[Vol. 1] Chapter 2 - Saaveh
Yonchae wanted to cry, desperately, but no tears came.
It was in that moment a buzzing shot through her ears, snapping her to her senses. A feeling of surreal unreality settled around her.
In front of her floated a white, rectangular screen, the familiar kind you see when opening a folder on a computer. It was titled Cloudsave, and it presented two options: Save and Load.
So far, it was empty.
A wave of apprehension, mixed with trembling excitement and nervousness, washed over her.
Thank the gods I wasn't abandoned, she thought.
"My golden finger has arrived!"
I take it back, game developers. You are not trash!
The way she saw it, in her current situation, this was exactly what she needed to survive.
"Can you talk? Hey, System? Cloudsave? Hello? Customer service...?" Yonchae chattered as if she were speaking to someone.
The door opened.
At that moment, a middle-aged woman with a wrinkled face entered. She stared at Yonchae as one might look at a mentally ill patient, then respectfully lowered her gaze. "Young Miss Xiaolan, I am here for the laundry."
"Oh, okay," Yonchae replied instinctively as the woman, dressed in simple, plain robes, came to gather what appeared to be worn clothes.
Upon hearing Yonchae's words, the woman trembled. She stepped closer to offer comfort. "Whatever your secondary gender turns out to be, it won't change a thing. The Lin family stands by you, no matter what."
As if doused with cold water, Yonchae's face turned ashen pale. Young Miss? The Lin family?
By the time she snapped out of her daze, the woman had already left with the laundry. Yonchae collected herself.
"I'm in…the Lin family?" she murmured.
As she shook her head, the name 'Xiaolan' finally registered. This body's name is Xiaolan.
Yonchae blinked. But there was no character named "Xiaolan" in the game… unless this person had died before the main storyline even began.
The realization landed like a heavy stone in her gut.
"No way…" She trembled, before resolutely clenching her hands into fists. I have to live. I absolutely have to live!
She sank back into a lotus position, scanning her new room. The place was a mess...strewn with cultivation scrolls and training equipment, nothing like the chambers of a typical noble lady.
But it made sense. The Lin family was, after all, a clan of… martial arts maniacs.
The image of herself with exaggerated, hulking muscles flashed through her mind.
Absolutely not!!
She took a deep breath, pressing two index fingers to her temples as she desperately sifted through her memory of the game's plot.
The Lin family... Surname Lin... The only male lead connected to that name was Lin Xiao, the third male lead of Crimson Dynasty.
A light bulb flickered to life above Xiaolan's head.
The simple answer? Just cling to the male lead's thigh.
Just outside stood a tall, slender man with tousled hair of a muted blue-gray, falling naturally around his face.
His eyes were long and narrow, and his features together gave a cool, refined impression...a look sharply contrasted by his disheveled hair.
He walked past the two maidservants as quietly as a breeze, going entirely unnoticed.
One was young, and the other, middle-aged, carried a laundry basket. His pace slowed as their hushed conversation reached him.
"Ah, Sister Hong! How was the young miss this morning?" the younger maid, A-Ling, asked.
"That one?" Sister Hong grumbled, shifting the basket on her hip.
"Do not get me started. I knocked and got no answer. I went in and she just stared at me the whole time. She said nothing until I explained myself. Then all I got was a flat 'okay.'"
"Hm," A-Ling mused. "Perhaps she was just deep in thought? You know how she gets."
"Deep in trouble, more like," Sister Hong sighed, her tone softening from irritation into weary caution. "Listen, you are still a growing Omega. A quiet master is not always a kind one. Best keep a polite distance."
A-Ling giggled. "Oh, come now. At least life is never dull with Young Mistress Xiaolan. Remember the great cat painting incident? When she turned the courtyard mouser into a striped tiger?"
A reluctant smile touched Sister Hong's lips. "I remember the scratches more. That beast fought three baths like a demon."
She shook her head, the fondness fading back into seriousness. "Still. There is a strangeness to her lately. A different kind of quiet."
"Hm," A-Ling murmured, her voice dropping. "Maybe it is in the blood? After all, every Lin is born an Alpha. And you know the revelation ritual is in a month..."
The man's eyes, which had been passively observing, sharpened at the final remark before he continued on his way.
Tok-tok—
The door opened. The one who opened it was Xiaolan, staring wide-eyed and nervous at the man before her.
A faint, closed-eye smile touched his lips as he bowed his head. "Miss Xiaolan. I've been told to make myself useful to you."
Yonchae—no, Xiaolan—looked at the man with a stunned expression. Wasn't this Lin Xiao's personal assistant from the game?
The succession competition was tense, but was it this insane? Had Lin Xiao already sent a shadow guard after her?
Two possibilities came to mind:
First, Lin Xiao was already suspicious of her and held some past grievance against the original host.
Second… Lin Xiao wanted her dead.
"Save." Xiaolan whispered.
"Hm?" Her assigned shadow guard straightened, his posture shifting from a formal bow to one of watchful curiosity.
He had purposely ruffled his muted blue-gray hair to appear more approachable, but the keen edge of a cultivator's focus was sharp in his gaze.
"Did you say something, Miss?" His voice was low, a careful tone of attentive service that did not mask his vigilance.
A successor's safety was etched into a shadow guard's bones, and his senses, honed for threat and intention, had caught the singular, whispered word. Save.
His already narrow eyes thinned further. "What do you need?"
Xiaolan was snapped out of her focus on the screen.
Her mind scrambled, and she blurted, "I said... safe," her voice climbing an octave. "I was just… performing a new cultivation mantra. From the West. Saa-veh."
"It means to, uh, preserve inner peace. I was just... centering my qi."
Then she gave a weak, demonstrative hum. "Saa-veh."
"I see," he murmured. He did not see. "A... foreign mantra. For qi." He gave a slow, deliberate nod. "This one... has never heard of such a technique."
Xiaolan's toes could have dug out a living room, a bedroom, and a whole mansion by now. "Yes, saa-veh. Mhm," she nodded along, her ears growing red and hot.
He simply waited, his expression one of patient attentiveness. The silence stretched, becoming its own form of pressure.
Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and utterly, devastatingly reasonable. "This one is Bai Yu, assigned as your guard.
— To properly assess your environment and routines, I must observe all aspects of your cultivation. Please, Miss, proceed with the demonstration. I will observe, quietly."
Xiaolan stared. You think I don't know who you are?! You're a shadow guard! Lin Xiao's shadow guard, and he sent you here!
Then Bai Yu's last words fully registered in her mind.
…a whole demonstration.
…of the cultivation mantra.
Her blood ran cold, then hot, then seemed to evaporate entirely.
A demonstration. Of "Saa-veh." She was expected to stand here, in front of this human lie detector with the calm, expectant eyes, and perform.
"A demonstration," she repeated, the word brittle.
"For clarity," he affirmed, inclining his head. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back, the picture of a dedicated scholar awaiting a lecture.
"The form, the breathwork, the precise intent behind the foreign syllable. To ensure I can account for its… unique energy signature in my assessments."
Every possible escape route slammed shut in her mind.
She could not refuse, it would confirm his every suspicion about her strangeness.
She could not run, he was a shadow guard. She had to perform.
"O-Of course," she stammered, her voice thin. "For… security."
She slowly, awkwardly, shifted her feet into what she hoped resembled a foundational stance.
Her hands came up, hovering uncertainly in the air. Bai Yu's gaze was a physical weight, tracing her every fidget.
"First," she began, her mouth dry, "you must… find your center." She placed a hand over her stomach, patting it gently.
Bai Yu's eyes followed the movement. He did not blink.
"Then," she continued, forcing a semblance of calm into her voice,
"you breathe in… the peace of the world…" She took an exaggerated, shaky inhale. "And you breathe out… the inner turmoil." Her exhale was a rushed puff.
She could see the absolute, clinical nothingness in his expression. It was worse than skepticism.
"And then," she whispered, "you… you summon the stabilizing vibration. The… the core of preservation."
She closed her eyes, unable to bear his sightless observation any longer. "Saa…"
She hummed, a low, wavering note.
"…veh."
The sound died in the thick air of the room. She cracked one eye open.
Bai Yu had not moved. After a long, excruciating moment, he gave a single, slow nod.
"I see," he said, and the words hung in the silence, utterly empty. "A most… introspective technique."
The heat in Xiaolan's face was now a permanent, searing brand.
She had just performed a fake, one-woman interpretive dance of a save screen for a elite operative, and his only review was that it was "introspective."
She had never longed for a real quick-load function more in her life.
"Load." She whispered.