If you die, I will be able to inherit your cultivation.

In the main residence of the Marquis, the door to the study closed gently behind Su Yongning, shutting out the faint sounds of horses' hooves and the commands of the black-armored soldiers to retreat that could be heard from outside the courtyard.

Su Yongning walked behind the desk and sat down. The morning light streaming through the window divided his face into two halves, one light and one shadow.

He unconsciously ran his fingers along the paperweight on the table.

Su Mingyue sat down opposite him, having already removed her black armor.

She wore only a plain white jacket, and the magnolia hairpin in her hair gleamed warmly in the morning light.

She looked at her father calmly, her phoenix eyes devoid of any extraneous emotion.

Su Yongning also stared at her intently, remaining silent for a long while.

He looked at the cool yet familiar face before him, but another face involuntarily appeared in his mind's eye.

Su Mingyue, gentle and demure, sat before the embroidery frame, draped in elaborate palace attire.

That was his daughter from his memories, the little maid who stood at the gate of the Marquis's mansion and tied his cloak when he went to war in the north.

She was a well-behaved young lady from the Marquis's household who diligently learned needlework under the care of the Lady of Yongning.

The Su Mingyue before him, clad in black armor and wielding a silver spear, commanded hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and calmly watched over thirty corpses lying at his feet.

Su Yongning cursed that damned kitchen manager in his heart countless times.

He still remembered what that person looked like: a pointed mouth and monkey-like cheeks, as thin as a stick. He used to follow behind Su Mingyue without daring to raise his head.

This lowly servant, who had heard a story from somewhere, told it to his daughter.

They managed to turn a gentle and virtuous young lady from a noble family into the way she is now.

The story of the empress's ascension to the throne, and the story of the flying men attacking Samarkand.

That kitchen manager was truly a storytelling genius; every story he told hit the softest and most dangerous spot in Su Mingyue's heart perfectly.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found that the kitchen manager was not there at the moment.

His pent-up frustration had nowhere to go, and it finally turned into a heavy sigh.

"Mingyue," Su Yongning's voice sounded a few years older than before, carrying the weariness of someone who had just finished a long journey.

"Father knows what you're thinking."

"Your mindset changed a year ago, the day you brought the Tiger Tally back to Yongning City from the Northern Commander's Mansion."

He paused, his gaze falling on the tip of the magnolia petal on Su Mingyue's hairpin.

"Your father spent twenty years in the northern border. His greatest wish in this life was for Youzhou to be peaceful, for the Marquis's mansion to be peaceful, and for you to be peaceful. But now your father knows that the world can no longer be at peace."

Su Mingyue did not reply, but listened quietly.

Her hands, clasped on her knees, remained motionless, and her back was as straight as a pine tree.

"A celestial being has appeared and wants to take three disciples. Whether it's true or not, the world will definitely be thrown into complete chaos."

Su Yongning shifted his gaze from her face to the square patch of sky outside the window, cut off by the courtyard wall.

"Although Youzhou has a strong army and is one of the few tough guys in this chaotic world, we still have to be wary of it."

"Father just returned from the Northern Border, and received several secret reports on the way."

"Liangzhou is in complete chaos, and the situation in Dayuan and Dayan is not much better."

"These are just external threats. Today, this incident happened again, with more than thirty Blood Refining Realm martial artists dying at your hands."

"The remaining families are watching and waiting, but they will not swallow this insult so easily."

"My father has dealt with these people in the North for half his life, and he knows their temperament all too well."

"They may bow their heads for now, but they will never forget the blood debts of today."

Su Mingyue waited quietly for him to finish speaking before nodding gently and saying:

"Father, rest assured, Dongmei has already taken care of it. As for the remaining families, I will make arrangements for them."

She didn't specify what the arrangements were, but her tone was nonchalant.

Looking at his daughter's confident demeanor, Su Yongning suddenly realized that she didn't need to explain anything to him.

She didn't even need his consent; she was simply informing him of the outcome politely.

This feeling stirred up an indescribable bitterness in his heart.

He wanted to say something, to remind her not to underestimate her enemies, to warn her not to make too many enemies, but the words stuck in his throat.

What could he possibly say?

Did the kitchen manager's seditious talk lead you astray?

But the kitchen manager is no longer in the manor; he went to the Endless Forest and has been missing for half a year. We don't know if he is alive or dead.

Blame the manager; he's gone now, what's the use of blaming him?

Moreover, he vaguely understood that Zhou Ming had merely handed over a match; it was Su Mingyue herself who was truly willing to ignite it.

He remained silent for a long time, his fingers unconsciously tapping the edge of the inkstone, one tap after another, the rhythm getting slower and slower.

Then he raised his head, looked at Su Mingyue's calm, almost indifferent face, and suddenly spoke:

"Go ahead and do whatever you want to do."

When Su Yongning said those words, he himself felt somewhat powerless.

He had been back for six months, during which Su Mingyue returned military power to him in its entirety, including the commander's seal and the tiger tally.

He was initially relieved, thinking that his daughter was ultimately sensible.

But after spending the last six months in the military, he gradually realized that something was wrong.

His old subordinates still respected him, and spoke to him with the same respectful manner.

But whenever the young marshal was mentioned during discussions, a light would light up in the eyes of these rough-and-tumble men who had fought half their lives. He had never seen such a light before.

It was not fear, nor flattery, but a heartfelt, almost fanatical conviction.

They talked about the young marshal's fire attack at Qingyun Pass and his clever plan to seize the city gate at Shun Ning.

They discussed how the young marshal, dressed in white, collected the remains of 200,000 people on Wild Wolf Slope.

His tone and expression clearly conveyed a deeper, more heartfelt respect than he had shown to the old Marquis.

At first, he could convince himself that this was the veterans' expectation and encouragement for the young people.

But gradually, he discovered that his military orders required Su Mingyue's approval to be carried out efficiently, while his old subordinates would carry out Su Mingyue's orders without even asking her.

What frustrated him even more was Su Mingyue's control over the entire military and political system of Youzhou.

From prefects to county magistrates, from the allocation of grain and fodder to the recruitment of new soldiers, from the manufacture of military equipment to the manuals of magic and spells.

She held the end of each chain in her hand.

He was stationed in the Northern Frontier from the Marshal's Mansion, nominally the supreme commander, but whenever he needed to mobilize resources across the entire territory, he had to consult with Su Mingyue first.

It wasn't that Su Mingyue didn't give him power, but rather that the entire system had become accustomed to her operating rhythm, making it impossible for him to intervene.

Sometimes, when the night was still and quiet, he would sit alone in the study of the Marshal's Mansion, looking at the tiger tally on his desk, and he would feel as if he were in a dream, as if he were being sidelined.

Today, the fact that hundreds of black-armored soldiers killed more than thirty Blood Refining Realm warriors in an instant with almost zero casualties made his scalp tingle.

He had fought in the Northern Territory for decades and knew all too well what it meant to be a Blood Refining Realm warrior.

That is the kind of being that can take on a hundred or even a thousand enemies on the battlefield.

But Su Mingyue's black-armored army used those spells that he considered useless to slaughter them like chickens, leaving none alive.

He sat in his study, looking at his daughter's calm face, and suddenly realized something.