Cao Wenzhao stood frozen in place, unable for a moment to grasp the deeper meaning of Cao Zhengxiong's words.
"Father, what do you mean? My sister is gone, and of course we grieve for her. But her son is now the Marquis of Chu. He is your grandson and my nephew. With him there, why should our Cao Family worry about its future?"
Cao Wenzhao said.
Cao Zhengxiong shook his head, his eyes clear and weathered by a lifetime of experience.
"Wenzhao, you don't understand. If your sister were still alive, she would be the one bond between our Cao Family and the Marquis of Chu—a bond of affection, a reason to care."
"With her here, however worthless our Cao Family might be, the Marquis of Chu would show us a little more sincerity and a little more tolerance for his mother's sake."
He paused, his voice growing more bitter.
"But your sister is gone. She has been gone for over thirty years. The Marquis of Chu was raised by his grandfather alone. I fear even his memories of his parents have already grown hazy."
"To him, our Cao Family is nothing more than a group of strangers who suddenly appeared, people he has never had any dealings with. Even with blood connecting us, how deep could that affection be? How much weight could it carry?"
Cao Wenzhao opened his mouth to argue, but his throat tightened, leaving him unable to speak.
He recalled meeting Li Xinge in Green Maple Valley...
Those calm, fathomless eyes, that distant yet commanding tone, that manner which brooked no argument...
There had indeed been none of the warmth or closeness an ordinary nephew would show upon meeting his own uncle.
Cao Zhengxiong looked out the window at the bright moon hanging in the sky.