Atonement, A Father Is a Child’s Treasure

"How did you get in here?" Serena Phoenixfield looked genuinely startled, a flash of coldness in her eyes. She instinctively stepped back, putting distance between them.

Adrian Phoenixfield hadn’t noticed Serena’s expression. At the sound of her voice, he spun around, eyes wide with joy. "Father!" he cried out.

The newcomer was Ezra Phoenixfield—father to Clara and Adrian Phoenixfield, and the man who nearly became King of Phoenixfield.

Ezra Phoenixfield’s clothes were worn and weathered, his face lined and tired, streaks of gray at his temples. He carried a box wrapped in black cloth, looking utterly downcast.

When he saw Adrian Phoenixfield, Ezra managed a faint smile, but his face turned solemn as he looked at Serena. He greeted her stiffly: "Eldest Young Lady."

"No need for formality. By seniority, I should call you cousin; you can just call me Serena." Once the initial surprise faded, Serena Phoenixfield paid Ezra no special mind.

Since he’d come of his own accord, there was no possibility he’d leave now. As for the Sixth Elder?

Serena’s gaze landed on the box in Ezra’s hands, her look deep and meaningful…

Following Serena’s gaze, Ezra lowered his head, sorrow flickering across his face. He didn’t keep her guessing—he simply unwrapped the black cloth and choked out, "Eldest Young Lady, the criminal Ezra Phoenixfield has brought back the ashes of Sixth Elder Leonard Phoenixfield."

"What? Grandpa?" Adrian Phoenixfield gasped, lunging forward to snatch the urn from Ezra’s hands. "Father, you mean Grandpa is…" Dead. His bones sealed in this tiny jar?

Adrian couldn’t finish his sentence; instead, he stared at his father, disbelief written all over his face. "Father, tell me this isn’t true. Grandpa isn’t dead, right? He isn’t dead, is he?"

"Adrian, enough. Your father is speaking with the Eldest Young Lady." Ezra Phoenixfield took a deep breath, blinking away tears as he gently pushed Adrian aside.

Serena had always said that the children were not to be punished for the crimes of their parents. Ezra didn’t want Adrian dragged into this—one guilty party was enough.

"Eldest Young Lady, please take a look." Ezra Phoenixfield retrieved the urn and held it out to Serena.

Staring at the small jar before her, Serena knew her father’s blood feud was finally avenged. Yet she felt no joy—only a hollow sense of loss.

So what if those who killed her father were dead? Her father could never return. Besides, she’d only meant to force Ezra to show himself, to keep him from betraying the Phoenixfield Clan. She’d never expected him to return so decisively, carrying the Sixth Elder’s ashes himself.

Serena let out a quiet sigh. "That won’t be necessary. Just give Sixth Elder Leonard Phoenixfield a proper burial."

She waved her hand, unwilling to say more. Ezra bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, Eldest Young Lady."

Ezra’s bow wasn’t for himself—it was for his two children. He’d had plenty of chances to betray Serena, to betray the Phoenixfield Clan while he was outside, but he never did.

He never forgot he was Phoenixfield, and he never forgot his two children. No matter how hard or bitter life got, he would never sell out his clan or abandon his son and daughter.

Ezra Phoenixfield handed the urn to the stunned Adrian, then swept his robe aside and knelt directly before Serena. "Eldest Young Lady."

"What are you doing? Get up." Serena was startled and hurried forward to help him up.

It was absurd—Ezra might be her peer by clan generation, but he was old enough to be her father. How could she possibly accept such a bow? Yet Ezra didn’t budge, no matter how Serena tried to pull him up; he remained stubbornly kneeling.

"Father…" Adrian couldn’t hold back any longer—tears streamed down his face, but he was powerless to stop it. He knew his father was kneeling to atone, begging on behalf of him and Clara.

Ezra’s face was resolute. Ignoring Serena’s attempts to stop him, he kowtowed: "Eldest Young Lady, I know I am guilty. I dare not beg your forgiveness—no matter how you choose to punish me, I will not protest. But Clara and Adrian knew nothing. For the sake of shared blood, I beg you to spare them."

"I never intended to take their lives. You may get up now." Serena stood off to the side, refusing to accept Ezra’s bow as a personal tribute.

"I am a criminal." Ezra still refused to rise, a trace of stubbornness—almost threatening—behind his words.

Serena glanced at him and tossed out, "Suit yourself. Kneel if you want. I won’t play along." With that, she turned and walked away.

Ezra didn’t react, but Adrian couldn’t bear to see his father kneeling any longer. He rushed forward to block Serena’s path. "Aunt Serena…"

He called out, but the rest of his words stuck in his throat.

Pleading for mercy? Serena hadn’t even punished Ezra—what was there to beg for?

Serena said nothing, simply watching Adrian. After a moment, Adrian lowered his head, pain etched across his face. "Aunt Serena, why did things end up like this? What did I do wrong?"

His home was gone, his grandfather dead, his father broken, his sister ruined.

"You did nothing wrong. It’s fate that’s to blame." Serena gazed at the gray sky and let out a heavy sigh. "Ezra, I’ll arrange for the three of you to be sent back. As for your guilt, it’s not for me to decide, but for the clan to judge. Any punishment will follow clan law—I won’t interfere."

"Thank you, Eldest Young Lady." This time, Ezra didn’t refuse. After kowtowing, he rose to his feet. Adrian started to speak, but Ezra’s warning look stopped him cold.

Serena didn’t care what the father and son thought; once she’d made things clear, she left. At last, the weight in her heart eased.

Ezra had returned. Whatever his reasons, at least the immediate danger was gone. For now, Serena didn’t have to worry about her identity being exposed.

"Father, why wouldn’t you let me speak?" As soon as Serena left, Adrian asked.

"Enough. The Eldest Young Lady’s decision was fair." In just a few months, Ezra had aged dramatically—his back was hunched, his eyes dull, all his spirit gone.

"But she’s not blameless either." Why should they be forced to obey clan law when Serena herself did not?

Ezra let out a bitter laugh. "Because... she’s the Phoenixfield Heiress. She is the King of Phoenixfield! Who would dare demand she obey clan law? Who would dare?"

"So if Clara makes the same mistake as her, only Clara will be punished by clan law, while Serena is exempt?" Adrian knew it wasn’t right, but thinking of the punishment awaiting his father and sister back in the clan made his heart ache.

"You don’t understand…" Ezra sighed, his voice distant and hollow.

Clara would be punished by clan law—not for losing her virtue before marriage or for ruining her reputation, but for misjudging people and disgracing the Phoenixfield Clan and its daughters. Not just the clan, even Ezra himself could not forgive her.

His daughter, their daughters of the Phoenixfield Clan, must never be trampled on like that.

"Adrian, remember—you are Phoenixfield. The King of Phoenixfield, the Phoenixfield Heiress, is the one you must follow for life. Whatever they say or do is not your concern; you need only obey. And remember, our tragedy was not caused by the Eldest Young Lady, but by Jason Lan. If you want revenge, don’t target the wrong person." Ezra spoke as if giving his final instructions. Adrian turned pale with fright, clutching the urn tightly, panic filling his eyes.

"Father, what’s wrong? Clara and I have already lost our grandfather and mother—we can’t lose you too. Father, you can’t leave us…"

"Silly child, what are you thinking?" Ezra managed a faint smile. "I won’t leave you. I’ll always protect you. Until I see you both settled and thriving, I won’t die."

Even if life was bitter and hard, he would survive for the sake of his children. If he died, what would happen to them? He couldn’t let his children be bullied…