Chapter 896 – "Forget the Plan"
The last of the dishes had been cleared away, and the lingering warmth of the meal still wrapped the Luxury House like a gentle haze. Alex leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting to Ying Hua, who was seated beside him with her usual poised elegance.
"Ying Hua," he said casually, "why don't we travel together? We've never really done that before."
She blinked, caught off guard. "Travel… together?"
He nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "Just the two of us. See some places. Spend time outside the sect."
For a moment, her mind froze. That wasn't the plan. The plan — her plan — was to slowly lead him toward the Eastern Empire, maneuver him into meeting the Empress and her daughter, and turn both into his sex slaves. Every step had been calculated, every detail prepared.
But in her head, at that moment…
Do you know what? she thought, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. Fuck the plan.
The words were so clear in her mind that she almost laughed out loud. Travel with him? Just the two of them? That was more important than any scheme. The Empress and Princess could wait forever for all she cared right now.
Her heart swelled with that same burning fanaticism she had felt during the meal. Plans, politics, manipulation — all of it faded behind the far brighter truth: being at his side, even if it was just to walk through a strange city, was worth more than any victory.
She looked at him with a rare softness, her voice quiet but sure. "Yes, Father… let's travel."
And in her mind, the thought pulsed again, fierce and unshakable: The world can wait. He's mine to be with right now.
Ying Hua didn't move right away after agreeing to travel with him. She was still seated at his side, bare skin gleaming faintly in the soft lantern light, silver-grey hair spilling down her back like a silken waterfall.
In her mind, it was only natural — her body was for Father, his harem, and the sex slaves alone. No one else had earned the right to see it. But if they were going to travel outside, she would need clothing.
Rising gracefully from her seat, she moved to the adjoining chamber and returned a few moments later dressed in a flowing silver-grey hanfu. The fabric shimmered subtly with each step, the long sleeves trailing elegantly as she walked back to him. The color matched her hair perfectly, making her look like a vision carved from moonlight.
She glanced at him for a moment, silently asking for his approval with her eyes, then gave a small, satisfied smile when she saw it there.
But before they could leave, a series of voices touched her mind through the white choker network.
"Ying Hua, where's the plan going?" Yu Mei's voice, curious but edged with expectation.
"We're still on track, right?" Shi Lian followed.
Then Xue Lian, Lan Xueya, and Ling Shuanghua in turn, each sending their own variations of the same question. "The Empress and Princess — when are we moving?"
Ying Hua's steps slowed, then stopped entirely. Her eyes lowered to the polished floor for a long heartbeat.
And then, with absolutely no hesitation, she sent back a single, unfiltered thought that burst into every one of their minds at once:
"Fuck the plan."
There was a pause over the link — a silence so sharp it was almost comical.
Yu Mei was the first to respond, amusement tinged with disbelief. "…What?"
"You heard me," Ying Hua replied, her mental tone fierce with conviction. "I'm traveling with Father. That's it. The plan can wait. The Empress can wait. Everything can wait."
Shi Lian gave a low mental laugh. "So that's how it is. Fanatic as always."
Xue Lian's sigh carried both resignation and faint amusement. "We should have known."
Lan Xueya chuckled softly over the link. "I suppose we'll just… stand by until the princess is done with her little trip."
Ling Shuanghua, as always, was calm — but there was a faint smile in her mental tone. "Enjoy yourself. We'll keep things stable here."
Ying Hua didn't bother to explain herself further. She simply turned back to Alex, the faintest smug curve to her lips, as if daring anyone to try and pull her away from this. In her mind, the truth was simple:
Plans could be remade. Opportunities would come again. But traveling with him, right now, was irreplaceable.
And she would never choose anything else.
Alex knew Ying Hua's nature as well as he knew the back of his own hand. Crowded cities, bustling markets — none of those would appeal to her, not when they meant brushing shoulders with men she had no desire to even look at.
So he didn't suggest them.
Instead, their journey began with the quiet majesty of the natural world — the winding trails of misty mountains, the glassy surface of rivers that reflected the sky like a mirror, fields of wildflowers that swayed under the touch of the wind.
And through it all, he carried her.
Not over his shoulder like a burden, not with a casual arm around her waist — but cradled in his arms in the full princess position. Her silver-grey hair spilled over his arm with every step, her hanfu pooling gently against his chest as if it had been made for this.
Ying Hua didn't even try to hide her joy. Her arms circled his neck loosely, her cheek resting against the steady beat of his heart. Every time the breeze caught the hem of her sleeve or the scent of wild blossoms reached her, she would glance up at him — and the look in her eyes was the same one she'd worn when she'd told the others fuck the plan.
She loved it.
Not just the scenery, but the act itself. Being carried like this, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, was more intoxicating to her than any treasure or victory. And she knew, deep down, that he didn't carry her out of obligation. He carried her because he chose to.
And that, to Ying Hua, was everything.
They followed the river's curve deeper into the valley until the sound of rushing water grew louder, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves overhead. The trees parted to reveal a wide, sunlit clearing — and beyond it, a waterfall cascading down from a cliff face draped in emerald moss.
The spray caught the afternoon light, scattering it into a thousand tiny rainbows that danced above the pool below. The air was cool and fresh, scented faintly with wet stone and the sweetness of wild mint growing along the bank.
Alex stepped forward without slowing, still holding Ying Hua in his arms. He carried her right to the water's edge, where the stones were smooth and the pool's surface mirrored the sky in perfect clarity.
"This will do," he said simply, his voice calm, as if the beauty before them was only an afterthought to the fact that they were here together.
Ying Hua's silver-grey eyes swept over the scene, and she exhaled softly — not in awe of the waterfall, but in quiet contentment. "I like it," she murmured, her fingers tightening slightly around his neck. "No people. No noise. Just you… and me."
Alex lowered her gently onto a flat stone near the water, but her hands lingered at his collar, as if reluctant to let go. She looked up at him with the faintest smile, one that held all the truth she'd already decided in her heart: the scenery was beautiful, but being carried here in his arms was what had made the journey perfect.
The murmur of the waterfall wrapped around them, soft but constant, like the rhythm of a heartbeat in nature's chest. Mist clung to the air, cooling their skin and beading lightly on Ying Hua's silver-grey hair until it shimmered as if dusted in starlight.
Alex sat beside her on the smooth stone, his presence steady and grounding amid the wild beauty around them. For a while, they said nothing — just listening to the water and the occasional call of a bird somewhere in the trees.
Then Ying Hua shifted closer, her hanfu brushing against his arm. "Father," she said softly, her voice almost blending with the sound of the falls, "it's beautiful here… but it's more beautiful because you're here."
Her hand found his, slender fingers curling between his own. She didn't need to speak her other thoughts — the way her eyes lingered on him, the way her lips curved in a faint smile, told him everything.
He turned his palm to hold hers properly, his thumb tracing idle circles against her skin. "You really do like places like this," he said quietly.
"I like anywhere with you," she replied, the words simple but carrying the weight of absolute truth.
The intimacy wasn't loud or urgent. It was in the closeness of their bodies, the warmth of their joined hands, the quiet understanding that nothing else mattered right now. The whole world could wait; the waterfall could roar for hours; and they would still be here, wrapped in each other's presence.
Chapter 897 – "A Mother's Smile, A Hidden Hate"
The palace dining hall was a picture of refinement — polished jade floors, carved screens filtering the afternoon light, and a table laid with dishes so exquisite they seemed more art than food. The aroma of steamed lotus buns, spiced duck, and delicately seasoned vegetables filled the air.
Empress Lian Hua sat at the head of the table, her posture as flawless as her silken lavender and gold robes. Every gesture, every lift of her chopsticks, carried the weight of her imperial bearing. Beside her, seated just slightly lower, was Princess Xu Li — dressed in soft winter colors, her long black hair falling loose down her back.
They ate in near silence, save for the faint clink of porcelain and the rustle of silk. Xu Li knew her mother loved her. She had felt it in the small ways — the warm fur-lined robes in winter, the rare moments of shared laughter, the way Lian Hua's voice softened when speaking to her alone.
But even now, as she looked up from her bowl, she saw it again.
That same warmth… shadowed by something darker.
Her mother's eyes lingered on her, and though her lips curved in the faintest smile, the gaze beneath was sharp, cold, and filled with an unspoken hatred. It wasn't for Xu Li herself — at least, not in the way of resentment toward her soul — but for the blood that ran in her veins.
The blood of the Emperor.
Xu Li lowered her eyes to her rice, hiding the flicker of unease in her expression. She didn't ask why. She had asked before, and the answers had only been vague phrases about politics, the empire, and "the mistakes of men."
Lian Hua sipped her tea, the steam curling upward between them. "Eat well, Xu Li," she said gently. "You'll need your strength."
It was the same voice that had soothed her as a child… yet somehow, it felt like the prelude to a storm.
Lian Hua's gaze lingered on her daughter as Xu Li obediently returned to her meal.
Her hands remained poised, her smile unchanged — the perfect image of a benevolent empress sharing lunch with her child. But beneath that mask, her thoughts seethed like a storm contained behind glass.
I love you, Xu Li… but every time I look at you, I see his shadow.
The Emperor's voice still haunted her memories — arrogant, cold, laced with entitlement. She could still feel the weight of his control, the way he treated her not as a woman, not as a partner, but as a possession to be displayed and used when convenient.
Eight months pregnant… and still I carry his mark inside me. Her jaw tightened imperceptibly as she set down her chopsticks. Another child bound by his blood, cursed to share his lineage. And you, my sweet Xu Li… you've grown so beautiful, so full of potential, and yet… that man's blood runs through your veins. It sickens me.
Her fingers brushed the rim of her teacup, the delicate porcelain cool beneath her touch. If I could strip it from you — erase every trace of him — I would. If I could rewrite what you are and make you truly mine alone, I'd do it without hesitation.
She kept her breathing even, refusing to let the bitterness rise to the surface. In the court, one wrong expression could feed rumors for months.
But the hatred never faded. It was an ember that had burned for years, stoked with every reminder of the Emperor's existence.
The day will come, she vowed silently. When his power fails, when the empire trembles, when his life slips from his grasp… I will be there to see it. And on that day, I will take back everything he ever stole.
Her eyes softened when Xu Li glanced up, the mask sliding perfectly back into place. She reached across the table, placing her hand gently over her daughter's.
"You've grown strong, Xu Li," she said softly, the lie and the truth woven together in her tone.
Inside, her hatred remained — silent, patient, unbreakable.
The gentle pressure of Lian Hua's hand over Xu Li's lingered a moment longer before she withdrew it, setting her teacup down with a quiet click.
"Xu Li," she began, her voice soft yet carrying an edge that made her daughter's fingers pause on her chopsticks, "there is something I've never told you… something about the man you call Father."
Xu Li's brow furrowed. "Mother?"
Lian Hua's gaze lowered to the untouched dishes before her, as though looking into the past itself. "Before I was Empress, I had a younger sister. She was bright, gentle, and kinder than I ever was. She believed the world could be fair if you met cruelty with grace."
Her lips tightened, the faintest crack in her usually flawless composure. "The Emperor saw her beauty… and he took it. Without consent. Without care for her pleas."
Xu Li's eyes widened, her grip on the chopsticks trembling.
"He violated her," Lian Hua said plainly, each word sharp as a blade. "And when she could no longer bear the shame, the whispers, the hollow life that followed… she took her own life."
The room felt colder, the delicate aromas of the meal fading under the weight of her words.
"I buried her myself," Lian Hua continued, her voice low but steady. "I swore to the heavens that I would never forgive him. Not for her death. Not for the way he stains everything he touches."
Xu Li opened her mouth, but no words came. Her mother's eyes finally met hers, and in them there was no disguise — only a raw, burning hatred that seemed as immortal as the crown she wore.
"That is why," Lian Hua said, her tone like steel wrapped in silk, "I will never look upon the Emperor without remembering the blood on his hands. And why, even as I love you… I will never stop hating the blood you carry."
Xu Li's breath caught in her throat. She had always known her mother's hatred for the Emperor ran deep, but this… this truth felt like a blade slipping into her chest.
Her hands tightened into fists in her lap. "Why… why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Lian Hua's expression softened, but only slightly. "You were a child. What good would it have done to place such a burden on your shoulders then? You could not have changed what happened… and I would not let his sins poison your heart before you understood the world."
"But it's still my blood," Xu Li whispered, her voice breaking. She looked down at her hands as if they carried the stain her mother spoke of. "Part of me… is him."
Lian Hua reached across the table again, tilting her daughter's chin up so their eyes met. "Part of you," she said firmly, "is me. And that part is stronger, purer, and worth more than anything he has ever given. You are my daughter first."
Tears pricked Xu Li's eyes, her throat tight. "Then… if you hate him so much… and if my blood reminds you of him… why do you still love me?"
Lian Hua's gaze softened in a way Xu Li had rarely seen. "Because you are not him. Because every day you live, you prove that his blood does not define you. And because—" her voice caught for the first time "—you are all I have left of my sister. Her spirit lives in you, no matter what blood you bear."
The words broke something inside Xu Li. She rose from her seat and stepped around the table, sinking to her knees beside her mother and wrapping her arms around her.
Lian Hua stiffened briefly, then returned the embrace, holding her daughter close. Neither spoke for a long time — the only sound was the faint rustle of silk and the muted fall of snow outside the palace windows.
And though the hatred in Lian Hua's heart for the Emperor would never fade, in that moment it was tempered by the warmth of the one person who made it bearable.
They stayed in the embrace for a long while, but when Xu Li finally pulled back, her face was different. The lingering tears were still there, but behind them burned something harder, sharper — a flame that had just been lit.
Her hands clenched into fists against her lap, knuckles whitening.
"I will kill him," she said, her voice low but edged with venom.
Lian Hua studied her daughter in silence. There was no hesitation in Xu Li's tone, no wavering in her gaze. This wasn't the petulant anger of youth — it was a vow.
Her mother's lips curved in a faint, bittersweet smile. "Then you will need strength far beyond what you have now," she said quietly. "Strength to stand against the throne… and the will to see it through without becoming the very thing you hate."
Xu Li nodded once, her jaw tight. "I don't care how long it takes. I don't care what I have to do. I will see him fall."
Lian Hua reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her daughter's face. "Then remember this, Xu Li — your anger is a weapon. Wield it wisely… or it will wield you."
For a moment, neither spoke. The cold light from the snow outside spilled across the dining table, catching in Xu Li's eyes and making the resolve there gleam like tempered steel.
In that moment, mother and daughter were bound by the same hatred — the same quiet promise of a reckoning yet to come.
Lian Hua's hand lingered on her daughter's cheek for a moment longer before she withdrew it, her expression settling into a quiet, solemn calm.
"Tomorrow," she said softly, "we will visit my sister… your aunt. The place where I buried her is in the mountains, far from the noise of the palace."
Xu Li's breath caught. She had never been there — had never even asked, sensing it was too painful for her mother to speak of.
"She deserved peace," Lian Hua continued, her gaze drifting toward the snow-covered peaks visible beyond the palace walls. "It is a place where the wind carries only the truth, and the earth remembers every tear I shed for her."
Xu Li's fingers curled tightly into her skirts. "I want to see it. I want to honor her."
"You will," Lian Hua said, her voice certain. "And perhaps… you will understand why I cannot forgive."
The two sat in silence once more, the tea between them growing cold, the meal untouched. But in their hearts, the weight of tomorrow pressed heavy — a journey not just to a grave, but into the depths of grief, love, and hatred that had shaped them both.
Chapter 898 – "Paths to the Same Mountain"
The early morning mist still clung to the slopes, curling low between the ancient pines. A waterfall's distant murmur blended with the whisper of wind over stone, carrying the scent of moss and fresh snow.
On one side of the mountain path, Alex walked at an unhurried pace, Ying Hua cradled in his arms in a relaxed princess carry. She wore her silver-grey hanfu today, the flowing sleeves catching in the breeze, but beneath it, she was bare for him alone. Every so often she glanced up at his face with quiet adoration, her mind lost in the rare joy of simply traveling together.
"Father," she murmured, "if I could freeze this moment, I would."
Alex's lips curved faintly, but he didn't answer — he only adjusted his hold on her and continued the climb toward the high plateau where he'd been told there was a clear view of the valley and a small, ancient shrine.
Far below on another winding path, a carriage painted in deep imperial red stopped at the edge of the trail. Empress Lian Hua stepped down first, her robes sweeping like silk clouds around her legs, followed by Princess Xu Li in her softer winter colors. Two handmaidens stayed behind; this journey, Lian Hua insisted, was for the two of them alone.
"We walk from here," the Empress said. Her voice was calm, but Xu Li could sense the weight behind it.
They began their ascent, the path narrowing and twisting. Lian Hua's gaze never wavered from the mountain ahead, each step carrying her closer to the place she had avoided for years — the secluded grave where she had buried her sister with her own hands. Xu Li followed in silence, her thoughts a mixture of curiosity, sorrow, and the ember of hatred that had been lit the night before.
High above, the two paths curved and began to draw closer, though neither party yet knew of the other's presence. The air grew clearer, the morning sun filtering through thinning mist until a small plateau began to take shape — a flat expanse ringed with weathered stones, and at its center, the worn shrine that held the memory of a woman long gone.
Two paths, two sets of footsteps.
One destination.
Alex stepped onto the plateau first, his boots crunching softly on the frost-dusted stone. The shrine stood ahead, small but dignified, its wooden beams weathered by wind and snow. Moss clung to the carved base, and offerings long since faded lay in the shallow alcove before it.
He set Ying Hua gently on her feet. She looked up at him with a faint smile, brushing her silver-grey hanfu smooth.
"It's beautiful here, Father… quiet," she said softly, slipping her hand into his.
They had only taken a few steps toward the shrine when the sound of approaching footsteps reached them from the path below. Two sets — steady, deliberate.
Ying Hua's brows drew together. We came here for just us…
A moment later, Empress Lian Hua emerged from the mist, her figure regal and severe in deep imperial robes. At her side walked Xu Li, her expression curious but reserved. The moment Lian Hua's eyes landed on Alex and Ying Hua standing before the shrine, her composure sharpened like a blade.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her tone clipped and laced with authority.
The words struck Ying Hua like a rock thrown into still water. Her fingers tightened around Alex's hand, her body going rigid. Her head tilted slightly up toward the Empress, and in the next instant—
The air exploded with weight.
Her 9th-level pressure surged outward without restraint, crushing down on the plateau with the force of a mountain. The frost on the stones cracked audibly, and the mist swirled violently away from her small frame.
Lian Hua staggered a half-step, her chest tightening under the invisible force. At 7th level, she was no stranger to powerful auras — but this was different. It wasn't just strength; it was fierce, absolute possession radiating from a girl barely 120 centimeters tall.
Xu Li gasped, her knees buckling as the pressure washed over her. At only 6th level, she felt as if a great beast had fixed its gaze on her — the weight pressing down on her lungs, making her breath come short. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She's just a little girl…?
Ying Hua's silver-grey hair shifted in the current of her own unleashed power, her hanfu fluttering like the wings of some celestial predator. Her grey eyes narrowed, sharp and cold as moonlit steel.
"You're disturbing our time together," she said, her voice low but carrying easily over the pressure that pressed the air itself. "That is a crime in my eyes."
Alex's hand settled lightly on her shoulder, the only thing keeping her from advancing outright. His calm touch made her pause, though the pressure didn't lessen.
Lian Hua's gaze flickered from Alex to the girl at his side, realization dawning that this tiny, doll-like figure was radiating a power far beyond her own. Xu Li's eyes darted upward, still locked on Ying Hua in stunned silence, her mind trying to reconcile her size with the suffocating dominance she felt.
"Who… are you?" Lian Hua asked, not with the confidence of an Empress now, but with the wary calculation of someone who had just stepped into a storm she didn't understand.
Ying Hua's lips curved into a faint, cold smile. "His daughter," she said simply, as if that alone explained everything — as if it was the highest title in existence.
The air between the four of them vibrated with tension. The shrine's stillness was gone, replaced by the crackling friction of power, pride, and the collision of worlds.
Alex's hand remained on Ying Hua's shoulder, his fingers pressing with the quiet authority that only he could command.
"That's enough," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the charged air like a blade through silk.
The weight of Ying Hua's aura faltered, then receded like a tide pulled back to sea. The frost-laced stones sighed under the release, and Xu Li took a deep, shaky breath, her knees still trembling.
Ying Hua turned her face up to Alex, her expression softening immediately for him — the cold glint in her eyes melting into that familiar, worshipful warmth. "Father… she interrupted us," she murmured, almost pouting.
"I know," Alex replied evenly, brushing a lock of silver-grey hair from her cheek. "But there's no need to make enemies over it."
His gaze shifted to Lian Hua and Xu Li. The Empress had regained some of her poise, but there was a faint tension in her shoulders, the kind that came from standing in the presence of someone she knew could end her with a thought.
"This place isn't claimed by anyone," Alex said calmly. "We came here to enjoy the view. If you've come to pay respects, that's your right."
Lian Hua studied him for a long moment. There was a weight in his tone — not a threat, but a certainty — that told her he wasn't someone to provoke. "We have," she said finally. "This shrine is… personal to us."
Ying Hua's hand tightened on Alex's arm, as if to silently declare and he's personal to me. But she didn't flare her aura again; his presence held her in check.
Xu Li's eyes moved between them, her mind full of questions she didn't dare ask. This man, this girl — they were not from her world, yet they stood here with an ease that made even her mother tread carefully.
Alex let the silence stretch just enough before he spoke again. "Then perhaps," he said, "we can share the space for a while. Respectfully."
It wasn't a request. It was a decision.
And just like that, the mountain plateau shifted from a battleground of pride to a fragile, temporary truce — one that could shatter with the wrong word.
Lian Hua's gaze stayed fixed on Alex, her voice firm but measured.
"We came here to pay our respects to the dead," she said. "My sister… and her aunt," she added, motioning subtly toward Xu Li beside her.
Alex inclined his head slightly. "Then we'll give you that space — with respect, and without disturbance."
For a moment, Lian Hua just studied him. Her eyes narrowed faintly. No cultivation level…? There was no visible aura, no trace of spiritual pressure — to her senses, he was like an ordinary man. And yet the girl beside him… the one who had nearly flattened them with her 9th-level presence… was clearly deferential to him in a way that went beyond simple filial piety.
Ying Hua caught the flicker of thought in the Empress's eyes and smiled faintly — not warmly, but like a predator amused by its prey's ignorance.
"My father," she said, her voice calm but carrying an edge of pride so sharp it could cut, "is stronger than me by a countless and enormous margin."
Xu Li blinked, startled, remembering the suffocating pressure from moments ago. Stronger than her?
Lian Hua's expression didn't change much, but there was the faintest tightening at the corner of her mouth. She glanced back at Alex, reassessing. If what the girl said was true… then this man standing calmly before her wasn't just dangerous — he was something far beyond her current understanding.
Alex only gave a small shake of his head, as if trying to downplay the statement, but Ying Hua's fingers slipped into his hand again, squeezing lightly in silent defiance.
Chapter 899 – "Restoration"
The wind whispered through the pines as the four of them stood before the weathered shrine. The wood bore the marks of decades — moss creeping up its base, carvings worn smooth by time, the offering platform sagging slightly under its own weight.
Lian Hua stepped forward to kneel, Xu Li following her lead. They each placed a small offering — incense and folded white paper — at the base of the shrine. The Empress's movements were precise, her face calm, but Alex could see the faint tension in her shoulders.
Ying Hua stayed close to him, her eyes flicking between the two women and the shrine. She didn't care for strangers interrupting their time together, but something in her father's expression made her hold her tongue.
Alex stepped forward quietly, his gaze lingering on the cracks in the stone foundation, the weathered edges of the carvings. He placed a palm flat against the wood, his eyes half-closing as he breathed in the place's fading energy.
A small place of memory should be kept whole…
His free hand rose slightly, fingers sketching a sigil in the air. Golden threads of mana began to weave in a slow, deliberate pattern, spiraling outward from his palm. A faint hum filled the plateau as the threads linked into a lattice — a magic formula of impossible complexity — each symbol locking into place with a quiet chime.
Then came the second layer.
A subtle pulse, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, as Alex called upon the Law of Mana itself. Time bent subtly around the shrine — not in a jarring lurch, but as if the years themselves were unwinding in reverse. Moss retreated into nothingness, cracks sealed, wood regained its color and strength. The carvings deepened into their original sharpness, every stroke and line as crisp as the day they were made. Even the air seemed fresher, lighter.
When he lowered his hand, the shrine stood renewed — not simply repaired, but restored to the exact moment it had first been completed, as though untouched by the decades since.
Lian Hua's breath caught. She stared openly, the composure of an Empress giving way to raw astonishment. "...What is this technique?" she asked, her voice low, almost disbelieving.
Xu Li, still kneeling, glanced between her mother and Alex, her own eyes wide. "It's… like time itself turned backward…"
Ying Hua's lips curved in quiet pride. "It's nothing," she said smoothly, though the gleam in her eyes betrayed her satisfaction. "For Father, this is as simple as breathing."
Lian Hua looked at her sharply, but the younger girl's tone carried no boast — only absolute certainty.
Alex stepped back from the shrine, brushing the last of the golden motes from his fingers. "Your sister deserved a place that still remembers her," he said simply.
The Empress's lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Xu Li bowed her head toward him, her usual reserve softened by something warmer — gratitude, perhaps, or the first seed of curiosity that could grow into something far more dangerous.
For a long moment, Lian Hua simply stood there, her gaze shifting between the restored shrine and the man who had done it as easily as one might straighten a crooked picture. The Empress of the Eastern Empire was not easily impressed — yet what she had just witnessed wasn't mere skill. It was control over the very fabric of mana and time, woven together in a way she had never even read about.
Her posture eased just slightly, enough to let a faint breath escape. "...Thank you," she said at last, the words quiet but sincere. "I don't know what technique that was, but… my sister would have been grateful."
Alex met her eyes briefly, nodding once. "You're welcome."
Lian Hua hesitated, then took a single step closer. "If I may… what are you two doing here?" Her tone was still careful, but there was less edge now — more genuine curiosity.
"We're just traveling," Alex replied simply, his voice steady, unhurried. "Enjoying the places worth seeing."
Beside him, Ying Hua's fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his sleeve. She didn't speak, but her gaze on Lian Hua was unblinking — not hostile now, but still the sharp, watchful kind of look that said you are speaking to my father; choose your words well.
Xu Li glanced between them, her curiosity only deepening. She had the distinct feeling there was far more to this "just traveling" than the words suggested, but she kept silent, waiting to see what her mother would say next.
The plateau had grown quiet again, the shrine now pristine, the air holding that peculiar, crisp clarity after great magic.
Alex's gaze shifted slightly, taking in more than just Lian Hua's guarded expression. The folds of her robe couldn't hide the gentle but unmistakable curve of her belly — the kind that spoke of months rather than weeks.
"You're pregnant," he observed quietly.
Lian Hua's lips pressed together, and for a moment she seemed on the verge of denying it. But there was no point — his eyes had already seen past the surface. Her hand drifted almost unconsciously to rest over her stomach.
"Yes," she said at last, her voice even but carrying a faint undercurrent of bitterness. "This child was born from the man I did not love."
The words were simple, but they landed with the weight of something far heavier.
Ying Hua's expression shifted subtly, the faintest glint of disdain sparking in her eyes — not at the child, but at the thought of any woman forced into such a bond. She didn't speak, but her fingers tightened on Alex's arm, her protective nature stirring.
Xu Li looked at her mother, confusion and a shadow of sympathy crossing her face. She'd never heard her speak so openly about something so personal, especially in front of strangers.
Alex didn't push for details — not yet. His gaze held hers for a moment longer, the silence between them saying enough.
The moment lingered, heavy with unspoken things, until Lian Hua straightened her posture, smoothing the sleeve that still rested over her belly. Her tone shifted, more formal now.
"I am Lian Hua," she said, giving the faintest nod. "Empress of the Eastern Empire."
Xu Li stepped forward slightly, her head held high despite the tension. "Xu Li," she said clearly. "Daughter of the Empress."
Alex inclined his head politely. "Alex," he replied, his voice steady and unadorned.
Beside him, Ying Hua's silver-grey hair caught the light as she spoke. "Ying Hua. His daughter." The way she said his left no doubt of the depth of that claim — a statement of identity, possession, and pride all in one.
Xu Li's eyes flicked briefly toward Ying Hua, taking in her small stature, her beauty, and the calm certainty in her voice.
"Travelers, then?" Lian Hua asked, her gaze returning to Alex.
"That's right," he said evenly. "Nothing more complicated than that."
The formalities done, the plateau seemed a little less tense, though the undercurrent of wariness remained — like two wild creatures circling, not yet deciding if the other was a threat or simply passing through.
As the formal words faded into the stillness of the mountain air, Ying Hua's gaze lingered on the Empress and her daughter. She studied them the way one measures a fine blade — noting the poise, the bearing, and the unspoken strength in their eyes.
So these are the Empress and Princess…
The plan she'd carried in her mind for days — to guide her father into claiming them, reshaping their bloodlines as he had done with her own mother — suddenly felt… irrelevant. Not because she'd lost interest, but because now that they stood here in front of him, she realized there was no need to scheme.
If Father wishes it, it will happen naturally. And if he doesn't… She almost smirked to herself. …then I'd rather keep traveling with him than waste a moment forcing what will come in its own time.
Her fingers tightened faintly on Alex's arm, the possessive warmth in her touch hidden beneath her calm face.
From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a quiet moment between introductions — but in Ying Hua's mind, her priorities had shifted. The Empress and Princess might still become part of his world, but she no longer cared about executing the plan.
Chapter 900 – "The Shrine's Silence"
The stone path wound gently upward, shaded by tall pines whose branches whispered softly in the wind. At its end, the restored shrine stood beneath a natural arch of moss-covered rock, the air here carrying the clean scent of mountain water and incense.
Lian Hua stepped forward first, her movements deliberate. From within her sleeve, she drew a narrow lacquered box, opening it to reveal three long sticks of pale incense. Xu Li took two of them in both hands, her posture straight, and together they knelt before the shrine.
Neither spoke. The only sound was the faint crackle of the incense tips as they caught flame from the Empress's flint, followed by the gentle hiss as smoke began to curl upward into the still air.
Alex stood back with Ying Hua at his side, watching without intrusion. The faint golden motes still lingering in the shrine's wood and stone — the remnants of his restoration — glimmered like the memory of sunlight.
Lian Hua placed her incense in the bronze holder, her hands lingering for a moment longer than custom demanded. Xu Li followed, her motions more restrained but no less sincere. They both bowed deeply, their foreheads nearly touching the smooth stone before them.
Ying Hua's gaze softened ever so slightly. She did not share their grief, but she recognized devotion when she saw it.
When the two rose, neither spoke right away. The shrine seemed to demand silence, the kind that lets memory breathe.
Finally, Lian Hua turned slightly toward Alex. "Thank you," she said again, her voice quiet, but this time there was no formality in it — only truth.
Alex inclined his head in acknowledgment, saying nothing more.
For a moment, all four stood there together, the incense smoke twining upward into the mountain breeze, carrying with it whatever each of them had brought to this place — grief, respect, curiosity, and the beginnings of something unspoken.
As the last curl of incense smoke drifted toward the sky, Alex's gaze lingered on the shrine — but not on the wood, the stone, or the offerings. His eyes seemed to look past all of it, into something only he could sense.
"I can feel her," he said quietly, his voice cutting through the hush. "The woman you came to honor… she hasn't passed on. Her soul has been here all this time, bound to this place."
Lian Hua's head snapped toward him, her composure cracking for the first time. "What are you saying?"
Alex stepped forward, his hand brushing the air just above the incense burner. A faint pulse of golden light spread outward from his palm, rippling across the shrine's surface. The motes of divine mana from earlier flared again, brighter this time, swirling upward in a slow, graceful spiral.
Then — like mist taking form — a figure began to appear.
A young woman, her beauty clear even in the ethereal shimmer of her form, stood before them. She wore a simple robe, her hair bound with a delicate cord, her eyes wide as if awakening from a long dream.
"Lian Xin…" Lian Hua's voice trembled on the name. Her hand rose halfway to her lips before she forced it down again.
Xu Li's eyes widened in shock. "Aunt…?"
Lian Xin looked between them, a faint smile forming as her gaze settled on her sister. "Hua…" she said softly, her voice carrying like a breeze through leaves.
Ying Hua watched in stillness, her silver-grey eyes glinting. She understood now — Alex hadn't simply repaired the shrine. He had made the spirit within it visible to all, given her substance so the living could see and hear.
Lian Hua took an unsteady step forward, her usual regal bearing replaced with something far more human. "I… I thought I would never see you again."
"You have," Alex said simply. "For now, her soul is anchored enough to speak with you."
Lian Hua's steps were hesitant at first, as if afraid that getting too close might cause the vision to vanish. But Lian Xin didn't fade — her form only grew clearer as her sister neared, the faint glow around her softening into something almost warm.
When they were just a breath apart, Lian Hua reached out instinctively. Her fingers passed through her sister's shoulder, but the sensation made her gasp — not the chill of a ghost, but the gentle resistance of something almost tangible.
"You're… real," Lian Hua whispered, her voice breaking. "I've prayed for this for so long…"
Lian Xin's smile was small, bittersweet. "I've been here, Hua. Watching you. Watching the girl you've raised. I just… couldn't reach you."
Xu Li moved forward, her eyes shining. "Aunt… I've only known you from my mother's stories. I… I'm glad to see you, even like this."
The spirit's gaze softened as she looked at Xu Li. "You've grown with your mother's eyes… and your own strength."
Lian Hua's composure finally cracked, her breath shuddering. "I couldn't protect you. I couldn't stop him—"
"You lived," Lian Xin interrupted gently. "And you carried on. That's what matters."
The two sisters stood there in the incense-scented air, their words weaving between grief and comfort, between years lost and a fleeting moment found.
Behind them, Alex watched in silence for a while, his expression unreadable. Then, when Lian Hua finally turned to him, eyes wet and searching, he spoke:
"I can do more than this."
She blinked, unsure she'd heard correctly. "What?"
"I can bring her back," Alex said evenly. "Not just as a soul bound to this place — but alive. Whole. As she was meant to be."
The words fell like a stone into still water, rippling through the mountain air. Xu Li's breath caught. Lian Hua stared at him, her emotions tangled between hope and disbelief. Even Ying Hua's calm composure shifted, a faint glint of curiosity in her eyes.
"You… can?" Lian Hua asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alex met her gaze steadily. "Yes."
Alex stepped forward, the golden light around his hands brightening. He extended one palm toward Lian Xin, the glow washing over her translucent form like sunlight through mist.
Her eyes widened faintly at the contact. "You… can touch me?"
"I can do more than that," Alex said. His tone was calm, matter-of-fact, as if discussing something as simple as shaping clay. "Your soul still holds every thread of your body's blueprint — down to the last strand of your hair, the last beat of your heart."
He glanced briefly at Lian Hua. "As long as that genetic memory remains, I can make a body for her. One that will accept her soul without resistance."
Lian Hua's lips parted, disbelief flickering with a spark of desperate hope. "You're saying… you could give her life again?"
"Yes," he answered simply. "I've already seen it in her soul — the patterns are whole, uncorrupted. Recreating the vessel will be easy."
Lian Xin looked between them, her ethereal hands curling against her chest. "And if you do… I will truly be alive? Not bound to this shrine?"
"You'll breathe, walk, eat, feel," Alex said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of certainty. "You'll be free from this place."
Ying Hua's gaze lingered on her father, a quiet, admiring pride in her eyes. She knew this was nothing he needed to do — yet he offered it without hesitation.
Lian Hua took a step closer to him, the air between them charged with raw emotion. "If you can… then please. I want her back."
Alex nodded once. His hand still rested against Lian Xin's form, the glow slowly sinking deeper into her essence. "Then it begins."
Alex lowered his hand from Lian Xin's soul, then raised it into the air beside the shrine. His fingers traced deliberate arcs, each motion leaving behind a faint ribbon of blue light. The lines interwove, bending and spiraling until a complex mana circuit hung in the air — an intricate lattice glowing like a constellation brought down to earth.
The empty space within the pattern began to shift. Threads of light spun together, weaving flesh from mana, bone from essence, hair from the faintest shimmer of silver-white energy. The form became clearer with each heartbeat — the curve of shoulders, the fall of hair, the delicate shape of her hands.
Lian Hua and Xu Li stood frozen, their eyes locked on the miracle unfolding before them. Ying Hua watched in stillness, though the faintest smile played at her lips, knowing her father's mastery made such things seem effortless.
When the last filament of light settled into place, the body stood complete — flawless, whole, and as if it had been sleeping rather than lost to death.
Alex turned back to Lian Xin's soul. "Go," he said simply.
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment — a silent thank-you — before she stepped forward. As she crossed the threshold of the blue circuit, her soul began to sink into the waiting vessel.
The glow around her dimmed, the shimmer fading as her new body drew breath for the first time. Her chest rose, a sharp inhale cutting through the silence. Then her eyes opened — clear, bright, and alive.
She swayed, unsteady, until Lian Hua caught her in trembling arms. "Xin… you're here… you're alive…"
Lian Xin clung to her sister, the warmth of real flesh against her cheek, tears spilling freely. "I'm home."
Alex watched them quietly, his work complete.
The two sisters remained locked in their embrace, Xu Li standing close with a stunned, almost reverent expression. Lian Xin pulled back just enough to study her niece's face, brushing away one of Xu Li's tears with a trembling hand.
Alex's gaze drifted over her — not with desire, but the assessing calm of a craftsman noting the final details of his work. Then he let out a short, almost self-deprecating breath.
"…My bad," he said evenly. "I forgot to make clothes for her."
The words seemed to hang in the air for a beat.
Lian Hua blinked, then, realizing what he meant, quickly pulled her outer robe from her shoulders and wrapped it around Lian Xin. Xu Li's ears flushed pink as she turned her head away, though she kept glancing back despite herself.
Lian Xin looked down at herself in mild surprise, then gave a small laugh — the first living sound from her lips in years. "I suppose… that's one way to return to the world."
Ying Hua, still at Alex's side, let a faint smirk tug at the corner of her mouth. "Father has many talents. Modesty is optional."
Lian Hua shot her a faint glare but said nothing, focusing instead on securing the robe around her sister. Alex didn't appear embarrassed — only thoughtful, as though already considering the next step.
"I'll make proper clothing later," he said, almost offhandedly. "For now, she should rest."