His cold words fell.
Feng Guan trembled all over, unable to utter a single word.
Feng Yan felt utterly exhausted.
Not weary in muscle and bone, but drained in heart and mind.
After half a lifetime on the seas of officialdom, what storms had he not weathered?
Yet this son alone left him helpless.
A father hoped his son would succeed; a son hoped his father would wield power.
But every household had its own difficult scripture to recite, and none of his sons measured up to their father!
"Enough." Feng Yan waved a hand, weariness seeping into his voice.
"It is enough that you have returned to the capital.
The formal betrothal rites for Fu Niang's marriage will take place next month.
As her father, you ought to see to the arrangements.
As for Ci'er...
Rest easy! With Wei Zi here, he will want for nothing all his life..."
Feng Guan lowered his head, his thoughts unreadable.
Feng Yan paid them no mind either. He lifted his tea and drained it in one swallow.
"Go. See Fu Niang. That girl has been talking about you both for a long time."
Feng Guan rose, bowed, and turned toward the door.
After a few steps, he stopped without looking back.
"Father... I am not mediocre.
Back then, you laid out the paths for us three brothers.
The eldest to letters, the next to arms.
But my second brother fell in battle, and my third brother died young as well.
Now I am the only son you have left.
I dare not set foot on that path of 'letters' again!"
When his words faded, Feng Yan was left alone in the main hall.
Outside the window, the snow had begun falling thick and fast again at some point.
Snow piled on