Chapter 11619 — The Higher the Tier of a Family, the More It Clings to Bloodline

Especially at the level of the Seven Great Princely Houses—a single distinction between legitimate and bastard-born was enough to set men clawing at each other's throats until the blood ran, let alone an outsider like him who had no connection to them worth mentioning.

This ancestral patriarch of the Han Princely House was, frankly, rather amusing.

Han Niansan waved it off. "Traditions are all made by people. Just because a thing didn't exist before doesn't mean it can't exist later. I'm simply inventing one now, and there it is. You're a young fellow—surely your mind isn't more hidebound than an old man's?"

At first hearing, the argument actually had a certain ring of sense to it.

For a moment, Wei Zhao found himself with nothing to say.

The rest of the crowd froze along with him.

Wei Baizhan and the others all turned to look at Wei Zhao.

The old man had not made a move, but judging by his aura alone, he was far from weak; pitted against him, any one of them would likely stand not the slightest chance.

But if they all struck at once—especially if Wei Zhao joined in personally—that was another matter entirely.

Yet now that Han Niansan had suddenly thrown out this proposal, the others found themselves at a loss as to whether they should act at all.

Before Wei Zhao could even open his mouth, Han Jiechen on the other side had already completely lost his composure.

The ancestral patriarch of his Han Princely House had finally manifested, and instead of siding with him, the old man was holding back so that Wei Zhao, an outsider, could take over the nest—what on earth was going on?

Could this be some impostor patriarch?

Han Jiechen could not help but entertain the suspicion, and the look he cast at Han Niansan promptly turned unfriendly.

But this was, after all, the ancestral shrine of his own Han Princely House, and the man's appearance and bearing truly were identical to those of the twenty-third-generation ancestor.

Even if he harbored doubts in his heart, he dared not rashly turn hostile.

The crux of it was that he simply did not have the nerve.

If his guess should prove correct—if this old man were a plant Wei Zhao had brought in to hoodwink them—then having the fraud exposed to his face might not turn out to be any good thing for him.

When that time came, what awaited him might well be a silencing.

Han Jiechen probed cautiously, "Ancestral Patriarch, even if the tradition is to be changed, a matter of such magnitude ought to have the other ancestral patriarchs appear as well, surely? If you decide it alone, and afterward the other ancestors object, would all our effort not have been in vain?"

Han Niansan gave a snort and jabbed a finger at his nose, cursing, "I said it before and I'll say it again—you're good for nothing!"

"You're plainly suspecting me in your heart, yet you don't dare say it to my face, and you put on this cowering, shrinking act—if you're not ashamed of yourself, I'm ashamed for you!"

"Besides, if you truly mean to test me, then use your head and test me properly—don't make such a clumsy botch of it!"

"No good with letters, no good with arms—you're a downright worthless piece of trash!"

Han Jiechen was struck dumb on the spot by the scolding.

The rest of the Han princes' household kept their heads down, not daring to make a sound.

Harsh as the words were, in their hearts they could not deny the old ancestor's assessment of Han Jiechen.

Compared with the other seven princely houses, the Han princes down the generations had rarely produced anyone outstanding; managing to stay merely conventional was considered good enough, and this was one of the reasons the Han princes' house had remained weak for so long.

Yet even measured against the Han princes of past generations, Han Jiechen, whether in ability or in character, could only be ranked among the very last.

To put it bluntly, there was in this fellow no semblance of a true sovereign; he did not deserve the lofty seat of the Han Prince.

If the Han princes' house remained in his hands, its decline was a settled matter, and with one careless misstep it might even fly apart entirely and be eliminated ahead of time.

Just as had happened this time.

Had the old ancestor not stepped forward, once Wei Zhao was truly provoked, the Han princes' house might well have become history.

Han Niansan turned his head and said to Wei Zhao, "You're hardly a straightforward sort yourself, boy. Making you the Han Prince is a windfall dropped straight from the heavens, and no bad thing either, so what's with all this shilly-shallying?"

Han Jiechen watched Wei Zhao nervously, dreading that he would agree on the spot.

If that happened, he would truly be driven into a dead end.

Fortunately, Wei Zhao remained unmoved.

With a touch of amusement, Wei Zhao said, "First, I've never believed that fine pies simply drop out of the clear blue sky. Eating whatever comes my way, I'm afraid I'd make myself sick."

"Second, the seat of the Han Prince is lofty enough, but I've no interest in it."

Now it was Han Niansan's turn to be dumbfounded; he raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean? You look down on the Han Prince's seat? You've got a lofty spirit, boy."

Normally, once the seat of the Han Prince was tossed out, anyone at all would be knocked senseless by it.

And yet here was someone who could withstand such a tremendous temptation?

Wei Zhao nodded without the slightest pretense of courtesy. "Truly, I look down on it."

"..."

The whole of the Han princes' household was collectively speechless.

And to think they had just been agonizing over how they should choose if Wei Zhao took the Han Prince's place.

Some among them had harbored the same suspicions as Han Jiechen.

Perhaps this really was a trap Wei Zhao had laid!

But now it seemed they had clearly been overthinking it.

If this truly were a trap Wei Zhao had laid, he would have gone along with it smoothly and without fail; there would have been no need at all to put on airs and make a show of declining.

After all, whatever means he had used, he had even dragged out the twenty-third-generation ancestor of the Han Prince's estate, and he held an absolute advantage in strength. Everything was proper and justified. What was there left to argue about?

"Oh-ho, quite the character."

Han Niansan's eyes darted about. "Then how about this: you needn't be this old man's grandson anymore. You can take charge of the Han Prince's seat directly. What do you say?"

The crowd grew ever more bewildered.

Han Jiechen was on the verge of going mad.

What was this supposed to mean? Was the Han Prince's seat poisoned, that it simply had to be shoved onto Wei Zhao, an outsider?

He must be a fake ancestor! A hundred percent a fake ancestor!

Wei Zhao looked at the other man strangely.

The man was the twenty-third-generation ancestor of the Han Prince's estate; if he were standing up for Han Jiechen, then whether or not he had the ability, at least his line of thinking would be entirely understandable.

But now he was scheming every which way to push the Han Prince's seat onto Wei Zhao's head. What was he calculating?

Wei Zhao narrowed his eyes and asked, "Senior, have you seen something?"

In his understanding, the future could not be accurately foreknown. The higher the level, the more pronounced the butterfly effect became. Even employing the most brilliant means, at best one could only raise the probability of a successful prophecy a little. In essence, it was still guesswork.

Even what was already fixed could change at any moment.

If, however, one used lot divination or the like to seek good fortune and avoid disaster, that was another matter.

Han Niansan's eyelid twitched. "Sharp little fellow, aren't you."

In recent years, the fortunes of the Han Prince's estate had been in steady decline, so much so that even they, the old ancestors, found it extraordinarily difficult to manifest and bestow their protection.