Otherworld Advance Team-Chapter 1805 - 1798: Biological Father

"Sister, hehe..."

Upon hearing this familiar address, Tangmo showed a satisfied smile and reached out to embrace Feng by the waist.

Regardless of anything, Feng decided to go; she very much wanted to know the secret she carried.

The Advance Team had been discussing her identity, which sparked deep curiosity about her origins.

Princess? Am I really a princess? If I am a princess, then why have I ended up in the Western Continent?

Seizing a moment when Tangmo and Baiyue weren’t paying attention, Feng quietly went to the gate and left the Mansion.

Of course, she couldn’t just shake off the Forbidden Army responsible for security. So, shortly after she walked out the door, two plainclothes soldiers followed her, matching her pace, covertly trailing behind.

Feng was aware someone was following her but didn’t mind. Since the other party wanted to see her, they should have considered this.

The Advance Team was a favored guest of the Wen Family’s Imperial Court, with Forbidden Army protection wherever they went. Evidently, the other party should have anticipated this beforehand.

On the back of the letter was a meticulously drawn map. Feng navigated through streets and alleys according to the map’s paths.

The Forbidden Army continued to follow diligently, but just as they turned a corner, they staggered as if bewitched, collapsing against the wall, unable to continue the pursuit.

Feng couldn’t care less, continuing through streets and alleys as indicated by the map, eventually arriving at a secluded alley.

Sensitive to auras, she quickly realized she was surrounded, with several burly men appearing on both sides of the alley, staring at her intently.

Faced with the situation, Feng wasn’t the slightest bit flustered. Instead, she placed her hand on the hilt at her waist, slowly drawing out the Kedal metal blade.

"Young Master, wait, we are not enemies." Seeing Feng’s reaction, the leading burly man quickly raised a hand to stop her.

"Who are you?"

Feng looked around without stopping, only slowing the speed at which she drew her blade.

"We act under the command of the Superior Lord, specially waiting here for the Young Master’s arrival." The leading man said, clasping his hands.

"Superior Lord?"

"Young Master, please follow us into the mansion to pay respects to the Superior Lord, you will then know everything." The man explained.

"Have him come to see me." Feng said coldly.

"This..." The man exchanged glances with the others, speaking in a difficult manner, "Young Master, please don’t make things hard for us. The city is full of literary thieves’ spies, if the Superior Lord appears, there’s fear of information leaking and drawing the Imperial Court’s hounds."

Literary thieves are a derogatory term the Wu Family uses for members of the Wen Family. In comparison, the Wen Family’s term for the Wu Family is relatively mild, typically calling them martial men.

"Why should I trust you? If you want me to come, you should show sincerity."

It has to be said, joining the Advance Team these few years has greatly improved Feng’s language logic. Although she rarely spoke normally, she had learned a thing or two about assertive speech tactics.

The men exchanged glances again, suddenly facing Feng and kneeling in unison, with the lead man clasping his hands and saying, "Our loyalty can be verified by heaven and earth. We only ask that the Young Master believe us, if the Young Master has doubts, we are willing to cripple our own meridians to earn the Young Master’s trust."

To the Wu Family, crippling one’s meridians is a very serious statement.

It’s known that crippling one’s meridians is irreversible, meaning once the decision is made, there’s absolutely no turning back.

Hearing their words, Feng couldn’t help but be moved.

Perhaps joining the Advance Team for too long caused her to lose the initial coldness, instead developing more empathy towards the world.

After a moment of silence, she sheathed her sword with a clang and coldly addressed the stunned men: "Lead the way, if you dare play me for a fool, don’t blame me for being ruthless."

"Thank you, Young Master, for your trust." The men said gratefully, standing up one after another.

Before setting off, Feng instinctively touched the Shock Bomb at her waist. If they truly encountered some unforeseen situation, she’d detonate the Shock Bomb and take advantage of the chaos to withdraw.

Under the men’s escort, she cautiously navigated through streets and alleys, arriving at a mansion gate.

The man opened the gate and respectfully guided her inside. Their actions were so respectful, as if Feng was truly their Young Master.

Feng entered the mansion somewhat anxiously, arriving at the spacious main hall. The men followed to the entrance but didn’t enter, instead guarding outside, heightening Feng’s concern.

Not long after, an elder emerged from the shadows, his cloudy eyes lighting up at the sight of Feng’s figure. However, upon seeing the mask of the Ghost Race on her face, his eyes instantly dimmed.

"Could you be the White Tiger under the seat of the Saint?" The elder asked respectfully, clasping his hands.

"It is I."

Feng nodded.

Upon hearing a female voice, the elder relaxed slightly and continued, "I beg the Manor Lord to remove the mask, allow me to behold the Manor Lord’s esteemed visage."

"What do you want to do?" Feng asked warily.

"Please don’t misunderstand, I just want to confirm the Manor Lord’s identity." The elder said, waving his hand.

After a moment’s hesitation, Feng took a deep breath, slowly removing the mask. In the instant of seeing Feng’s face, a peculiar gleam burst from the elder’s eyes, a look of surprise slowly emerging on his face.

"It’s you, it’s you, he really didn’t lie to me, you truly came back, Ying’er..." the elder exclaimed in a lost voice, his eyes reddening as he started to sob.

"I’m not Ying’er!" Feng instinctively replied.

"Ying’er, I am your father, do you remember..." The elder asked with a sobbing tone.

"Impossible, impossible!" Feng widened her eyes, shaking her head uneasily.

"When you were still in swaddling clothes, you were pursued by literary thieves. I followed the genius strategist’s advice, sending you away with secret techniques. The genius strategist said you would definitely come back to find me; I’ve waited so many years, finally hoping you back." The elder explained, wiping his tears.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Feng started to panic, shaking her head incessantly.

"Ying’er, I know you have no memory of me, after all, you were only half a year old then. But don’t forget, you are a descendant of the Royal Family’s Bailong Clan, you are a princess of the Tiansheng Dynasty!"

"Impossible, impossible, don’t lie to me!" Feng became agitated, drawing her long sword with a clang and pointing it at the elder.

The elder didn’t flinch, continuing to explain: "What you practice is the imperial technique, a skill only the Royal Family can learn. Any expert who spars with you can recognize this technique."

"No wonder..."

After hearing the elder’s explanation, Feng suddenly understood.

So it was true, her technique was indeed the Royal Family’s technique. No wonder the General who sparred with her could recognize her; no wonder Huayu Ting could also recognize her identity. So that’s it, so that’s it.

"You, you, you are..."

"I am your father, Prince Bailong An!" The elder said.

"No, no, it’s not real, I... I..."

Feng’s hand holding the sword gradually dropped, her body started to curl as she sat down, trembling all over, apparently unable to believe this fact.

"Daughter, you’ve had a hard time these years..."

As Bailong An spoke, he was about to approach Feng, only to be stopped by the sword she held horizontally.

"Don’t come closer, don’t, don’t..." Feng trembled, clutching her sword, sobbing.

"I know you can’t accept this all at once, it’s fine, it’s fine, your father understands you. Your father is willing to give you time, stay by my side, don’t leave, okay?" Bailong An earnestly pleaded.

"I, I..."

Feng bowed her head, unable to speak.

"Could it be you still want to go back? Could they be more important than me, your biological father? Ying’er, you are my flesh and blood, I owe you so much, please give me the chance to make up for it, okay?" Bailong An continued.

"They are also, they are also..." Feng struggled to say, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to say the word family.

Because her subconscious told her, she could only be comrades with those in the Advance Team, that Luo’er ultimately wasn’t her family.

At this moment, her father was right before her, does she truly want to abandon him, return to the Advance Team, and pretend as if nothing happened?

"I, what should I do, what should I do..." Feng slowly lowered her sword, closed her eyes, and painfully muttered to herself.

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