Time Travel: He is My Dad!

Father's Secret

He Qingqing sat dazed on the bed, the words "your father" still ringing in her ears. At that moment, the entire room seemed to become eerily silent, as if even the air had frozen. Her head ached intensely, and the man's face kept flashing through her mind—cold, serious, with deep eyes that seemed to see through everything. Although her memory was hazy, she was certain that he had influenced her far more than just a father.

"Father?" she muttered, her mind in turmoil. It had been some time since she'd traveled to this world, but she still didn't fully understand her past or her identity. Whenever she tried to access her memories, the fragments always fell apart, unable to piece together a complete truth. She had no idea where she came from, what kind of life the original He Qingqing had led, or why she had traveled to this strange world.

Everything before her made her feel as unknown and dangerous as an abyss, especially the identity of that man - her father. She had never met him, but there was always an indescribable connection between them.

There were hurried footsteps outside, the sound of the old woman hurried past. A moment later, the door was gently pushed open, and the old woman's figure appeared at the door again: "Qingqing, hurry up, don't just stand there, go see your father is here. Your grandma is going to prepare tea."

"Father..." He Qingqing's heartbeat quickened. Suppressing her inner turmoil, she stood up and straightened her clothes. Although still weak, she knew she couldn't dwell on pointless doubts any longer. She had to quickly uncover the truth about this world, to find out what secrets this seemingly unrelated father was hiding.

She followed the old woman out of the house and into the yard. The sun had risen completely, its golden light casting a striking tranquil light over the countryside. However, He Qingqing's heart was turbulent, unable to calm down.

The courtyard was small, surrounded by a dense bamboo forest. A few poultry wandered leisurely around, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of earth and grass. At the far end of the courtyard stood a tall, straight man in a dark official robe. His back was to her, as if he had been standing there for a long time.

The man's back was stern and his posture was upright, giving people a sense of oppression. Even though it was just his back, He Qingqing could still feel a strong aura coming towards him, as if an invisible force was enveloping him, making it impossible to ignore.

Her steps stopped involuntarily, and a strange emotion suddenly rose in her heart. This man... did she really know him?

"Qingqing, come and meet your father." The old woman urged, her eyes full of anticipation.

He Qingqing was stunned for a moment, then took a deep breath, forcibly suppressed her uneasiness, and walked towards the man. Her heartbeat quickened, but her steps didn't slow, but rather became hurried. She knew that at this moment, she was about to meet the "father" she had never seen before, but who seemed to have been deeply engraved in her memory.

She approached the man, who slowly turned around. The sunlight shone on his face, outlining his handsome yet stern features. At that moment, He Qingqing's heart suddenly trembled—he was the vague figure in her memory, the man who seemed to always hover in her mind.

"You're finally awake." The man's voice was low and steady, with a hint of majesty that could not be ignored. His eyes fell on He Qingqing, and there seemed to be thousands of words in his eyes, but he said nothing.

He Qingqing froze in place, her heart practically skipping a beat. She finally understood: this man—her father—was a powerful official in this world, a man of extraordinary stature. The aura and pressure he emanated were far more than she had imagined. Although she knew he was no ordinary person, standing before him, she still felt an inexplicable sense of oppression.

"Are you He Qingqing?" The man's gaze was as sharp as a knife, piercing straight at her. His eyes were cold, yet filled with a concern that could not be ignored.

"I..." He Qingqing suddenly found herself at a loss for words. The man before her was truly shocking to her. She wanted to say something, but found herself unable to find the right words to respond.

The man didn't seem eager to wait for her reply. His eyes slowly shifted from her face, as if he were disappointed. He sighed softly, "You're just like your mother, fragile and powerless."

He Qingqing's heart skipped a beat, and the scene before her began to blur. The strong emotions welling up in her heart made her unable to control them. "What are you talking about?"

The man's eyes narrowed, as if he finally realized that his words were too harsh. He frowned slightly, and his tone became slightly colder: "Your mother is the regret of my life. If you inherit her fragility, I can only regret it."

He Qingqing's heart sank at these words. She had never heard her mother's name, let alone her background. But judging by the emotion in her father's eyes, she was clearly not someone worth remembering. His tone was filled with disappointment and disgust, even a hint of unnoticed anger.

"Your mother...why?" He Qingqing finally couldn't help asking, her voice low and firm.

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was considering how to answer her question. After a moment, he said calmly, "She betrayed me and our family. Her death was her own fault." He looked at He Qingqing again, his tone no longer gentle, "I don't want you to repeat the same mistake."

He Qingqing's heart trembled. The man before her seemed to hold so many secrets, secrets perhaps connected to her own life and her time travel. For a moment, she was lost in endless confusion and bewilderment. Before she could reflect, she suddenly felt an unspeakable force enveloping her, as if some unknown conspiracy was quietly unfolding.

At this moment, the old woman behind him coughed lightly, breaking the silence: "Sir, Qingqing is still young and cannot bear these heavy topics. Please be more patient."

The man frowned slightly, but didn't argue. He Qingqing felt an unprecedented pressure on herself, as if she were standing in an invisible vortex, allowing it to pull her deeper into darkness.

"Qingqing, go and rest first." The man's voice was no longer so cold, but instead had a hint of command in it.

He Qingqing nodded slowly and turned to leave. His figure gradually disappeared from her sight, but her heart could not calm down for a long time. The word "betrayal" was like a knife, piercing her heart deeply.

She couldn't help but wonder what had caused her father to hate her mother so much. The truth of this world was probably far more complicated than she'd imagined. And perhaps she had already been caught up in a larger conspiracy.

You said:

Chapter 3: The Beginning of Machiavellianism