"Then use your Qi to stabilise the pot," Yichen countered, his eyes flashing with stubborn, petulant demand. "My throat feels parched, and your little parasite is making the air in here foul."

For the next day and a half, Ji’an functioned as a triage nurse, a hostage negotiator, and an exhausted parent.

She brewed tea while balancing a pot on her knee, held Xuan’s hair back while he was sick into the bucket.

She physically batted Yichen’s fan away every time the Prince tried to "accidentally" strike the stray girl’s knuckles to make her let go.

By the time the towering, majestic obsidian walls of the Azure Empire’s capital city came into view, Ji’an was running on fumes, spite, and the residual adrenaline from the dungeon raid.

The imperial carriage did not slow down as it breached the massive city gates.

The royal crest blazoned on the doors ensured that the bustling crowds, merchant caravans, and city guards violently parted like the Red Sea, clearing the main road.

They tore through the opulent, sprawling streets of the capital, the golden-tiled roofs of the noble estates flashing past the windows.

Finally, with a jarring, screeching halt that sent Xuan face-first into his bucket one last time, the carriage came to a stop.

"We have arrived at the Lin General’s Estate, Your Highness," Commander Mo announced from outside, opening the carriage door.

Ji’an didn’t wait for pleasantries. She didn’t wait for the Prince to exit first.

She peeled the protesting stray girl off her arm, grabbed a trembling Lin Xuan by the collar, and threw herself out of the carriage.

Her boots hit the meticulously swept cobblestones of the estate’s grand courtyard.

The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the massive, imposing iron gates that guarded her childhood home.

The estate was a fortress within the city, flanked by towering statues of roaring winged tigers, the symbol of the Azure Empire’s military might.

Standing at the top of the sweeping marble steps, surrounded by a phalanx of elite, heavily armoured imperial guards, was a single figure.

General Lin, the War God of the Azure Empire.

He was a mountain of a man, standing well over six and a half feet tall.

His hair was stark, completely white, pulled back into a severe military topknot, contrasting sharply with his relatively youthful, ruggedly handsome face.

He wore dark, overlapping plates of unpolished spirit-iron armour, and a massive, heavy broadsword rested at his hip.

He exuded an aura of absolute, unyielding, terrifying authority, the kind of man who could stop a charging cavalry line with a single glare.

As Ji’an looked up at him, the adrenaline that had been keeping her upright for the last three days entirely evaporated.

The heavy, suffocating weight of everything she had endured, starting from the entrance exam, to the non-stop problems on her way back home, came crashing down on her shoulders with the force of a collapsing building.

She wasn’t the arrogant Head Chef right now.

She wasn’t the terrifying Martial Uncle who could shatter boulders, nor was she a young master.

She was just a girl who was unbelievably tired that her bones ached every time she remembered those gruesome memories.

Ji’an didn’t care about the elite guards watching her.

She didn’t care about the Second Prince stepping out of the carriage behind her, or the illusion she was projecting.

She stumbled forward, as her legs felt like lead.

"Father," Ji’an whispered, her voice cracking, completely stripped of its usual confident baritone.

She didn’t stop at the base of the stairs. She climbed them, her boots dragging on the marble.

General Lin stood perfectly still as his ’son’ approached.

His silver-flecked eyes, the same eyes as Ji’an and Xuan, swept over her torn, muddy white tunic, and the overwhelming exhaustion carved into the lines of her face.

Ji’an reached the top step, but she didn’t bow or offer a military salute.

Instead, she threw herself forward, collapsing entirely into the solid, unyielding wall of her father’s chest.

General Lin’s massive, heavily gauntleted arms moved with lightning speed, catching her instantly.

He wrapped his arms securely around her back, absorbing her entire weight as her knees gave out.

Ji’an buried her face into the cold iron plates of his armour. She didn’t care that it was uncomfortable, that she smelled like swamp water and blood.

"I brought Xuan back," Ji’an mumbled into his chestplate, her voice muffled, her hands weakly gripping his heavy cloak. "I brought him home. But Dad... I am so tired."

She turned her head slightly, pressing her lips close to the gap in his armour near his neck.

Only three people in this entire estate knew the truth beneath the Yin-Yang Void Locket: General Lin, his trusted shadow-captain, and her old wet-nurse.

"Take care of me," Ji’an whispered, a desperate, vulnerable plea that belonged solely to a daughter seeking sanctuary. "Take the binder off of me, and don’t let anyone in. Only you. Just until I wake up."

General Lin, the War God who had slaughtered thousands on the battlefield without blinking, felt his heart clench.

The stoic, terrifying mask of the commander melted away in an instant, replaced by the fierce, overwhelming, absolute love of a father who had thought his child was lost forever.

He felt how thin she was beneath the heavy robes.

He felt the terrifying, dense compression of her Qi, and he knew instantly the kind of brutal hell she must have put her body through to survive in the orthodox sects.

"I have you," General Lin murmured, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating against her cheek, thick with suppressed emotion. "You are home, my daughter, my little bird. I have you."

Without a single ounce of hesitation, General Lin shifted his grip.

He bent his knees, sliding one massive arm under her legs and the other behind her back.

Then he stood up smoothly, effortlessly lifting Ji’an into a secure, protective princess carry.

Ji’an let her head loll against his broad shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut.