110. They harmed my parents and kept it from me for eight years.

Gu Fei did not attend the exchange meeting; instead, she was sought out later that evening. She was alone in the courtyard, holding the book *Hua’s Fragrance Manual*, trying to discern something that was both fragrant and slightly poisonous. Unexpectedly, Gu Min arrived, accompanied by Mo Yan and Mo Yuhua.

Fortunately, aware that family shame should not be exposed, Mo Yan remained calm and discreetly sent Gu Min away before pulling up a chair to sit opposite Gu Fei. Mo Yuhua’s gaze swept over Gu Fei and then shifted to his father, clearly puzzled by the strange atmosphere between them.

Mo Yan had no intention of speaking, and Gu Fei ignored him, leisurely flipping through the pages. The scattered notes and the disordered sheets on the desk revealed her thoughts were anything but orderly.

Stroking his black beard, Mo Yan’s eyes scrutinized the sparse words on the white paper, silently committing them to memory. Clearing his throat, he carefully asked, “Why haven’t you returned home?”

Detecting the obvious reproach in his tone, Gu Fei raised an eyebrow. Looking up from the book, she fixed Mo Yan with a half-smile that was anything but friendly and retorted sharply, “Home? Sorry, miss here doesn’t quite understand what the head of the Mo family means.”

Feigning ignorance while harboring deep resentment, a visible bitterness rose from her chest.

As if anticipating her reaction, Mo Yan tapped the desk with his fingers, producing a steady sound and spoke with the authority befitting the family patriarch, “Our ancestral name cannot be changed at will—such an act is tantamount to betraying and destroying one’s ancestors.”

Gu Fei sneered, shaking the book in her hand with casual disdain. “Destroying ancestors? Then why doesn’t the head of the Mo family speak of the beastly acts of fratricide within his own kin?”

At these words, Mo Yuhua’s pupils contracted sharply, looking at Mo Yan in disbelief, struggling to accept Gu Fei’s accusations.

“Impertinent!” Mo Yan slammed his hand on the desk, his fury palpable. “How dare you speak to your elder in such a manner…”

“Silence!”

Before Mo Yan could finish, Gu Fei slammed the book onto the desk, her voice rising with ferocity, cutting him off with biting sarcasm. “Elder? You sold me for ten years! You harmed my parents! You hid the truth from me for eight years! Pray tell, head of the Mo family, which family’s elder are you?”

With each word Gu Fei uttered, Mo Yan’s face paled incrementally, turning from blue-white to a dark, expressionless gloom. Mo Yuhua, who had been silently listening, was too stunned to utter a single word.

His gaze shifted laboriously to Mo Yan, then, with a hesitant and almost unchallengeable tone, he asked slowly, “Father, is what Fei said… true?”

Mo Yan furrowed his brow, staring only at his hands, remaining silent for a long while.

That silence—an unspeakable stillness—became a vast chasm in Mo Yuhua’s eyes, a deep wound piercing through him from bottom to top.

It was a despair born from two decades of deception, swallowing him whole, leaving him utterly devastated.

By now, Gu Fei had perfected the art of appearing calm, even if her heart stirred beneath the surface. She looked at Mo Yuhua with a hint of pity but knew she had no choice but to tear her own dignity to shreds and expose Mo Yan’s scars to the daylight.

If it were possible, she would have preferred Mo Yuhua not to be present today.

“That’s not selling…” After a long pause, Mo Yan finally spoke in a low, weary voice, burdened by years of accumulated fatigue, as if a massive stone pressed down on his back, bending him further with each moment.

“Your talent is the finest among all the children. Being accepted into the main household for training was the best fate for you.” He forced a smile, but it was stiff and hollow.

Gu Fei’s cold laugh was unshaken by Mo Yan’s demeanor. “The best fate, huh? To become the ‘playmate’ of Mo Qingge, the legitimate eldest daughter of the Mo family in the capital?”

She deliberately emphasized the word “playmate,” staring unblinkingly at Mo Yan. Sure enough—

Mo Yan’s face changed, a mix of hidden anger, embarrassment, and discomfort.

Like a lightning bolt slicing through the fog, Gu Fei’s heart cleared instantly. Her probing had borne fruit: when the old Madam Mo took her to the main household, it was ostensibly to be Mo Qingge’s playmate, but in reality, it was to be used as a pawn in a sordid scheme. Mo Yan was, unsurprisingly, aware of this despicable arrangement.

Her anger flared higher, and the chill around her intensified.

At this moment, Mo Yuhua spoke, “Playmate? How could it be just a playmate? Father, haven’t you always told me that Fei fell gravely ill on the way to the capital and died because no remedy could save her?”

That was why he had believed Fei was dead from the start, grieving for many years. When he accidentally heard news of Fei from Mo Cheng and confirmed her identity, he had refrained from questioning it, thinking it was a painful topic best left undisturbed.

But before Mo Yan could answer, Gu Fei burst into wild laughter, shaking the very clouds in the sky. Only when tears welled in her eyes did the laughter subside.

“The head of the Mo family’s methods are truly extraordinary. Was the tragic death of my parents also a deception perpetrated against the entire Mo family?”

“What?” Mo Yuhua took a step back, feeling numb. Everything he believed had shifted today. His father, who had taught him to act honorably and remember the words of sages since childhood—

But the words Gu Fei spoke, one after another, overturned everything he knew. The man before him, visibly aging, was revealed as a hypocrite like so many others.

This blow was catastrophic for Mo Yuhua.

“No, your parents’ matter has nothing to do with me,” Mo Yan, pale but resolute, tried to explain. His gaze dark and inscrutable as he looked at Gu Fei. “They were killed by bandits on the road to fetch you home. When I arrived, it was already too late.”

Gu Fei closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, her eyes were icy glaciers stretching infinitely.

“Do you want me to tell you everything, step by step?”

She continued, “You know I was chosen by Old Madam Mo for my talent in ink-making and taken to the capital to be Mo Qingge’s playmate. My parents, desperate to see me, intended to bring me home. You deliberately obstructed them and feared anyone learning of my role as Mo Qingge’s playmate. In the end, on their way to the capital, you secretly poisoned them. For eight years afterward, my brother and I exchanged letters with home yearly, but you even forged my father’s handwriting in your replies, making us believe our parents were safe. Little did we know, they had long since perished and turned to dust!”

Each word was a gem of truth, each sentence dripping with grief. With every phrase, Mo Yan’s face paled further, his long eyes filled with guilt.

Mo Yuhua remained unmoved, as if he had both absorbed and yet ignored Gu Fei’s words.

“That’s not how it is…” Mo Yan’s brows twisted in pain, his voice like a desperate trapped beast, filled with unspeakable sorrow. “I imitated your father’s handwriting to write to you and your brother every year, hiding the truth from you. But I couldn’t prevent Mo Hui’s death—he left alone in the night…”

At this point, Mo Yan abruptly snapped back to alertness and fell silent, no longer speaking.

A fierce gleam flashed in Gu Fei’s eyes, her pale face growing even more ruthless. Mo Yan had inadvertently revealed a critical piece of information, and she remembered every word.

“No, you are the mastermind, the murderer of your own blood! Worse than a beast!”

She pressed, hoping to draw out more.

But Mo Yan sealed his lips tightly, staring at her with an unreadable expression. After a long moment, he said with a dull face, “Move out of the Gu family. I will find someone to take care of you outside, ensuring you live out your days safely.”