Surprise!

"Heh... heh-heh... heh-heh..." Delon instinctively reached out and gripped his wife's wrist, ragged, rasping gasps rattling in his throat. He had words to say, questions to ask, but under the surge of overwhelming emotion, he seemed to have momentarily lost the ability to speak—like a driver who suddenly forgot which pedal beneath his foot was the brake and which was the accelerator. Madame Tangli was not angry, nor did she rush him. She simply let her husband clutch her wrist. Seeing such a reaction from him did not surprise her in the slightest. Karen's appearance represented not only hope for the future, but redemption for the past. At an age where it was far better to count the years backward from the end rather than forward from the beginning... Receiving a surprise like this, no amount of excitement could ever be considered excessive. Tears began to spill from the corners of Delon's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he released his wife's wrist and started wiping at his eyes, but the more he wiped, the less he could stop them, and the redder his eyes became. In the end, he sank into a crouch, burying his face in his hands. His body began to tremble as silent sobs wracked his frame. Madame Tangli knelt down as well, wrapping one arm around her husband's neck while gently stroking his head with her other hand. Throughout their lives—from falling in love to marriage, and across the half-lifetime they had walked together—Delon had almost never held the dominant status of a patriarch in a traditionally conservative noble household. Yet he had always fulfilled his responsibilities as a husband and head of the family while strictly upholding his faith. One could say he had not done well enough, but no one could claim he had not given it his absolute all. If his wife had not been a woman like Madame Tangli, he truly would have been an exceptional head of the family. A man like this almost never cried. Thus, when an occasion finally demanded his tears, his total lack of experience made it look awkward, clumsy, and utterly undignified. After a long time, Delon finally lifted his head from his wife's embrace. Wiping his face with his sleeve, wearing an expression where a smile was beginning to emerge while his weeping had yet to fade, he asked, "Is it true?" It was a foolish question. The reason he had lost his composure so completely earlier was precisely because he knew that if the words came from his wife's mouth, they had to be true. He knew her family's lineage all too well. The Arte family bore the blessing of the God of Eternity and possessed the keenest sensitivity toward blood relations! Even so, he still wanted to ask again. He still wanted to hear an affirmative answer from her own lips. He was terrified that this was all a dream—a dream where he had caught a butterfly in his hand, terrified that the moment he woke, his palm would be empty. Madame Tangli smiled gently. "Delon Guman, I am telling you with utmost formality: Karen is our daughter's son. He is your biological grandson." "Heh... heh-heh-heh... Hahahaha!" Delon gently pushed aside his wife's supporting hands and plopped down onto the floor, laughing unrestrainedly. An isolating barrier sealed this workshop; there was no need to worry about the commotion being overheard outside. When his laughter finally subsided, Delon pointed an index finger at his wife. Immediately realizing that pointing was somewhat disrespectful to her, he curled his finger into a fist instead and shook it at her. "Darling, you've known for a long time, haven't you? You knew Karen's identity ages ago, didn't you? Since... since..." Delon began rapidly scouring his memories, recalling every single interaction between his wife and Karen. To his astonishment, those subtle clues could actually be traced all the way back to their very first meeting! Back then, at the dining table, his wife had grabbed Karen's hand and refused to let go. At the time, he hadn't thought anything of it. Karen was handsome, well-mannered, had helped their family, and was good friends with their grandson; it seemed entirely natural for his wife to take a liking to such a promising junior. Looking back now, he had been a fool—a colossal fool! "The very first time Karen visited our home, you recognized him!" Delon's voice boomed—not out of rebuke, but sheer envy. Yes, deep, burning envy! She hadn't pieced it together through clues and deduction; she had recognized him at first sight! Madame Tangli nodded. She deliberately averted her gaze from her husband to look at the formation diagram on the wall, as if this veteran warrior had suddenly developed a profound scholarly interest in arrays in her old age. In an utterly nonchalant tone, she replied, "That's right." "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why on earth didn't you tell me sooner!" Delon demanded loudly. Why did you get to toss and turn in bed at night, grinning like an idiot, without letting me in on it? Why did you get to savor the joy all by yourself instead of sharing it with me! Think of all the happiness and joy I missed out on! "Karen's identity is rather sensitive. I was worried that if I told you, you might report your own grandson." Hearing this explanation, Delon shot to his feet in indignation, glaring at his wife as he shouted, "Do you take me for an idiot? Why would I report my own grandson? He's my flesh and blood! How could I ever do something like that? How could you think so poorly of me?!" Faced with her husband's sudden burst of "dominance," Madame Tangli wasn't intimidated in the least. She stood up as well, extended an index finger, and poked him in the chest. Then she poked him again, and again. Each poke sent the old man stumbling backward, unable to keep his footing. In other households, "If you cross the line, I can crush you with a single finger" was an exaggerated figure of speech. In the Guman household, it was a statement of literal fact. At close quarters, his wife truly could poke him to death with one finger. As for why they would be at close quarters... they were husband and wife; they slept in the same bed. "I say, shouldn't you reflect on yourself first and consider why you gave us that impression?" "I..." Delon choked on his words. Having spent the better part of his life serving as her whetstone, he obediently accepted her reprimand and began examining his conscience. "Delon, Karen is my grandson. He lost his mother at an early age and carved out a path here all on his own. He has suffered a great deal. That is why I will not allow anyone to harm him under my watch—not even you." "I wouldn't. I never would." Delon bit his lip. "I'll protect him, even if it costs me my life!" Madame Tangli shrugged dismissively. "From the looks of it, he doesn't seem to need your life to protect him. If anything, I suspect your promotion to bishop was something he went out of his way to secure for you." Delon frowned. "When you said that before, I didn't believe it. But now that you bring it up again, it suddenly makes complete sense. That must be what happened." The bishop previously responsible for the regional array departments had indeed committed an infraction, but it hadn't been particularly severe. It was only because the region's upper echelons had been thrown into turmoil at the time, leading to a wave of dismissals, that the man was pulled down. Thinking back, wasn't that his own grandson pulling strings to get his grandfather promoted! At the thought, a smile returned to the corners of Delon's mouth. Karen was truly thoughtful. Immediately after, his smile faded. He suddenly realized that needing his grandson's help just to secure a promotion was downright embarrassing for a grandfather! "For now, all you need to do for him is keep this secret safe. Because if you haven't noticed, Karen has been the one helping the Guman family all along. "He saved Aisen and Kaixi, cured Aisen's condition, promoted Richard, and helped you become a bishop. In truth, your Guman family hasn't given him anything substantial in return. "Even last night, when I dragged you along to intervene... whether you came, or whether I came, wouldn't have made much difference. You saw it yourself: Karen resolved the entire matter effortlessly using his own power. "Delon, I only hope you stay clear-headed and remember the words you just said. Remember them forever. "You are his grandfather first; only after that are you a devotee of the God of Order. "I warn you: if you disappoint me on this..." Madame Tangli's gaze turned chillingly cold. "I swear, I will end you with my own hands—using the very kitchen knife I've used to cook your meals for half a lifetime." "You're worrying over nothing, my dear." Delon did not argue heatedly, taking deep breaths instead. "I have faith that my, Delon's, grandson will never do anything to violate Order. "Even if the High Priest himself told me to my face that he did, I would only assume the High Priest was mistaken." Madame Tangli looked at her husband in genuine surprise and chuckled. "Old man, this is the first time I've realized you could actually be this clever." In a single stroke, he had completely resolved the conflict between faith and family: by firmly believing that a conflict could never exist in the first place. "Then... our daughter didn't die during that special mission?" When their daughter met with disaster, he was certain she hadn't been pregnant. Even in the most extreme scenario where she had secretly conceived with a lover and wasn't showing yet, she couldn't possibly have delivered a child in the mission area in such a short window of time. Therefore, he wasn't naive enough to assume that since their grandson was alive, their daughter might still be living. After all, he knew full well why his son had developed mental trauma. Madame Tangli shook her head. "No. The situation back then was dire—a certain death trap. But among her companions, one person's father was extraordinarily powerful. He personally entered that place to rescue his son, and brought our daughter out along the way. "Afterward, to repay the debt of saving her life, our daughter married his son and gave birth to Karen." Delon was speechless. If the woman standing before him weren't his lifelong wife, the old man would have snapped: *Are you joking with me?!* Madame Tangli smacked her lips and added, "Though personally, I think our daughter must have fallen for the boy before that mission. From what I observed back then, her behavior around the house was noticeably unusual; she even learned to daydream. "That look on her face was just like mine back when we were young, whenever you went home and left me alone, sitting on the seaside rocks thinking about..." Madame Tangli cut herself off. "I don't follow. You're saying our daughter already had a boyfriend back then?" "Yes, most likely. They had intended to be together all along. The kind of young lovers who would have chosen to elope even if a father like you disapproved." "How is that possible!" "Didn't you plan on giving up everything to run away with me back then? And just look at Richard and that girl from the Felscher family. Your Guman family truly has a tradition of this." If the person who had handed over her personal saber right in front of her eyes to that repulsive Felscher family hadn't been her own grandson, anyone else would have been pulverized into mincemeat by now. "No, no, that's not what I'm asking. I believe Karen was born of my daughter's own free will; the child carries no malice or resentment in him. "What I'm asking about is that 'along the way' you mentioned earlier. What kind of place was that, where someone could just stroll in and casually rescue people on the side?" Madame Tangli spread her hands. "That's even easier to explain. Just because you as a father couldn't do it doesn't mean another father couldn't." "I..." "Even though they were rescued, both of them were contaminated because of that special mission. That man tried every conceivable method to suppress their contamination, but in the end, he still couldn't save them. "Even so, he gave them a wonderful period of time together. We should take comfort in knowing that our daughter happily married the man she loved, gave birth to her son, and saw him learn to walk with her own eyes. "In the final chapter of her life, our daughter was very happy. "And in her final moments, her husband departed with her. They were not lonely, and they never will be." "Then why... didn't they send word home?" "You investigated that special mission yourself; you ought to know its clearance level and the kind of secrets buried within it. That secret is something only the highest tier in the temple has the right to know, isn't it? "Have you forgotten the obstruction and warnings you faced when you looked into it? "Not contacting home was to keep disaster from falling upon this family. She missed home, but her longing was channeled into protecting us. "Besides, I can tell you with certainty: contamination that even that man could not resolve must have involved the ultimate secrets—very likely related to a god." Delon pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. Finally, he asked the crucial question: "Who was the person who rescued our daughter?" Who could have pulled people out of a place like that, and saved two at once? Who could have prolonged the lives of victims bearing that level of contamination? And who... would dare conceal such a colossal secret without fear of discovery? Madame Tangli clapped her hands lightly and answered offhandedly, "You know him too. It was Diss." Delon's entire face froze once more. This time, he finally gathered the courage to point a finger—at his wife's shoe. "So... Karen's family name is..." "Inmeles." *** Upstairs in the living room, Inquisitor Dake was in high spirits after having his pressing dilemma resolved. Some people wracked their brains trying to exploit nepotism and connections, but for Inquisitor Dake, he truly loathed turning to the Guman family unless absolutely necessary. Many of his colleagues envied him for having a Jurist wife and having the Guman family as his in-law backing, but only he knew the bitterness and pressure that came with it. How he wished everything about his wife remained the same, except that she was merely an ordinary servant—or even just a regular person. He felt happy and content at the tribunal, bustling about work or chatting daily with his subordinate servants, whereas coming to the Guman household always felt like stepping onto an execution ground. Yet these thoughts had to remain buried deep in his heart, never to be voiced to anyone, not even his wife. Whenever such notions crossed his mind, a heavy wave of moral guilt would wash over him. His outstanding wife, who hailed from such a prestigious background, had already sacrificed so much for the fragile self-esteem of a good-for-nothing husband like him! As his wife, she had never looked down on him. What right did he have to be so sensitive? To repay her, he never made excuses to avoid visiting the Guman household. He showed up faithfully for every holiday, even though he knew he had the least presence at the dining table. Still, he would repeatedly take the initiative to speak, doing his best to liven up the family atmosphere for his wife's sake, even if he came across as foolish—like an awkward joke. Richard was actively chatting with his uncle-in-law, talking about work and venting about everyday troubles. Inquisitor Dake found it deeply comforting. By current standing, his nephew was already the Director of the Whip of Order Office and actually outranked him. Yet such a conversation gave him a strong sense of involvement, knowing that his nephew was genuinely willing to listen to his work experience. Karen sat on the other side of the sofa, leafing through a newspaper. He did not join the conversation, as his participation would only disrupt the easy mood. Mr. Aisen walked out of the kitchen holding a glass of water. Richard instinctively rose to take it, as he happened to be thirsty, and this unexpected burst of paternal affection touched his heart. Yet Mr. Aisen walked right past him. Seeing this, Inquisitor Dake stood up. As Aisen's peer, he said politely, "You're really too kind..." However, the glass of water didn't end up in Dake's hands either. Instead, Aisen set it down before Karen. Dake found nothing amiss with this. It seemed his brother-in-law's condition truly had improved, and quite remarkably so. "Thank you." Karen reached for the glass, only to see Mr. Aisen produce another small cup and tip the ice cubes inside into his water. "You like ice water." "Yes, thank you." Karen lifted the glass and took a sip. Indeed, to prompt someone with severe social anxiety like Mr. Aisen to go this far, only a maternal uncle's profound affection for his nephew could explain it. Just then, Madame Tangli emerged from the basement and called to Karen, "Karen, the old man wants you to come downstairs. He has something to tell you." "Alright, Grandma." Karen set down his water glass, stood up, and smoothed his clerical robe. Once ready, Karen walked toward the basement stairs. As he passed Madame Tangli, she whispered, "The old man is busy washing his face right now." "Heh." Karen smiled. Madame Tangli gave him a warm, tender smile. "Thank you for indulging him." She knew Karen disliked this sort of fuss, and that he was largely doing it out of respect for her. After all, who would go out of their way to acknowledge a grandfather—especially one who had never helped him, needed his assistance instead, and hadn't raised him for a single day? Karen's willingness to play along touched her deeply. Karen descended the stairs and entered the workshop. Behind the workshop desk, Delon sat upright and solemn, his hair still damp. Delon stood up, but his footing faltered and he pitched forward, barely catching himself on the desktop with both hands to keep from sprawling across it. He immediately righted himself, bracing one hand against the desk while raising the other toward Karen. He pulled it back, moved to wave, and pulled it back again. "You..." "I..." "Well..." The meticulous array master looked like a defective puppet crafted at Lemar Pottery Studio, his movements and speech completely out of sync. Karen understood Delon's state of mind. At a time like this, any amount of words paled before a simple, concrete action. He opened his palm. Above it, an exquisite Rubik's cube materialized, rotating with an elegant, rhythmic grace. Delon's eyes lit up with intense excitement, and a look of stunned delight spread across his face. Finally, his tongue unknotted. Opening his arms wide, he shouted at Karen, "Karen, you're my grandfather!"