The Baroness and the Cheap Father

While the caravan settled into the logistics courtyard, Ye Wei'an had already led Cain into the manor.

The interior of the Firefall Fortress mansion was typical of Cormyr nobility:

Thick, dark oak floors were polished to a mirror finish, and the brass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling were inlaid with expensive fluorite, casting a soft glow that rendered the entire residence solemn and dignified.

Further ahead lay a long corridor, where every few meters stood a marble bust, its pedestal carved with inscriptions praising Sharess, the goddess of nobility.

The walls of the corridor were lined with massive portraits, each depicting a member of the Summerstar Family, allowing anyone who walked the length of it to witness the entire glorious history of the clan.

Ye Wei'an suddenly recalled his predecessor being led by his cheap father as a child to study the family history, identifying each ancestor one by one.

The portrait at the very front was a mustachioed man dressed as an adventurer; his name was Glosgam Xiaxing, the first patriarch of the Summerstar Family. Centuries ago, he had been ennobled, becoming the first in the family to hold a noble title.

The second depicted another ancestor following King Gheorgad to fight against an evil sorcerer lord.

The third was a portrait of a nobleman and his wife.

In the memories of his predecessor's youth, his cheap father would often ask him which ones he liked.

Perhaps due to the innocence of youth, his predecessor had disliked those stiff, formal portraits, finding them far too boring.

But whenever he encountered the narrative paintings—whether they depicted a knight slaying a monster or a general leading troops into battle—he had been deeply fascinated.

Looking back now, his predecessor's intuition had been correct.

The ancestors who earned a place on this corridor with the latter type of painting had essentially all achieved feats that were recorded in the history of the Purple Dragon Kingdom.

And if an ancestor could only be hung with a portrait, it merely proved that aside from their noble status, their life had been entirely unremarkable.

"Every portrait is a reminder that true knights and heroes once lived here." Ye Wei'an paused for a moment before the fourth portrait from the end of the corridor.

This was the portrait of Lord Aslan Xiaxing—in this painting, Lord Summerstar was locked in a great battle with an evil mage.

According to family history, Great-Uncle Aslan had perished alongside the mage in that battle; even Firefall Fortress had been destroyed on the spot, and the nearby residents had suffered heavy casualties, which marked the beginning of the Summerstar Family's decline.

Yet it was precisely his sacrifice that had protected the northeastern region of Cormyr from the evil wizard.

It could be said that Aslan Xiaxing was a hero in every sense of the word.

He still remembered his cheap father saying himself that his life's ambition was to become a hero who guarded the land, just like Great-Uncle Aslan.

That way, after he died, he could have a narrative painting hung in this corridor.

But looking back at his life, he possessed neither great personal martial prowess nor outstanding command ability.

Now that he was over fifty and suffering from a serious illness, that ambition was clearly beyond reach.

"But the descendants of heroes can also be cowards." Ye Wei'an continued walking, looking at the final few portraits. "I suspect that if Ancestor Aslan saw his descendants playing at assassination and collecting land rents, he would probably be so angry he'd crawl out of his grave."

Passing through the corridor, Ye Wei'an ran into a maid hurrying toward him.

She had moon-colored gray hair and exquisite features.

Her figure was taller than the average Cormyr woman, and the tight maid's uniform could not hide her extremely striking curves.

That was Lina, the head maid of the manor, four years older than Ye Wei'an.

In the dark memories of his predecessor, she was one of the few people who had ever shown him a shred of warmth.

"You are... Lina. You look even more spirited and beautiful than you did four years ago." Ye Wei'an stopped and nodded slightly, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

When Lina saw who it was, extreme shock flashed in her eyes. "By my goddess Selune... is it really you, Young Master Ye Wei'an? Welcome home."

Ailian, standing to the side, couldn't help but tug on Ye Wei'an's sleeve. "Young Master, I... I would like to speak with Sister Lina for a moment, please? Just for a little while!"

"Go ahead, but don't neglect your duties." A rare, gentle smile tugged at the corner of Ye Wei'an's mouth.

Ailian cheered, and like a little girl who hadn't grown up, she skipped over to Lina, hooked her arm, and began asking after her well-being.

After settling Ailian, Ye Wei'an continued upstairs.

On the third-floor corridor, he encountered Lady Selina, who had been waiting for a long time.

She had changed into a steady, dark purple gown, and the pearl necklace at her throat shimmered brilliantly.

Their gazes collided in the air, and for that instant, the atmosphere seemed to thicken with intense hostility.

But only a second later, the tension vanished into thin air.

"Oh, Ye Wei'an, my dear child, you have finally returned." Lady Selina wore an impeccable, kindly smile. "Sharess be praised; seeing you grow so remarkably in Suzar, my prayers over these four years were not in vain. Look at these robes—you have become a respectable spellcaster."

As she spoke, she stepped forward and reached out her hand, as if to stroke Ye Wei'an's face.

"I heard you encountered bandits on your way home? I prayed for you at the shrine for an entire night, fearing you might have met with some accident."

"I have never forgotten your concern, My Lady." Ye Wei'an took her fingertips in his hand, his smile equally radiant. "I, too, have worried about Father and you day and night, even capturing a few reckless bandits on the road. I intended to hang them immediately, but remembering this is your territory, I brought them back specifically to ask for your 'judgment' in person."

"Oh? That is truly thoughtful." The corner of Selina's eye twitched imperceptibly. "Seeing you become so sensible, I am sure the Baron will be moved to tears."

The two smiled at each other, their gazes clashing fiercely in the air, and the surrounding atmosphere seemed ready to ignite in this hypocritical warmth.

Standing behind them, Cain felt his scalp tingle.

Although he had been through many battles in the Purple Dragon Order, he felt like a raw recruit when faced with this kind of bloodless social confrontation.

Bidding farewell to the Baroness, Ye Wei'an continued forward.

An elderly man draped in red and white robes, with the emblem of the Morninglord hanging from his chest, bowed his head as he stepped out from before his father's door.

Ye Wei'an recognized him; it was Orion, the Bishop of the Lathander Church in Firefall Valley.

This bishop had been in Firefall Valley for many years and maintained a good relationship with the Summerstar Family, so the original owner of this body had known him since childhood.

"Lathander be praised, Young Master Ye Wei'an, welcome back." Bishop Orion paused, his tone heavy.

"Bishop," Ye Wei'an nodded slightly, "how is my father's condition, truly?"

The bishop shook his head with regret: "The morning light of Lathander must eventually set, Young Master Ye Wei'an. The Baron's life force is fading irreversibly. I have done everything in my power these past few days, and I can only ensure he does not suffer physical pain in his final moments. May the Lord of the Dawn guide his soul."

With that, he let out a sigh and departed down the corridor.

Ye Wei'an pushed open the door, and a thick scent of medicinal herbs mixed with the smell of decay rushed out to meet him.

There was no one else in the room. Heavy velvet curtains blocked the sunlight, and Baron Harandir was sunken into the velvet cushions, his complexion sallow, his once-broad shoulders now appearing hunched and frail.

The old Baron struggled to open his eyes, and his cloudy gaze brightened slightly when it landed on the luxurious, silver-shimmering mage robes.

"Father." Ye Wei'an walked to the bedside and called out softly.

"You've returned..." The old Baron struggled to lift his eyelids, his dim gaze lingering on Ye Wei'an's mage robes for a long time.

"Was the journey back smooth?"

"It was a smooth journey, Father." Ye Wei'an replied calmly, as if the blood and carnage of that day had never occurred.

"That is good, that is good." The Baron coughed laboriously twice, then asked, "And your studies at Suzar? Have you... been getting along well with your classmates?"

"My studies have been fruitful." Ye Wei'an sat down beside him and spoke in a calm tone about his experiences at the Suzar Academy of Magic. He described the magnificent mage towers, the mountains of books and scrolls in the library, and the various miraculous arcane rituals.

The old Baron listened intently, a long-lost smile appearing on his aged face, before he suddenly began to cough violently.

"Are you alright? Would you like some water?"

Ye Wei'an reached out to support his back and snapped his fingers with his right hand.

The empty teacup on the table first floated up, flying before the Baron, then filled with water out of thin air, and finally, the cold water began to emit wisps of heat.

The old Baron watched this display, dazzled, and eagerly drank the water that represented "magic."

"I heard you were ill, so I worked hard at the academy to study some healing spells." After he finished the water, Ye Wei'an continued, "If you are willing, I would like to try them on you."

The old Baron's eyes widened in surprise, followed by a look of gratified relief: "Of course, my child. Sharess preserve us, let me see your skills."

Ye Wei'an extended his hand, his fingertips moving slightly as he chanted an obscure incantation under his breath.

A pure, gentle green light flowed from his palm.

"Lesser Restoration!"

As the magic sank into the old Baron's chest, the Baron's previously rapid breathing became much steadier, and a sickly flush even appeared on his face.

"This feeling... it is truly miraculous." The old Baron let out a long breath, his voice becoming a bit more robust, "Sharess preserve us. I knew those slanderous words were false. They were always whispering in my ears that you were a mediocrity who couldn't even cast a cantrip, and they even wanted me to cancel your tuition... It seems that insisting on sending you to Suzar to study magic against all opposition was the best decision I have ever made in my life. The descendants of the Summerstar Family... should not be trapped in this small patch of land."

The Baron stared at Ye Wei'an, extending a trembling hand as if to touch his cheek, his eyes filled with nostalgia:

"You have grown up, Ye Wei'an... You are more like a man than you were four years ago, and even more handsome." As he said this, the Baron's voice turned gentle.

In that moment, it was as if he were looking past Ye Wei'an's face to see the shadow of another person, "Especially your eyes... they are too similar, exactly like your mother's."

As he spoke, the corners of the old man's eyes grew moist.

At this moment, he seemed lost in the lingering warmth of an old dream, muttering to himself.