General Lin let out a low, amused huff. "Do not let the silk go to your head, Ji’an. We are here to honor your brother. Maintain your discipline."

"Always, Father," Ji’an beamed, her confidence fully restored.

***

When the carriage finally drew to a halt and the doors were opened by the Imperial Palace guards, Ji’an’s newfound confidence was immediately put to the test and validated.

The courtyard stretching before the massive Main Gate was already packed with the highest-ranking nobles, ministers, and military officials of the Azure Empire.

They stood in perfectly organized, rigid hierarchies, dressed in their finest silks and ceremonial armors, waiting for the Emperor’s arrival to officially receive the victorious Vanguard.

The moment General Lin stepped out of the carriage, a wave of respectful, hushed murmurs rippled through the crowd.

But when Lin Ji’an stepped down behind him, the murmurs instantly shifted into a loud, frantic, collective buzz of shock, awe, and desperate curiosity.

"Is that... is that the rumored Third Son of General Lin?" a minister whispered loudly to his peer, his eyes wide as he stared at the silver cloud embroidery on Ji’an’s robes.

"It cannot be! The Third Son was a waste without spiritual roots! Look at the jade token at his waist! That is the crest of a Third Generation Elder of the Celestial Sword Sect! The boy outranks the Prime Minister in the cultivation world!"

"And look at his face! Heavens above, he is beautiful! The Lin family bloodline is truly terrifying!"

Ji’an didn’t cower from the stares or walk on eggshells.

She showed off the authority of a Michelin-star Head Chef walking the floor of a fully booked dining room.

She kept her chin high, her posture immaculate, and her silver-flecked eyes cool and completely unbothered.

She walked beside her father, parting the sea of powerful, wealthy nobles simply by existing.

She saw several young noblewomen in the crowd actively fanning themselves, their faces flushed bright crimson as she passed.

’It’s good to be the king,’ Ji’an thought smugly, completely ignoring the fact that she was currently masquerading as a man to achieve this effect.

"The Vanguard approaches! Form the receiving line!" a herald’s voice suddenly boomed, magically amplified to echo across the sprawling plaza.

General Lin stopped at the very front of the courtyard, standing just to the right of the massive, empty golden dais where the Emperor would soon sit.

He motioned for Ji’an, Xuan, and the three sisters to line up beside him.

"We will wait here," General Lin instructed, his deep voice carrying a tremor of suppressed anticipation. He looked out past the towering palace walls, toward the grand avenue leading into the city. "We will receive him in person."

As they stood there in the setting sun, the golden light casting long shadows across the polished white jade of the plaza, Ji’an’s arrogant smirk slowly began to fade.

The excitement of the crowd, the thrumming tension of the approaching army, and the quiet gravity of her father’s posture began to weigh heavily on her shoulders.

She looked at her own hands.

She looked at the callouses on her palms, earned from swinging a heavy cast-iron wok and surviving the brutal, unforgiving crucible of the Lower Realm.

And then, entirely unbidden, the lingering soul fragments of the original host’s memories suddenly surged to the forefront of her mind.

It was not a memory of pain, but a memory full of warmth.

Ji’an’s vision swam.

For a moment, she wasn’t standing in the Imperial Plaza.

She was seven years old, crying, her knees scraped and bleeding after being shoved into the gravel of the training courtyard by the cruel Second Brother.

The servants were looking away, too terrified of the Matriarch to intervene.

A shadow fell over her.

A boy, barely seventeen but already possessing the broad shoulders and stern, unyielding presence of a veteran soldier, knelt in the dirt beside her.

He didn’t yell at her for crying, nor did he tell her to be strong.

He reached out with a clean, white linen handkerchief and gently wiped the blood and gravel from her knees.

He smelled of polished leather, pine needles, and the crisp, clean scent of snow.

"Do not weep, little bird," the boy’s voice murmured, deep and resonant, a protective anchor in a sea of hostility. "If they push you down, you must wait for me to return. I will always pull you back up. You are a Lin. But more importantly... You are mine to protect."

He reached into the pocket of his heavy training tunic and pulled out a small, slightly squished candied plum, a rare treat he had smuggled from the kitchens specifically for her.

The original host took the plum, her tears stopping as she looked up at her eldest brother, Lin Feng. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

He was her hero, her shield, the only person in the entire estate who looked at her and saw something worth loving.

The memory shattered, dissolving back into the golden light of the present.

Lin Ji’an gasped softly, stumbling back half a step.

Her hand flew to her chest, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against the Yin-Yang Void Locket.

The emotion coursing through her veins wasn’t her own.

It was a phantom ache, a desperate, visceral longing left behind by the soul of the girl who had originally inhabited this body.

’They were close,’ Ji’an realized, the cold sweat of a profound terror breaking out across the back of her neck. ’They weren’t just polite siblings. He practically raised her. He loved her.’

General Lin turned his head, noticing her stumble. He looked at her, his silver-flecked eyes softening with a deep, knowing sorrow.

"You remember the day he left," General Lin murmured, ensuring his voice did not carry to the surrounding nobles.

Ji’an swallowed the thick lump in her throat. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded.

"It was difficult for him," the General sighed, turning his gaze back to the gates.