings had grown rare, especially after she entered the Sword Palace. Even when she did return, they exchanged only a few words.

“Your mother’s death was my fault. I failed you both. But this time, you must help me bring Yun Que here.”

Mu Qingzhou’s loving expression faded, replaced by grave solemnity. “Because this matter concerns the very survival of the Mu family.”

Mu Qingyao was shocked.

The father she knew was always in control, able to laugh and converse with anyone—she had never seen him like this.

In her eyes, he was no longer the lofty head of the Mu family, but a lonely, helpless middle-aged man.

Only she could help her father now.

“I understand, Father. I will bring Yun Que here,” Mu Qingyao replied solemnly, then left at once, soaring into the sky on her sword, heading for the Sword Palace.