Transmigration Of An Assassin

My First

"Should we go back home?" Haohao asked, his eyes drifting up toward the darkening sky.

Tang Shushui glanced up as well, then gave a soft chuckle. "We should. I really can't take hearing Zhengyang mutter about me stealing his wife again," Tang Shushui teased, making Haohao blush.

"You!" Haohao said, playfully hitting Tang Shushui.

Tang Shushui laughed and caught his hand. The two of them walked side by side down the narrow path, their laughter trailing behind them, light and unhurried.

But back home, the warmth of that moment did not follow them.

Inside the house, the atmosphere was starkly different. In the living room, Jiang Yanwei was seated on the floor, arms wrapped protectively around a trembling Liu Qiu. The girl's shoulders were shaking with quiet sobs. Her hair, normally neat and styled, was in disarray, roughly cut and tangled. Her cheeks were blotched with dried tears, and faint bruises marred the side of her face.

Tang Shushui froze in the doorway.

For a second, he couldn't move. His chest tightened, his breath caught mid-inhale, and the laughter still lingering in his mouth was swallowed whole. His feet finally moved forward, slowly at first, then quicker as his gaze swept over her.

He dropped to his knees in front of her.

"Liu Qiu..." he whispered.

She didn't look up. Even when she heard his voice, even when she must have felt his presence near her, she didn't lift her head. Her entire body was curled inward, as if trying to disappear.

Tang Shushui reached out, his hands brushing her hair, what was left of it. It had been cut hastily, unevenly, like someone had taken scissors in a fit of rage. His fingers trembled.

Then he saw the bruises. Just below her collarbone, near her shoulder, dark, blooming against pale skin. His stomach dropped.

"What happened to her?" he asked, his voice sharp, trying to stay steady. He turned, searching for Fu Wen, the servant assigned to watch over the children.

But Fu Wen was leaning against the wall nearby, her own face swollen and bloodied, her lip split and her expression dazed.

Tang Shushui's pulse pounded in his ears. He could feel the heat rise to his face. His instincts screamed to shout, to rage, to demand answers, but instead he forced himself to kneel closer. He cupped Liu Qiu's face gently, afraid even to touch her too hard.

"Sweetheart," he said, barely above a whisper, "what happened?"

"Mom..." she croaked, the word barely formed. It caught in her throat. Her lips trembled. Then, suddenly, she crumpled into his arms like something inside her had finally collapsed. The sobs came in bursts, as if she'd been holding them back all day, maybe longer.

Tang Shushui wrapped his arms around her tightly, instinctively, protectively.

And in that moment, everything he'd buried, all the violence, the fury, the part of him he swore he'd let go of, came rushing back.

He had tried so hard to change. To be better. Gentler. Kinder.

But now, holding his daughter, seeing the state she was in, all he wanted was to destroy whoever had done this.

He shut his eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself.

"Tell me, baby," he said softly, "tell Mom who did this to you."

Liu Qiu shook her head against his chest, her small fingers clinging to his sleeve.

"I just... got into a fight," she said between hiccupping sobs, her voice hoarse and thin.

Even as she spoke the lie, she broke down harder, clinging to him like she was drowning. Her small body shook with each cry, and soon Tang Shushui found himself crying with her.

She was clearly lying. He knew it. Everyone in the room knew it. But she didn't want to say more. Maybe she couldn't.

Because deep down, in the corner of her heart, she didn't feel like she was really their daughter anymore.

Not since her mother gave birth to two more girls.

She had prayed for little brothers, because maybe then she'd still be special. Still be wanted. But instead, there were two little sisters now, and it felt like the gods were laughing at her.

Even then, her mother had never stopped loving her. Still came to her room. Still told her stories. Still held her hand when she was scared of thunder. So Liu Qiu had decided that if she couldn't be the only one, she could at least be the good one. The one who didn't cause trouble. The one who was easy to love.

Maybe then, she wouldn't be pushed aside.

"Please tell me," Tang Shushui whispered again, brushing her hair back gently, careful not to touch the cut ends too roughly.

Jiang Yanwei watched them, quiet, his heart breaking at the sight. Even Madam Jiang and Chu Fang stood frozen behind him, both stunned into silence. They had never seen the quiet, steady Liu Qiu cry like this. And Tang Shushui, always warm and cheerful, looked like a storm barely held back by skin.

Jiang Yanwei stepped forward, lifting Liu Qiu into his arms and holding her gently. He placed a calming hand on Tang Shushui's back.

"Shushui," he said gently, "how about we sit down for a moment?"

"How can I sit down when my daughter looks like this?" Tang Shushui's voice cracked as he pushed Jiang Yanwei's hand away. "I was so busy chasing a better life, trying to move forward, that I didn't even notice what she was going through..." His voice trailed off into a sob. He covered his face with both hands, his shoulders shaking as the tears finally came.

No one spoke for a moment.

Then Chu Fang rushed to his side, kneeling down and gripping his hands. Her own eyes were full.

"Do you think you're some kind of god?" she said, voice trembling. "You're one person. You're human. You're doing your best. You're trying. What more could anyone ask of you?"

Tang Shushui shook his head, unable to respond.

"She stopped wearing her red ribbons," he finally said, his voice low and ragged. "She always hated grey... but she only wears grey now. She used to love her jade bangles, but lately she wears wood and silver. She said she stopped wearing silk because of the heat, but don't I know her? She would rather sweat to death in silk just because she loves it so much," Tang Shushui said hoarsely.

"You say you haven't been paying attention," Madam Jiang said gently, sitting on his other side. "But you noticed all those little details."

"But I didn't do anything," he said, voice raw, eyes rimmed with red. "I thought... maybe it was a phase. Maybe she was just growing up."

"No," Jiang Yanwei said, stepping in front of him. "You didn't ignore her. You were busy holding up this whole family. And you still saw her. That means something. That means everything."

He ran his hand slowly through Tang Shushui's hair, smoothing it back as if to calm him.

Then Liu Qiu turned in his arms.

"You noticed?" she asked softly, voice trembling. "All of that?"

Tang Shushui opened his arms.

"Of course I noticed," he said. "You're my daughter."

She flung herself into his embrace again, arms tight around his neck.

"That's why I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to cause trouble. I didn't want to be... a burden. I just wanted to be wanted."

Tang Shushui blinked, as if her words had struck him across the face.

He knew that feeling. He had lived that feeling. And yet somehow, he had missed it in her.

He took a slow breath, held her tightly, and whispered into her ear.

"You're mine. My first. My heart. No blood in the world could change that," he said, his voice shaking. "So please, baby... please tell Mom who hurt you."