Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Father's Wisdom on Priorities
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One thing I realized after hearing Emily's words...
I'd been too greedy.
I wanted a ton of customers, to monopolize the clothes I'd spread across the world, to find reliable people, to have competent workers who could handle everything, and on top of that, to manage all sorts of events.
Trying to juggle it all had overloaded me.
I'm neither a superhuman nor a machine.
People have to be as good at letting go as they are at holding on.
You need to distinguish junk from antique luxury items, or your house will end up buried in trash.
You have to separate the important from the unnecessary to create breathing room in life and truly commit to what matters.
But letting go isn't easy.
Greed and pride live in our hearts, making us cling to things even when we know they're too much—convincing ourselves we can handle it.
And that's my biggest weakness.
I'm an all-or-nothing type—either I don't do it at all, or I take on everything.
That's how I ended up like this.
In times like these, the best thing is to honestly admit your limits and seek advice.
From someone who excels at letting go, yet whom I trust enough to help me.
*Knock knock.*
"Come in."
A low, subdued baritone voice drifted from beyond the door after my knock.
I eased the door open silently and stepped cautiously into the room.
The moment I opened it, a thick black tea aroma hit me—heavy enough that Mother would have scolded him for dousing the place in perfume instead.
It made my head spin a little, but the man inside paid no mind, calmly sipping his tea while poring over documents in silence.
"What is it?"
"Do you have a moment, Father?"
"Hm?"
Father, eyes fixed on his papers, asked the uninvited guest his business.
Then, recognizing my voice, he looked up like a startled rabbit, eyes wide round.
"William?"
His eyes grew slightly hazy.
His lips parted halfway, trembling faintly.
"...Am I interrupting while you're busy?"
"No, no, sit down over there first."
"Yes."
I'd started to back away, thinking I'd come at a bad time, but Father snapped to half a beat late.
He pointed to the reception table in the corner and rose from his seat.
As I headed to the table, he lightly rang the bell on his desk, summoning the maid waiting in the next room.
"You called, my lord?"
"Brew fresh tea. Something light this time—my son will have some too."
"Understood."
Having ordered real tea in place of his perfume-scented brew, Father sat across from me.
"It's been a while since you sought me out first. What brings you here?"
Father didn't wait for the maid's fresh tea—he dove straight into the matter the moment he settled into his chair.
His face was stern, but his subtly light movements and forward-leaning posture betrayed a quiet excitement.
"I have some worries. I thought you might give me advice, Father."
"Helen would be better for that... but I'll do my best in my own way."
"Thank you."
"So, what's troubling you?"
"Hm..."
I glanced at the ceiling and leaned back slightly against the chair.
Then, hesitantly, I opened up.
"I've got all sorts of issues piling up... The biggest one is that I've taken on too many projects haphazardly, and I can't manage them. Short on people, work keeps growing, headaches keep chaining together, unpredictable problems keep popping up... I have to fix it somehow, but I don't know how... Sigh..."
Embarrassed to be spilling these adolescent woes to family despite my age, I rambled a bit, ending with a sigh as I scratched my cheek lightly.
"Ha..."
Father listened quietly, then let out a soft chuckle, one corner of his mouth quirking up.
He crossed his arms and tilted his head back slightly before speaking.
"When I was about Edward's age, I wrestled with the exact same troubles."
"You did, Father...?"
"Of course."
I could believe he'd had such a phase—he's human, after all—but it was hard to picture.
Not with the titles shadowing him: Shield of the Empire, the Butcher, the Human Shredder...
Could a man like that really have fretted like some angsty teen?
Skeptical, I eyed him, waiting for the story.
"My father passed early, so succession hit me suddenly. Evelyn was growing up, Helen was pregnant with her second, the late emperor was on his deathbed, and imperial power struggles were intensifying."
"I... see..."
As expected, his scale dwarfed mine.
Two of those alone would've broken me...
"I gave up quite a lot back then."
"You gave up?"
"At the time, our house backed the Second Prince—His current Majesty's late brother. We couldn't help aligning with the military faction."
"Huh?"
The abrupt revelation made me blurt out a dumb sound, furrowing my brow.
The side His Majesty had personally shoved into a coffin?
"It must sound strange to you. Hard to imagine, seeing us and His Majesty now."
"Yes..."
"The Second Prince was a capable knight and general. Without his ambition for the throne, he'd have been a key figure to this day—rivaling Grand Marshal Guo in pure military prowess."
"Then why support His current Majesty?"
"He wasn't suited to be a good emperor. His personality and ideals were... extreme. He saw the people as expendable, treated harshness as natural."
"Ah..."
"Choices come when you least want them, and things got so tangled it drove me mad. After deep thought, I chose the uncertain path toward a better future. His Majesty was petty, but upright."
"Pardon?"
Words that didn't belong together kept coming.
My jaw dropped in shock, and Father burst into hearty laughter, shrugging.
"Haha, well... the throne's stress made him a bit crotchety, but at least it never targeted the people. He holds to his principles."
"That's true..."
Today's revelations were hitting hard.
Is this why parents avoid old tales?
Makes sense.
Calling His Majesty "petty" or Father a "defector" from the Second Prince's camp? They'd call it nonsense.
How does a petty man turn a ducal lady into a maid? A defector become the Emperor's right hand?
"It must've been tough to choose. How did you decide?"
"I always set clear priorities: what to protect first, what to discard first."
"How do you decide that? It still means giving up what you have."
"Set firm goals. Clarify the 'why' behind your actions, plans, everything. Remembering that makes prioritizing easier. I valued our house and the Empire's peace, so I cleanly betrayed my childhood friends from the Second Prince's circle."
"I see..."
Father gave a bitter smile, eyes closing briefly.
He bit his lower lip and fell silent for a moment.
"...William."
Time passed. The maid returned with fresh tea, set the pot and cups on the table, and left.
Father opened his eyes softly and parted his firm lips, calling me quietly.
"As you age and carve your own path, you'll face more things to let go. Not just money or objects—opportunities toward success too. Like fretting over the messes you've made now."
"Yes."
"To regret those choices a little less, grasp what you truly want. Know what you'd protect most, what you'd pursue most—that lets you decide what to release."
"Yes..."
"That's the extent of my advice on your troubles."
With a gentle smile, Father uncrossed his arms and lifted the teacup to wet his throat.
"Did my words help at all?"
"My head's still a mess, but it's starting to sort itself out a bit."
"Glad to hear it."
"No, I should be thanking you."
I smiled back at Father's relieved expression and picked up my teacup.
My mind was still tangled, needing time to settle, but hearing Emily and Father had given me a glimpse of direction.