Chapter Thirty: Grandfather and Grandson in Accord

Hu Yihu shot him a glare, grabbed the teapot from the table, and took a deep swig. With a cold snort, he said, “You’re no better yourself—nearly gave this old man a heart attack. Now that those eyesores have been driven away, let’s have a proper talk.”

There was a meaningful look in Hu Yihu’s eyes as he glanced at Hu Mo, leaving the younger man feeling vaguely guilty. Still, he was no stranger to tense situations and soon composed himself, replying with a cheerful grin, “Heh, Grandpa, your eyes are sharp as ever. How could I possibly hide any little schemes from you?”

“Bah! Keep talking like that and I’ll really give you a hundred strokes with the stick!” Hu Yihu feigned anger, snatching up a stick as if to beat him.

“Alright, alright, it’s my fault, it’s my fault. Grandpa, don’t be angry. Please, don’t stoop to my level.” Hu Mo smiled apologetically, quickly grabbing the stick and setting it aside.

He had already noticed the great change in Hu Yihu’s attitude toward him. Perhaps, in these past days, Hu Yihu had truly “figured things out.” With everything unfolding as he’d hoped, Hu Mo felt a rare sense of ease.

“Hmph! I’ve no time to quibble with you.” Hu Yihu snorted, rising to his feet and slowly walking toward Hu Mo.

Hu Mo’s heart skipped a beat and he instinctively wanted to step back. Suddenly, Hu Yihu lunged at him, wrapping him in a powerful bear hug.

“Good lad, truly good…” Hu Yihu’s voice trembled. It was as if he had long dwelled in darkness. Only after witnessing Hu Mo’s transformation and hearing Old Fu’s heartfelt words did he begin to emerge, little by little, into the light.

Earlier today, he had been troubled by Sitou Aoyun, but upon seeing Hu Mo, all his displeasure vanished, replaced by a profound sense of satisfaction. He saw, at last, his true hope.

Hu Mo was stunned at first, but then a wave of warmth enveloped his heart. His eyes reddened—it had been so long, so long since he had felt anything like this. In his former world, he had been an orphan, unloved and unwanted, finally becoming a scoundrel despised by all. Even after crossing into the world of Heavenly Dragon, he remained an orphan, bullied and forced to endure humiliation just to survive.

But this time, though he had still lost his parents, he had a grandfather who cared for him. Toward this old man, Hu Mo always felt a deep sense of guilt—for all these years, “he” had broken the old man’s heart.

Cang Ling’s previously disdainful expression gradually faded, and she stood quietly beside Hu Mo. Unnoticed by him, a glint of light flashed at the corner of her eye—a tear, briefly sparkling before it vanished.

Suddenly, Cang Ling’s expression sharpened. Her icy gaze shifted toward the door, and a chilling murderous aura radiated from her.

“Marshal, Young Master, there are a few rats about,” Old Fu said in a low voice, his face revealing a hint of killing intent.

Hu Yihu’s brow furrowed as he slowly released Hu Mo. His fists clenched and loosened, as if struggling to contain his inner rage.

“Deal with it quickly, and keep it quiet,” Hu Yihu instructed in a low voice, his murderous intent clear.

Old Fu nodded slightly and vanished from the room with uncanny stealth. For the King of Bloody Battle, handling a few “rats” was a simple matter. Yet he was unaware that, before he could even step out, Cang Ling had already disappeared from the command tent.

“Mo’er, let’s sit and talk. Leave the rest to Fu. You came looking for me in such a hurry—do you have something on your mind?” Hu Yihu drummed his fingers lightly on the table, his gaze intent on Hu Mo.

Hu Mo nodded. “Yes, I do have some things to discuss. But Grandpa, why don’t you tell me first—what made you so angry today? Did the Sitou family play some new trick?”

“It’s hardly a trick—just as expected.” Hu Yihu had already calmed down, and his tone was much gentler. “That old fox Sitou Aoyun joined forces with several ministers to accuse me at court. Even the families of your so-called friends got involved. I should’ve let those brats suffer a bit more last time.”

He suddenly gritted his teeth, but Hu Mo shook his head. “Grandpa, don’t be angry. Huang Sheng and the others have little say in their families, even if they wanted to help me. The Sitou family is riding high, and apart from our family, the other clans wouldn’t dare oppose them. It’s only natural things turned out this way.”

“Haha, of course I know that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have said it was expected. But the Emperor’s attitude was strange this time—I suspect he’s starting to have doubts. Mo’er, I hear you had another run-in with that wild girl?” Hu Yihu’s face grew serious, his tone heavy.

“Yes, I met her at Drunken Fragrance. I pretended to be dead and scared her off. Maybe she reported it to the Emperor, which could explain his change in attitude. Grandpa, don’t worry—I’ll cooperate with whatever you decide. Playing the ‘possessed’ is easy enough,” Hu Mo said with a grin. Hu Yihu rolled his eyes, but felt somewhat reassured.

“Marshal.” Old Fu lifted the curtain and entered, his brow tightly furrowed.

“What is it? Something went wrong?” Hu Yihu looked at Old Fu, puzzled—surely such a simple task couldn’t go awry.

Old Fu shook his head. “No major problem, Marshal, but something odd happened. Those rats dropped dead before I even did anything. It was truly strange!”

Hu Mo’s face changed slightly. Glancing back, he saw Cang Ling wiping her hands, a look of disgust on her face as if she had just done something unpleasant.

“What are you staring at? Turn around!” Cang Ling said coldly, her voice pitched for Hu Mo’s ears alone, so he had no worry of being overheard.

Chided by her, Hu Mo merely smiled and turned back, finding her unexpectedly amusing.

“Mo’er, what’s the matter? Is there something you want to say?” Hu Yihu frowned, displeased by Hu Mo’s sly grin.

“Ah? Oh, nothing. I just drifted off for a moment. Maybe Fu’s strength is simply too great and those guys too weak—no wonder they died so easily. Now that the rats are gone, let’s continue our discussion,” Hu Mo replied cheerfully, steering the conversation away from the incident.

Hu Yihu grunted in acknowledgment and said calmly, “Mo’er, can you tell me what it is you truly want to do?”

Hu Yihu was conflicted—his loyalty had always lain with the Tianhuo Empire. Though he had harbored some doubts about the royal family due to Hu Meng’s disappearance, he had kept those doubts buried and remained loyal.

If Hu Mo were to confess that his patience was all for seizing the throne, what would he do?

Hu Mo shook his head gently. “Grandpa, I know what you’re thinking, but let me assure you—I may be interested in power, but I would never put you in a difficult position. All I want is for our family to endure, forever. We don’t provoke others, but neither will we let ourselves be bullied. Isn’t that what you wish for as well?”

“If anyone dares harm the Hu family, how can we endure humiliation in silence? Grandpa, don’t you think Father’s disappearance is inextricably linked to certain people?”

“All these years, I’ve been despised as a good-for-nothing—must we really sit here and wait for doom? Or will you only awaken when I, too, vanish like Father?”

“Grandpa, what our family needs is not this slow death, nor petty squabbles with the Sitou clan. I want to see our house rise, so that no one dares to look down on us! We don’t need to pick fights, but we must become strong enough that none would dare provoke us.”

Hu Mo’s fists were clenched, his eyes burning as he looked at Hu Yihu. The old man’s expression flickered between anger, helplessness, and hesitation as a storm of emotions overwhelmed him.

“Marshal, the young master is right! Ever since Young Lord Meng disappeared, I’ve seen a different marshal. Though our family holds power in the army, we’ve been suppressed everywhere else. The Emperor is slowly eroding our influence—if this goes on…” Old Fu’s voice trailed off.

“Enough! Fu, you talk too much!” Hu Yihu shouted, his anger flaring.

Old Fu’s expression changed. He stood frozen, his fingers trembling as he muttered, “Marshal, I spoke out of turn. I’m sorry…”

Hu Mo’s face darkened. He hadn’t expected Hu Yihu’s loyalty to run so deep.

“Grandpa, Fu is absolutely right! Loyalty is good, but yours is blind! I’m not urging you to rebel—I just want the Hu family to truly rise. If the Emperor trusts us, we’ll win him greater glory. But if he turns on us, we must not sit and wait to be destroyed. In Tianhuo, you are a man of merit—why should you accept such treatment? Leave everything to me. I promise not to put you in a difficult spot!” Hu Mo declared, determined to seize his own fate.

Hu Yihu stood in a daze. He looked at the trembling Old Fu and the impassioned Hu Mo, and for a moment, his usually shrewd mind was lost in confusion.

After decades as a general, what had he truly gained? Fame? Fortune? What did any of it matter? His son was missing, and what could he do? As all these thoughts tangled together, Hu Yihu’s values began to waver.

“Perhaps they are right,” he thought, sighing helplessly.

“Do as you will. But Mo’er, remember this—unless there is clear cause, never confront the royal family directly. I don’t care about my own reputation, but your safety is what matters. Ah, the world belongs to the young now. Go ahead—show me who my grandson really is.” The ice on Hu Yihu’s face slowly melted, and a faint smile touched his lips. “But, you’ll have to endure a little hardship.”

That smile sent a warning through Hu Mo. Suddenly, a gust of wind struck him, and before he could dodge, he was kicked clean out of the room.

Old Fu stared in surprise at Hu Yihu; his sorrow diminished considerably.

Hu Yihu laughed, patting Old Fu on the shoulder. “Fu, we dragged him in here for punishment—kicking him out is the best result. Don’t worry. I’ve never forgotten your concerns. When the time comes, nothing will stop you.”

With those words, Old Fu’s face changed dramatically. He nodded heavily, his spirits rising.