The imperial capital, Shen Yao City, had never looked more resplendent.
Scarlet banners fluttered from high walls and towers, adorned with the golden insignia of the Shen Yao Empire — a five-clawed dragon coiled around the heavens. Fragrant petals were scattered along the streets, and intricately carved lanterns floated like stars above the avenues. From rooftops and balconies, noble families and commoners alike peered out, eager to glimpse the momentous return of their nation's living legend — Princess Shen Ruòxuě.
The drums of celebration echoed in steady rhythm, and though guards patrolled every sector of the city with sharp precision, there was no tension. Only order, peace, and joyous anticipation.
From a high balcony within the inner palace, Lady Hei Lan stood dressed in a flowing robe of violet silk, trimmed with white lotus patterns. Her normally composed face bore a soft, almost youthful smile — the look of a mother awaiting her beloved child.
Beside her stood Lady Qingcheng, cradling her son, Cheung Fansheng, in her arms. The infant stirred quietly, nuzzling against his mother's warmth.
"It feels like yesterday she was just a little girl, chasing butterflies behind my courtyard," Hei Lan said, her voice almost dreamy. "And now… she stands at the peak of the younger generation."
Qingcheng turned toward her, offering a warm smile. "Sister, your pride is well earned. Shen Ruòxuě is not only the pride of the empire — she is the pride of us all."
Hei Lan lowered her gaze modestly, though her smile remained.
"She barely visits anymore. Always training. Always under pressure. Sometimes I wonder if she even remembers what it's like to be a child." Her voice was light, but Qingcheng caught the flicker of sadness behind her eyes.
"She remembers," Qingcheng replied gently. "No matter how far she goes, her heart knows where home is. Today proves that."
There was a quiet moment between the two before Hei Lan laughed softly. "You always know what to say."
She turned back toward the city streets and took a long breath, face glowing with emotion. "I want to cook something for her. Myself. Just like I used to. I must go and prepare."
"Let me help," Qingcheng offered.
"No, no. You've done enough," Hei Lan said, placing a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. "Stay with the baby. I'll return soon."
With that, she departed, her steps light despite the weight of memory and love pressing in her heart.
Meanwhile… In the shadowed courtyard outside Lady Nùi's residence…
The garden was silent save for the soft trickle of a koi pond and the occasional rustle of wind through white plum blossoms. Beneath an intricately carved pavilion, Lady Nùi sat at a red sandalwood desk, her brush dancing across parchment with careful precision.
Each stroke was clean, deliberate, and poisonous.
The secret missive she composed bore no formal seal, no name, and no sign of authorship — only enough veiled meaning to stir rumors, suspicion, and shame.
As she set the brush down and rolled the parchment, her expression shifted — no longer the graceful courtesan of courtly elegance, but a serpent with painted lips.
She snapped her fingers.
A ripple of spiritual energy shimmered in the air as she activated a clan technique, ancient and hidden.
From the still waters of the nearby pond, a ripple spread — then a shape rose, as though the surface had given birth to it.
A water bird, crow-like in shape, glimmering with blue and white feathers, emerged. Its beak and eyes were deep crimson, glowing faintly with a strange intelligence. A mutant variant, bred in secret by the Lü Clan, normal water birds are used exclusively by water path elementals but this variant bird is used only for Top secret and confidential operations, and it's existence is only known by the upper echelons of the lü Clan. Its speed surpassed normal birds, its flight path undetectable to spiritual formations, and its body would turn to mist once its mission was complete — leaving no trace behind.
Lady Nùi gazed at it with satisfaction and pride, as if admiring a cherished secret.
"You're more useful than most of the fools in this palace," she murmured.
She held the scroll before it. The bird opened its sharp beak and swallowed it whole, then extended its wings with a shimmer of water-light.
As it took flight and vanished into the distance, Lady Nùi leaned back in her chair, her lips curling.
"Oh, Qingcheng…" she whispered, voice thick with venomous delight.
"You really should have known better… than to make me feel inferior."
The last of her words were lost in the wind as she watched the bird disappear, her eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation and excitement.