In the main residence of the Marquis estate, the study door closed softly behind Old Marquis Su Yongning, cutting off the faint sound of hoofbeats and the Black Armor Army's orders to stand down drifting in from the courtyard.

Old Marquis Su Yongning walked behind the desk and sat down; the morning light filtering through the lattice window sliced his face into light and shadow.

He reached out and unconsciously stroked the paperweight on the desk.

Empress Su Mingyue sat down opposite him, having already removed her Black Armor.

She wore only a moon-white plain vest, and the mutton-fat jade magnolia hairpin in her hair bun shimmered with a gentle luster in the morning light.

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

Old Marquis Su Yongning also looked at her with a heavy gaze, remaining silent for a long while.

As he looked at the cold yet familiar face before him, another face involuntarily appeared in his mind.

The gentle, submissive Empress Su Mingyue, wrapped in elaborate court attire, sitting before an embroidery frame.

That was the daughter in his memory, the little girl who stood at the gate of the Marquis estate tying his cloak when he set out for the northern frontier.

The young lady of the Marquis estate who obediently learned needlework at the knees of the Marquis of Yongning's wife.

But this Empress Su Mingyue before him, in black armor with a silver spear, holding hundreds of thousands of mighty troops, watched without changing her expression as over thirty corpses lay at her feet.

Old Marquis Su Yongning cursed that damned Kitchen manager in his heart countless times.

He still remembered what that man looked like—sharp-mouthed and monkey-cheeked, thin as a hemp stalk, who used to not even dare to lift his head when following behind Empress Su Mingyue.

Just such a lowly servant, who knew not where he heard those storybooks, told them to his daughter.

He had stubbornly bamboozled a gentle and virtuous Young Miss of the Marquis estate into what she was today.

Stories of a female emperor ascending the throne, and stories of people flying to attack the city of Samarkand.

That Kitchen manager was truly a Genius at storytelling; every story struck exactly at the softest and most dangerous spot in Empress Su Mingyue's heart.

He opened his mouth, wanting to curse something, but realized that the Kitchen manager was not here at this moment.

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

"Mingyue," Old Marquis Su Yongning's voice sounded a few years older than before, carrying the fatigue of someone exhausted after a long journey.

"Father knows your thoughts."

"From a year ago, from the day you brought the tiger tally back to Yongning City from the northern frontier Commanders Residence, your mindset changed."

He paused, his gaze landing on the petal tip of the mutton-fat jade magnolia hairpin in Empress Su Mingyue's hair.

"Father stayed in the northern frontier for twenty years; the greatest wish of my life was for the Youzhou Army to be safe, for the Marquis estate to be safe, and for you to be safe. But Father knows now that this world can no longer remain peaceful."

Empress Su Mingyue did not reply, just listened quietly.

Her hands folded on her lap remained motionless, her spine as straight as a pine.

"The Immortal has appeared, wishing to take three disciples; whether it is true or false, I will not say for now, but this world will definitely fall into complete chaos."

Old Marquis Su Yongning shifted his gaze from her face to the sky outside the window, cut into a square by the courtyard walls.

"Although the Youzhou Army is strong and mighty, a rare hard bone in these chaotic times, we must still be on guard."

"Father just returned from the northern frontier and received several secret reports on the way."

"Liangzhou is already in complete chaos, and Great Yuan and Great Yan are no better."

"These are just external threats, and today this incident happened—over thirty Blood Refining Realm Martial Artists died at your hands."

"The remaining Families are watching, but with the rabbit dying and the fox grieving, they will not just swallow this insult."

"Father has dealt with these people for half a lifetime in the northern frontier; I know their temperaments too well."

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

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

"Father, rest assured, Dongmei has already gone to handle it. As for the remaining Families, I have my own arrangements."

She did not specify what the arrangements were, but her tone was dismissive.

Old Marquis Su Yongning looked at his daughter's confident appearance and suddenly realized that she did not need to explain anything to him.

She did not even need his consent; she was simply politely informing him of the outcome of this matter.

This feeling made an indescribable bitterness surge in his heart.

He wanted to say something, wanted to remind her not to underestimate the enemy, wanted to warn her not to make too many enemies, but when the words reached his lips, he swallowed them back.

What could he say?

Say that the Kitchen manager's bewitching words led you astray?

But that Kitchen manager was no longer in the estate; he had gone to the Endless Forest, and having been gone for half a year without a word, no one knew if he was alive or dead.

Blaming the manager—the person was gone, what was the use of blaming him?

Moreover, he vaguely understood in his heart that Zhou Ming had only handed her a match; the one truly willing to let it burn was Empress Su Mingyue herself.

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

Then he raised his head, looked at Empress Su Mingyue's face, which was calm to the point of being cold, and suddenly said:

"Whatever you want to do, go ahead and do it."

When Old Marquis Su Yongning said this, he felt somewhat powerless himself.

He had been back for half a year, and during this half-year, Empress Su Mingyue had returned the military power to him exactly as it was, with the commander's seal and tiger tally, nothing missing.

He was initially relieved, thinking that his daughter was, after all, sensible.

But after staying in the army for these six months, he gradually noticed something wrong.

His old subordinates still respected him, and when they spoke to him, they were still as respectful as ever.

But whenever the Young Commander was mentioned during discussions, a light he had never seen before would ignite in the eyes of these old veterans who had fought for half their lives.

It was not fear, not flattery, but a heartfelt, almost fanatical conviction.

They talked about the Young Commander's fire attack at the mouth of Qingyun Mountain, and the Young Commander's clever trick to seize the gate at Shunning City.

They talked about the Young Commander collecting the two hundred thousand bones in white robes at Wild Wolf Slope.

That tone, that expression, clearly held a layer of reverence from the bottom of their hearts that exceeded what they felt for the Old Marquis.

He could initially convince himself that this was the old soldiers' expectations and encouragement for the younger generation.

But gradually, he discovered that the military orders he issued needed Empress Su Mingyue's nod to be executed efficiently, while the military orders issued by Empress Su Mingyue were carried out by those old subordinates without even asking.

What made him even more helpless was Empress Su Mingyue's control over the entire Youzhou military and political system.

From the prefect to the magistrate, from the allocation of provisions to the recruitment of new soldiers, from the manufacture of weaponry to the manuals of Sorcery.

The end of every chain was held in her hands.

He sat in the Commanders Residence, overseeing the northern frontier, nominally the supreme commander, but once he needed to mobilize resources for the whole situation, he had to consult with Empress Su Mingyue first.

It was not that Empress Su Mingyue did not give him power, but that the entire system had become accustomed to her rhythm of operation; he could not insert himself, nor could he intervene.

Sometimes in the dead of night, he sat alone in the Commanders Residence study, looking at the tiger tally on the desk, feeling a sense of being hollowed out, as if in a dream.

And today, hundreds of the Black Armor Army instantly killed over thirty Blood Refining Realm Martial Artists with almost zero casualties, which made his scalp tingle even more.

He had fought for decades in the northern frontier and knew deep down what Blood Refining Realm Martial Artists meant.

They were existences on the battlefield that could fight one against a hundred, or even a thousand.

Yet Empress Su Mingyue's Black Armor Army used those Sorcerys he considered useless to slaughter them like chickens, leaving not a single one alive.

He sat in the study, looking at his daughter's calm face, and suddenly understood one thing.