It was a turning point for Xuanwu City—three days after Yun Che's plan was set into motion, the city had transformed beyond recognition.
Where once there were empty streets, fear, and suppression, now there was movement. Life. Hope.
At the foot of the Jin Family Watchkeep, a newly established marketplace burst with activity.
Merchants set up rows of colorful stalls offering goods at prices so low that commoners could hardly believe their eyes. Farmers, craftsmen, and wandering traders flooded in from nearby regions, eager to sell, buy, and trade without fear of gangs or corrupt officials.
With roads cleared of wolves and bandits, and patrols posted at every major route, people traveled freely again. Carriage services ran on schedule, transporting whole families and merchants across the province.
The sea of people flowing into the city was enormous.
The Jin Family—once cornered and oppressed—now swelled like a rising tide.
New faces. New talent. Blacksmiths, healers, formation artists, builders, carpenters, alchemists…
People of every craft and skill came seeking recruitment.
And Cang Yue's influence had done the impossible.
The nobles who aligned with her brought new alliances, investments, and legitimacy back to the Jin Family. Those who once abandoned them now sought refuge under their banner.
Meanwhile, Yun Che's vision reshaped the land itself.
His instant homes—modular structures built like fitted blocks—allowed rapid expansion around the Watchkeep. These durable houses could be assembled in under an hour, and with each passing day, more families found shelter.
As of today, nearly 6,000 people had registered under the Jin Family.
Seeing such growth, Jin Zhuo immediately mobilized his forces to clear surrounding forests. New villages, farmlands, and future districts would soon rise around the Watchkeep's hill. And with Yun Che's blueprints, construction would take days instead of months.
The only concerns were materials and food…
But those concerns quickly faded.
Through Cang Yue's new alliances, trade caravans returned, bringing abundant supplies.
And thanks to Nemu—the brilliant fiancée of Yun Che—food and basic resources flowed steadily through methods no one dared question.
The Jin higher-ups didn't know how she did it. They didn't care or more like they didn't dare to ask.
All they knew was that Nemu...could create more when needed.
And so, Xuanwu City—once drowning in corruption and decay—began to rise again.
Not as a province ruled by fear…
…but as a thriving beacon under the Jin Family's rebirth.
===============
Retsu and Mio spent the next three days offering medical aid to anyone in need. Their reputation spread quickly throughout the Watchkeep—two gentle veiled healers capable of treating wounds and illnesses that overwhelmed even seasoned local physicians. By dawn each day, crowds already lined the stone pathways, bowing gratefully as Retsu's soft voice called for the next patient.
Yet despite their skill, the two were careful—extremely careful.
They avoided using any system-based or Kido healing techniques, wary of drawing unwanted reverence or fear. Instead, they behaved like ordinary doctors, working with steady hands and calm voices, relying on the modern knowledge Yun Che taught them.
Retsu was never restricted from using Kidō healing, Health Potions, or even the rare Divine Water. After studying some part of Yun Che's Miracle of Life scripture, she mastered an entire spectrum of new medical techniques—each one a fusion of spiritual medicine, Kidō precision, and her own frightening genius.
And when Nemu supplied her with modern medical instruments far beyond this world's understanding, Retsu transformed into something unprecedented:
a modern wuxia doctor, equal parts saint, surgeon, and mad researcher.
But there was a darker truth beneath her serene smile.
Every patient she treated… was also an opportunity.
A test subject.
A chance to experiment with the new techniques Yun Che entrusted her with.
In the original timeline, Yun Che alone would've been hailed as the Medical Saint, revered by sects and empires alike.
But this time, he refused the spotlight. Instead of elevating himself, he pushed every ounce of medical brilliance toward the women around him—especially Retsu—letting them rise while he stayed in the shadows.
And Retsu, empowered by his teachings and unbound by moral hesitation, embraced the role he carved for her.
They used modern medicine disguised within this world's context: pain relievers crafted from Nemu's formulas, antibiotics disguised as "purification pills," antiseptics prepared from local herbs enhanced by technology, and clean surgical methods no physician in Xuanwu City had ever witnessed.
Nemu and Yun Che provided the equipment and the processes—small tools forged from modern alloys, efficient methods for sterilizing wounds, and precise measurements for dosage that no one in Xuanwu City had ever witnessed. To the people, it all appeared to be an advanced form of alchemy or a profound medical art long lost to the ages. In truth, they were techniques the Jin Family physicians could study and eventually teach, forming the foundation of a completely new medical tradition in the region.
Only Yun Che's group understood the reality behind it. They were quietly rebuilding the city's medical system using a seamless blend of modern science and cultivation-era innovation. And for the first time in years, ordinary citizens finally had access to real healthcare—not superstition, not exorbitantly priced pills, and not the diluted remedies pushed by corrupt clans. Just competent, effective, and compassionate healing delivered by people who genuinely cared.
Meanwhile, Yun Che worked tirelessly beside Retsu and Mio—not as a healer, but as a teacher. He gathered anyone willing to learn: young men eager to protect their families, elderly physicians who had long been overshadowed by noble alchemists, and retired herb gatherers with decades of forgotten wisdom. With patience and clarity, he taught them fundamental medical knowledge that was considered basic in his original world but revolutionary in theirs.
He taught them how to identify herbs correctly, how to set bones without damaging joints, how to treat fevers and infections, how to purify water, and how to counter the everyday illnesses that claimed countless lives each winter. He drilled them in technique, corrected their posture and methods, and pushed them to unlearn bad habits accumulated over generations.
In just three days, the Watchkeep gained its first batch of newly trained local physicians, men and women capable of tending to the city's growing population with newfound expertise. They were not sect-trained alchemists or nobles with specialized knowledge—but ordinary people who, for the first time, had a chance to save lives.
Doctors born not from privilege, but from opportunity.
Doctors shaped by Yun Che's quiet determination to rebuild a broken city. Basic medical knowledge but enough to revolutionize the province.
On the other side of the Watchkeep, Cang Yue spent most of her time assisting Jin Yuelian and caring for the four Nezukos. She worked closely with Mulan and Lin Yueru, organizing the noble alliances that kept pouring into the Jin Family's side.
Under her leadership, nobles who once looked down on commoners now found themselves participating in rebuilding efforts—offering manpower, supplies, and funds. Uniting families to support the cause of rebuilding the province.
Her grace, combined with her quiet determination, made her the perfect anchor for the Jin Family's rising influence.
Xue Ling, however, stayed mostly at Cang Yue's side—except for the soft, quiet moments she spent with Chu Yueli. The ice fairy, who was normally reserved and guarded, seemed to grow noticeably calmer whenever Xue Ling was near. When not training, the two of them could often be found helping the Yang Family's young mistress with her painting lessons. Yueli, despite her stoic demeanor, proved surprisingly patient, and the girl was eager to learn more.
Even Little Fairy found herself surprised at how quickly the frost between Yueli and Xue Ling melted. Former rivals who once eyed each other with caution now strolled side-by-side through the Watchkeep, whispering private jokes and sharing gentle smiles like sisters reunited after a long separation. Their quiet harmony brought a soft, comforting warmth to the once-bleak compound.
And under Little Fairy's guidance, both Qingyue and Yueli progressed at a speed that bordered on terrifying. She pushed them relentlessly—correcting their stances, refining their aura flow, sharpening their mental focus, and drilling Haki into them until their bodies instinctively awakened its nature. Yet among the two, Qingyue's growth was nothing short of astonishing.
In just three days, Qingyue had:
Mastered Intermediate Observation Haki,
Awakened Armament Haki,
And perfected her Starry Tear technique to a level resembling divine skill.
Her first demonstration of this newfound power stunned everyone present. With a single, precise Starry Tear slash—coated in shimmering Armament Haki—Qingyue cleaved a full-bodied Combat Adjudicator cleanly in half after extinguished four of its flame. The heavy armor cracked open as though split by a blade forged from the heavens.
Even Yun Che paused mid-sip of his tea, eyebrows lifting in quiet, impressed approval.
Three days.
Three days were all it took for Qingyue to reach a level most mortal Haki cultivators couldn't hope to achieve in decades. It was, without question, the power of the Heart of Snow Glazed Glass—a divine heart given by her mother that sharpened her mind, purified her energy, and let her perceive intent with impossible clarity. Without it, such progress would've been unthinkable.
Still, Yun Che found some amusement in the process.
To test her Observation Haki, he used a simple paper fan, striking unpredictably to hone her detection abilities.
On the first day, she got smacked… repeatedly.
By the second day, she began sensing the intent of his movements. And by the third day?
She dodged nine out of ten strikes with flawless precision.
Yun Che couldn't help smiling each time she ducked or swayed away from a hit; her eagerness to learn was far stronger than he initially expected.
She mastered Starry Tear in record time simply because he promised to teach her the next technique once she perfected it.
And she did.
Not only that, but she advanced her Observation and Armament Haki to the intermediate stage in those same three days. Even among gifted mortals or ascended practitioners, such progress typically required years. Little Fairy herself had needed three days just to reach the basic stage, and only after two full months of intense training at the Asgard did she finally perfect the Intermediate level.
Compared to that, Qingyue's growth was nothing short of monstrous.
Chu Yueli, on the other hand, managed to reach only the basic stage of both forms of Haki—but even that required Yun Che's careful guidance. He helped refine her aura, align her senses, and smooth out the rigidities in her mental discipline. Without his support, even a prodigy of the Frozen Cloud Asgard would have stumbled for weeks. Give another week or two, she could achieved Intermediate Stage with Little Fairy's help.
Qingyue, however…
She didn't stumble at all.
She soared.
Yun Che sighs as Asgardian Fairies might be prideful, but they are indeed natural geniuses.
================
Yun Che and Nemu had been one step ahead of the Wu Clan from the very beginning. Back on Wangya Island, they had secretly left behind listening bugs—an unassuming device that picked up every whispered conversation, every shifting plan, every desperate change in strategy. From the safety of the Watchkeep, they listened, analyzed, and quietly dismantled the Wu Clan's every move.
With the help of Eagle Vision, they rooted out every infiltrator slipping into the city. Spies hidden among the crowds were dragged out before they could even make contact. Anarchists planted to incite chaos never got the chance; Yun Che's shadows neutralized them long before trouble could take root.
To protect the new trade routes, patrols were reinforced, and caravans traveling at night were shadowed by trained Jin soldiers. Kon, ever the enthusiastic assassin, took it upon himself to eliminate troublesome cultivators discreetly, leaving no trail, no witnesses, and no evidence except fear.
Any Wu Clan allies hiding in Xuanwu City were swiftly silenced—arrested under fabricated charges or quietly taken down under the cover of darkness.
The city was no longer their playground.
The Wu Clan had planned to cut Jin Zhuo's supply lines. Instead, they found the caravans guarded so tightly that their small surgical strike teams never even got close. Every attempt to disrupt food, medicine, or materials ended in failure.
Cutting the family's patronage?
Impossible.
Their spies were uprooted before they even reached their meeting points.
Sending assassins and saboteurs?
Every one of them was intercepted, disarmed, or simply gone by dawn. They even resorted to creating cheap imitations of firearms, hoping to replicate the mysterious weapons they'd seen during the infiltration of Wangya Island—but the designs were unstable, inaccurate, and dangerous to the user.
Meanwhile, Tian Heng's contacts—once loyal through bribery—began abandoning him one by one. Stability was more valuable than temporary profit. The Jin Family offered both.
Worst of all for the Wu Clan, they failed to lure Yun Che into the open. They tried once—years ago—and succeeded only in killing the original Mu Che.
But this Yun Che was different.
He refused to fall for the same trick twice despite not being the same person.
With every day that passed, the Wu Clan found themselves suffocating—their plans exposed, their allies captured, their spies falling like leaves in winter.
All because Yun Che and Nemu had created a silent net around Xuanwu City…
…and the Wu Clan stepped right into it.
================
"Mother, where are we going?" Cang Yue asked as she followed Jin Yuelian through the sky.
"Somewhere I go whenever I need to calm my heart," Jin Yuelian replied gently. "It also happens to belong to someone very special to me."
Intrigued, Cang Yue followed as they descended toward a secluded part of the forest—not far from the Jin Watchkeep, yet somehow hidden from the world.
When they landed, Cang Yue's eyes widened in awe.
A serene lake stretched before them, its waters glimmering under the afternoon light. In the center lay a small island, wrapped in a thin veil of mist and crowned with delicate, overhanging trees. The air was cool, peaceful—almost sacred.
"This place…" Cang Yue whispered. "It's beautiful. I had no idea something like this existed here."
Jin Yuelian smiled softly.
"It is precious to me. Whenever the world becomes too loud, I come here to… air the place out."
"A-Air it…?" Cang Yue blinked, confused.
"Come," Jin Yuelian said simply, taking flight again.
They crossed the still waters and landed on the small island. Here, the serenity was even deeper. Cang Yue noticed an old wooden house tucked beneath the trees—simple, lonely, and untouched by time. Beside it lay a small farmland, long abandoned. Plants had overgrown the rows, and nothing had been cultivated for years.
Yet the grass around the house was neatly trimmed.
Cang Yue realized then that Jin Yuelian must visit often—quietly, tenderly maintaining the place herself.
"Mother…" she murmured. "Is this… someone's home?"
Jin Yuelian walked forward, touching the old wooden wall with a faint, nostalgic smile.
"It was," she whispered. "Long before the world changed… long before everything fell apart."
She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.
"And it will always be the place where my heart rests."
"What is this place?" Cang Yue asked.
Jin Yuelian opened the wooden door with a small creak. The inside was so simple. just a small table with two chairs. an old fire kitchen. a small room with a small bed and a wooden chest. the place didnt look abandoned as it was cleaned. only some dusty parts.
"Mother… this place…" Cang Yue murmured as her feet touched the soft grass of the small island.
Jin Yuelian's expression softened with deep nostalgia.
"Yue'er… this is your mother's home. Lan Ying's home, to be exact. She lived here for many years… long before your father brought her into the Imperial Palace."
Cang Yue's breath caught.
Her mother… lived here?
In this tiny, humble wooden house?
In this quiet world of lake mist and wildflowers?
Slowly, reverently, she stepped inside.
The small room creaked under her weight, still holding faint echoes of a life long gone. She moved carefully, fingertips brushing the wooden walls as though afraid her touch might disturb the memories still lingering in the air.
"Mother…" she whispered again, opening a worn wooden chest.
Inside were old clothes—simple dresses, hand-sewn tunics, and faded wraps. They smelled faintly of age and time, but when Cang Yue lifted them to her face, her tears flowed freely.
This was real.
This was her mother.
The life she lived before the palace. Before royalty. Before tragedy.
"Thank you for bringing me here," she said softly, her voice trembling.
As she looked around, she could almost see her mother's silhouette—tending the small garden outside, stirring a pot over the fire, sewing by the sunlight that streamed through the window. A peaceful life. A quiet happiness.
Jin Yuelian watched with a tender smile. "My pleasure, dear. You deserved to know where she came from… who she truly was before the world changed her fate."
Cang Yue knelt and silently offered a prayer to the heavens, hands clasped tightly. For a moment, she wondered if her mother's true resting place should have been here, where her heart once lived so freely. She ended up bringing all her mother's old clothes for safekeeping. The chest of worthless old clothes has now become her treasure.
"Thank you, Foster Mother," she said quietly to Jin Yuelian. "You truly cared for my late mother."
"She was more than a friend, Yue'er…" Jin Yuelian replied, touching the old wooden door with a wistful expression. "I always wished I could scatter her ashes here."
Cang Yue shook her head gently. "Mother wasn't cremated."
Jin Yuelian blinked. "She… wasn't?"
"No. Father insisted on honoring her final request." Cang Yue's voice softened with pride and grief. "She asked not to be cremated. She wished to be wrapped in white and buried in the earth. Father obeyed… even though the Cang elders were furious."
She continued quietly, voice trembling with memory.
"They said he broke the blessed ancestral line by marrying a commoner. And by burying her instead of preserving her ashes in the ancestral temples." Her eyes darkened. "So her grave was placed in a special secluded courtyard and guarded by the palace guards. A simple burial mound with only a small stone marker—because that was her wish. No grand tombs. She didn't want it."
Cang Yue exhaled, her heart aching yet peaceful.
"Since then… Father decreed that every royal after him—including himself—will also be buried in the earth, just like Mother."
Jin Yuelian's eyes softened, glistening faintly. "Your father… truly loved her."
"More than anyone," Cang Yue murmured, a wistful smile touching her lips. "More than my stepmothers. And now… I finally understand why. I still remember it clearly—he laid my mother to rest himself, still dressed in his imperial robes. He wouldn't allow anyone else to touch her body. Not the attendants… not even when the elders reprimanded him. He buried her with his own hands."
She looked around the quiet home again, breathing in the tranquility her mother once lived in.
"While the ancestors are all cramped together in the ancestral hall," she said softly, "Mother's grave is open to the sky. Father was right to bury her that way. I can speak to her freely… without the spirits of my ancestors listening in, judging her for being a commoner and for 'breaking the blessed line.' However, I secretly glad that mother was indeed cursed in this world by my so called family, but blessed by the heavens."
Jin Yuelian nodded slowly. "Yes… I heard about that. Lan Ying told me once about the Cang Family tradition—always birthing sons, generation after generation. And you, my dear, were the one who broke it."
Cang Yue exhaled, a trace of old pain passing through her eyes. "I know. I was called the cursed child of the Cang Family."
And so, standing in her mother's humble home, she told Jin Yuelian everything:
How she first met Yun Che. The truth behind her bloodline.
How their first female ancestor—Cang Xue, the Second Moon Empress of the Ancient Moon Empire—had been erased from history and labeled a disgrace. How Yun Che had changed her destiny, restored her pride, and guided her through battles that no prince of Blue Wind Empire had ever dared to fight.
She told her how she became one of the top young elites of the empire during the Blue Wind Ranking Tournament, surpassing every expectation, every insult, every limitation that her lineage had once been chained to.
No one from the Cang Family had ever achieved what she had.
None had risen so far.
None had reclaimed the dignity of their forgotten ancestor.
Jin Yuelian listened in silence, her eyes gentle with sorrow and pride.
"I am sorry, Yue'er," she whispered at last. "You carried so much, all alone."
Cang Yue shook her head, stepping closer to the woman who had treated her like a daughter from the moment she arrived at the Watchkeep.
"Don't worry, Foster Mother. I'm no longer afraid. I am determined to become the Empress—not just to honor my mother and my ancestor, but to change the old views that chained them."
She placed a hand over her heart.
"I will restore their honor. I will show the world that fate can be rewritten."
Jin Yuelian's eyes glistened as she pulled Cang Yue into a warm embrace.
"And I believe," she whispered, "that you are the only one who truly can."
She eyes Cang Yue in her arms. "Maybe it's about time she knows the truth about Ying'er."
=======================
As they glided back toward the Watchkeep, something in the distance made Cang Yue freeze mid-flight. Her Observation Haki flared instinctively, locking onto a sudden spike of killing intent.
Without a word, she drew Wadō Ichimonji, the blade cutting a clean arc through the air.
Cling!
A shower of poison needles deflected off the white steel, scattering harmlessly through the trees.
Jin Yuelian gasped, startled by the sudden attack, but Cang Yue immediately stepped in front of her, expanding her Haki outward. What she sensed made her expression harden. Dozens of hostile signatures pulsed across the forest—Sky Profound Realm, heavily masked, hiding their aura with frightening precision. Far too many for such a remote province.
Hooded figures began emerging from the woods, surrounding them in a tight circle.
A mocking voice cut through the air. "So this is where you've been hiding… Shu Pei Pei. Coming out here without protection—you must really want to die."
Cang Yue shot her mother a confused glance. "Mother… what does he mean? Who is Shu Pei Pei"
Jin Yuelian's eyes narrowed in fury. "Bastard… don't call me by that name!"
The hooded man chuckled cruelly. "Oh, I'll call you anything I like."
Jin Yuelian stiffened as recognition hit her. "This voice… Shu Jianting. So my own nephew comes to haunt me."
"Nephew?" he spat. "Don't flatter yourself. You are no member of the Shu Family, you filthy traitor. We're here to finish what should have been done long ago—erase Shu Tian's disgraceful bloodline."
"Don't you dare insult my father!" Jin Yuelian snapped, instinctively shielding Cang Yue behind her. Even though Cang Yue was stronger, this moment—this bloodline hatred—was rooted deep in her past.
Shu Jianting scoffed. "Insult? Your father was filth. His daughters ran for twenty-five years, but not even you can hide forever."
He raised his hand, signaling his men forward. "Tonight, Shu Tian's line ends."
Jin Yuelian roared in anger, but before she could move, another volley of poison knives flew toward them.
"Mother!" Cang Yue stepped forward, spinning in a blur of white steel.
Cling! Cling! Cling!
Her blade danced, deflecting every knife with flawless precision.
She lowered her stance, her eyes sharpening as her Haki surged like a storm.
They wanted to erase a bloodline? Then they had chosen the wrong daughter to attack.
"Mother…?" Shu Jianting's voice dripped with contempt. "So Shu Pei Pei has been spreading her filth in this world after all." His hand snapped downward. "Kill them!"
The assassins lunged in unison.
Cang Yue stepped forward, drawing all three swords in a single fluid motion. "Tatsumaki!"
A violent cyclone of wind erupted from her blades, blasting outward with razor-sharp intensity. The force was so sudden and fierce that her kasa hat tore free from her head, spinning into the air.
Her face—once hidden—was fully revealed.
She cursed under her breath. Why does this hat always fly off at the worst times?
The attackers froze for a fraction of a second.
"Three swords…?"
"T-That's—"
"Princess Cang Yue?!"
Shu Jianting's eyes went wide, shock rippling through his features. His aunt… familiar with the Imperial Princess? If this rumor spread, the Shu Family would be executed for treason.
For a heartbeat, he faltered.
Then his expression twisted with desperation.
"No! She's a witness—we have to kill her! She cannot leave alive!"
Cang Yue's eyes hardened.
"Thirty-Six Pound Phoenix!"
A brilliant, flaming-green kirin-shaped sword wave tore across the forest, obliterating the first assassin in its path. The man was cut cleanly in half, his body turning to ash before it hit the ground.
There was no hesitation in her movements.
No fear.
Only resolve.
Anyone who dared threaten her family—her foster mother— had forfeited their life.
Her Haki sharpened, locking onto each presence. She blurred into motion, her three swords carving arcs of silver light. In the span of a breath, two more assassins fell—slashed down before they could even register her movement.
Leaves scattered. Blood misted the air. Cang Yue's speed was monstrous, her precision flawless.
Jin Yuelian had no weapon to defend herself, and several Sky Profound Realm assassins were already leaping toward her. Without hesitation, Cang Yue hurled Shisui toward her foster mother.
"Mother—catch!"
Jin Yuelian snatched the sword mid-air, eyes widening at how impossibly light it felt in her hands. The moment her fingers wrapped around the hilt, her aura surged—long-suppressed energy bursting free like an awakening storm.
Her stance shifted. Her pressure spiked.
And then she moved.
With one elegant sweep, Jin Yuelian sliced through two attackers as if cutting silk. The remaining assassins who rushed her were sent flying back, blood spraying across the forest floor. Her hidden cultivation burst forth in full—
First Level Emperor Profound Realm.
Shu Jianting staggered back in shock.
"W–What?! She—she's a Throne?! Since when?!"
Panic rippled through his men.
"What are you standing around for?!" he shouted desperately. "Kill them!"
But it was too late.
Cang Yue and Jin Yuelian charged together, blades flashing in deadly arcs. Their movements synchronized seamlessly—two Tempest Queens cutting through enemies like a hurricane of steel and killing intent. The dozen assassins who attempted to surround them were cut down almost instantly.
Shu Jianting realized too late the nightmare he had walked into.He wasn't facing one enemy…
He was facing two Emperor Profound Realm cultivators.
Suddenly—
Shoo! Shoo!
A Sky Profound assassin screamed as a bolt impaled his back, pinning him to a tree.
Another turned, confused.
"W-What—?!"
Beep… beep… beep…
BOOM!
One attacker's head exploded in a burst of crimson mist.
Then another.
And another.
Panic erupted as assassins dropped like flies—skulls bursting under invisible impacts.
Cang Yue glanced upward just long enough to notice the faint outline of five hovering shapes following her.
Crossbow drones. Nemu must have deployed them the moment she sensed danger.
The drones shimmered, nearly invisible, recalibrating their aim with quiet mechanical chirps before firing again. Each shot was lethal. Each target fell without ever seeing what killed them.
Shu Jianting stumbled back, horrified.
"What the hell is happening?! What are those things?!"
He barely had time to breathe before Cang Yue appeared in front of him, her two swords gleaming with Haki and killing intent. Behind her, the forest floor was littered with the bodies of his men—cut apart, blasted open, or left twitching from fatal wounds.
Against the combined assault of Jin Yuelian, Cang Yue, and Nemu's hidden drones…
His forces never stood a chance.
A mere Fifth Level Sky Profound Realm like him had no hope of escaping.
"The Shu Family always kicks us when we're down!" Jin Yuelian shouted, her voice trembling with rage and old pain. "They were a disgrace from the moment they murdered my father!"
Memories she had buried deep resurfaced all at once—the night the Shu Family attacked, slaughtering the weak, hunting her like prey. She remembered fighting and got hurt, barely escaping with her life. She remembered the young Li Bing wounded, the innocents of the Jin Family hurt because of her curse. Mu Che had fought them back, but sparing their lives had been a mistake—a mistake that haunted them now.
"When this is over," she roared, tightening her grip on Shisui, "we will root out the Shu Family once and for all!"
But the moment she stepped forward to strike, a whistle cut through the wind.
Thwip!
An arrow slammed into her shoulder.
"Mother!" Cang Yue caught her as she staggered.
"P–Poisoned…" Jin Yuelian gasped, her face turning pale as violet veins crawled along her arm.
Shu Jianting, having regained his senses in the chaos, took the opening and fled into the forest. He was injured, shaken, but alive—and desperate to warn the Shu Family. If Shu Pei Pei was still alive and powerful enough to stand as a throne, then their clan was in danger. He needed reinforcements—needed a way to erase every trace of her bloodline.
"That bastard!" Cang Yue cursed without restraint. "Mother, hold still."
She guided Jin Yuelian gently to the forest floor. Yuelian's breathing was shallow, the poison already spreading.
"This arrow… the toxin is lethal," she whispered through clenched teeth.
Cang Yue snapped the shaft, pulled the arrow free in one clean motion, then immediately took out a small vial—the Divine Water Yun Che had entrusted to her.
"Drink this," she murmured, pouring several drops onto the wound and letting the rest trickle into Yuelian's mouth.
The effect was instantaneous. The wound closed before their eyes, the violet poison dissolving into harmless residue. Jin Yuelian exhaled deeply, relief washing over her face.
"Oh my…" she breathed. "Such medicine… it's miraculous."
"Thank goodness." Cang Yue sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she sheathed her swords. She looked up—and smiled brightly. "Thank you, Nemu!"
Around them, five drones shimmered into view, uncloaking one by one. Their metallic surfaces hummed softly as they hovered in formation. The forest floor around them was littered with bodies—dozens of attackers who had fallen to explosive bolts the drones fired with silent precision.
A small voice transmitted through the drones, cheerful and crisp. "Yue-neesama, the drones will escort you back. Please hurry. Yuu-sama is worried. He was preparing sniper support, but the drones handled the threat."
"Please thank him for me," Cang Yue replied warmly.
"The drones will vaporize the bodies," Nemu's mechanical voice informed them as the five units repositioned, preparing to eliminate all traces of the assassins.
Jin Yuelian stiffened slightly. "Was that really necessary, Yue'er?"
"Yes," Cang Yue replied firmly. "We can't risk their corpses being used by the Hollows."
"Hollows?" Yuelian frowned.
"White-masked beasts," Cang Yue explained as they ascended into the sky. "They can cultivate by consuming human remains—especially cultivators. We can't leave any behind for them to feed on."
Jin Yuelian shuddered at the thought but said nothing more.
Silence lingered between them as they flew, the drones escorting them in a protective formation.Then—quietly, almost too softly—Yuelian spoke.
"I'm sure you have questions… about why they called me Shu Pei Pei."
Cang Yue glanced sideways at her. "I did. But I waited for you to be ready."
Yuelian inhaled deeply, wind sweeping through her hair. "I suppose… I owe you the truth. You are strong enough now. You deserve to know everything—about me… and about her."
They touched down at the Watchkeep just as the sun dipped low, casting long gold bands across the stone battlements. Servants hurried forward the moment they arrived—smiling, bowing, completely unaware of the deadly encounter that had unfolded just outside the city's borders.
When Cang Yue recounted what had happened, both her husband and Mulan went rigid with fury. Mulan's hand even drifted toward her sword. But Yun Che stepped between them, his presence steady and grounding, cooling their anger with a single look.
"There are more important things to focus on, father in law." he reminded them quietly. "Mother in law and Little Yue are safe. That is what matters."
Only after repeated reassurances did their tension ease. They agreed to discuss the situation later and excused themselves to rest.
After a much-needed wash and a change of clothes, Cang Yue stepped out into the cool evening breeze. She spotted Jin Yuelian waiting by the balcony rail—a peaceful vantage point overlooking the lively reconstruction below. Workers moved like tireless ants, lanterns already glowing to push back the coming night.
Jin Yuelian turned when she heard Cang Yue approach, her expression gentle, touched with something unspoken.
The chaos outside continued, but here on the balcony, a strange quiet waited—like the world holding its breath.
Lanterns flickered across the hills. The distant sound of workers and laughter filled the air.
"Come," Yuelian said gently. "Sit with me. What I'm about to say… you may not believe at first."
Cang Yue sat beside her, heart steady, posture calm—but her eyes alert.
Yuelian clasped her hands together, gaze drifting out over the growing community in the Watchkeep.
"Your mother," she began softly, "wasn't just my friend."
Cang Yue blinked. "…What do you mean?"
Yuelian closed her eyes, pain flickering across her expression like an old wound reopening.
"She was… my sister. So, when you lost her as a mother, I lost a sister."
The words hit Cang Yue like a silent thunderclap.
"My blood sister," Yuelian repeated, voice trembling. "Her real name wasn't Lan Ying. It was Shu Ying."
Cang Yue's breath caught. "…Then you—?"
Jin Yuelian turned to her fully, tears glistening in her eyes as she whispered:
"I am not Jin Yuelian. My true name is… Shu Pei Pei. I am your aunt, Yue'er."
Cang Yue's breath hitched. "…Eh? How…?"
Yuelian let out a slow, weary sigh—one that carried decades of buried truth and pain.
"Your mother and I," she began gently, "were born into the Shu Family of Yue Province, the most powerful clan in the entire state. A family of influence, prosperity, and ambition… but also corruption."
Her gaze drifted toward the distant horizon, memories surfacing like long-buried ghosts.
"Your mother and I were among the strongest of our generation," Yuelian said quietly. "But power breeds jealousy… and jealousy breeds betrayal. One night, everything changed."
Her voice grew tight.
"A coup erupted from within. High-ranking members of the Shu Family—elders, guardians, branch lords—were slaughtered by their own relatives. Your maternal grandfather, Shu Tian, was one of the first to fall."
Cang Yue stiffened, her hands slowly curling into fists.
"They wanted the family's greatest treasure," Yuelian continued, bitterness creeping into her tone. "His cultivation art. A divine legacy that was passed only to direct heirs. Only one person had successfully cultivated it… your mother."
Cang Yue inhaled sharply.
Of course.
Her father had spoken of it rarely, but she remembered— a forbidden Spirit Art of her mother, capable of altering the soul itself. An art so divine—and so terrifying—that it could separate the good and evil within a being and harness their power.
Her mother had used that very technique…
To save her.
To save her heart.
The day Lan Ying placed her hand on her chest, whispering apologetically that the child was too fragile to bear the backlash of her awakening bloodline…
That was the day Cang Yue was split into two halves—
Lan Xueruo And Shin Yue.
Two personality within one body.
Light and shadow.
Ordered and wild.
Merciful and ruthless.
Her mother had paid a price to protect her.
Now, sitting here with Jin Yuelian—Shu Pei Pei—everything connected.
The reason the Shu Family had hunted them.
The reason Cang Yue's mind had always been divided between gentleness and ferocity.
"That night," Yuelian continued, voice trembling, "your mother and I barely escaped with our lives. We fled all the way to the sea and found refuge on that island you visited. That small cottage… that quiet life… That's where we hid."
She smiled faintly, bittersweet.
"We changed our names. Your mother chose 'Lan.' She became Lan Ying, and I became Lan Yuelian. We agreed to forsake the Spirit Art. I was able to. Your mother cultivated it. We lived quietly, peacefully… until Jin Zhuo appeared."
Her expression turned nostalgic—and slightly amused.
"I still remember punching your father square in the jaw for trying to take your mother away. But he loved her deeply, Yue'er. So as I stayed and married into the Jin Family… your mother followed your father back to the Cang Palace."
Cang Yue swallowed hard. "No wonder father was not against me going to the Jin Family. He knew Mulan was your daughter. So Mother's surname was… Shu?"
"Originally, yes. But both of us left that name behind. Your father never told you?"
Cang Yue shook her head. "No… he never mentioned it."
"As for me," Yuelian continued softly, "only Mulan, Mucong, and Jin Zhuo know the truth. Your mother… she never lived to reclaim justice. It is a shame. She was far too kind for this cruel world."
Cang Yue took a breath, her eyes sharpening. "Mother… Once we settle matters with the Wu Clan, let us confront the Shu Family as well. Even if they are my maternal bloodline… I will not allow anyone who hunted my mother to live peacefully."
Yuelian looked at her, heart swelling with pride and sorrow.
"I'm sure Mulan will be thrilled to help," she said with a wry smile. "And as for the Shu Family… I wonder how they will react once they learn that Shu Ying's daughter is now the Princess of the Blue Wind Empire."
A cold glint flashed in Cang Yue's eyes. "They wanted to erase grandfather Shu Tian's bloodline… but instead, they created a princess who will destroy them."
================
"Damn the Jin Family!"
The Wu Clan Elder slammed his palm onto the stone table, cracking it down the middle. His voice roared through the war hall like thunder.
"How did they know all of our plans?! Every move—every target—they countered each one as if reading from our own scrolls!"
The room buzzed with panic and fury.
"The water supply is now heavily guarded—and somehow purified," a captain reported grimly. "The caravans are escorted by elite escort teams. Our spies were caught before they even moved."
"And the anarchists we planted in the Watchkeep?" another asked.
"Neutralized before they could even light a torch. Inside contacts were seized. Every infiltration point… gone."
A heavy silence fell.
"They're dismantling us piece by piece," someone muttered.
"It's as if they knew our operations from the start," the elder growled. His gaze swept over the gathered officers, sharp and murderous. "Search the ranks. Thoroughly. If there's a spy, drag them out—alive or dead."
"Elder…" a guard spoke hesitantly, "the invasion begins in a few days. Yet the Jin Family keeps gaining numbers. At this rate—"
"At this rate, the entire province will side with them," the elder spat. "Even the Zhang and Xu Families are powerless now. Their influence shattered the moment the princess arrived."
"The Jin Family even gaining influence! Tian Heng and Liu Wuyan lost control of the city. People are rallying to Jin Zhuo. All because of the damned princess!"
The word princess left a bitter taste in everyone's mouth.
"We should mount a direct attack!" one of the commanders growled.
"Fool," another snapped. "A direct strike on the princess will only annihilate us. You saw what she did to the Nine Families' assassins."
"Princess Cang Yue has become a rallying banner," someone else muttered. "Ever since she arrived, the Jin Family's forces doubled. Tripled. And the people are flocking to them like moths to flame."
"Give it a few more days," another elder said, voice dark, "and they'll consolidate the entire province. Their control will be absolute."
"And with the White Mask pills lost in the Wangya Island fire…" someone murmured. "Our hidden forces will crumble without supply lines."
The air grew heavier.
The Wu Clan needed to act—fast.
Because if the Jin Family continued on like this, backed by the princess and whatever unseen experts were helping them…
…war would be lost before it even began.
"The Zhu Family still has their Great Elder—Ninth Level Emperor Profound Realm. He alone should be enough to crush them."
One commander leaned forward, voice low. "If we eliminate Xue Ling, the whole structure collapses. She's the backbone of their resistance."
"We need to thin their numbers now," another snapped. "If the Jin Family continues growing at this rate, they'll become a threat the entire province can't contain!"
"What about the other experts? Even Princess Cang Yue can stand on her own against Wu Lang. The princess whose cultivation on in the True Profound Realm a few months ago now can go toe to toe with a throne!"
"We couldn't identify them. Their auras are layered—camouflaged perfectly. They blend into crowds like ghosts."
"Let the Zhu Family handle those unknown experts," a senior elder growled. "With their Emperor Profound elder leading, they'll manage."
A hush fell as the discussion shifted.
"And preparations against the Lunar Blossom Sect…?"
A strategist stepped forward.
"The Qiang State, under the Dragon Empire, has agreed to move. Their forces will strike the northern mountain."
He paused, eyes narrowing.
"And rumor has it that the wench Xue Yin is on the brink of death. Once she falls, the entire northern mountain will be defenseless."
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"With the mountain weakened, the Qiang State can march freely and reinforce our invasion."
"Good," one elder said darkly. "After the assassination of their envoys—framed as a Jin Family attack—King Alugang has already blamed Jin Zhuo. But their retaliation is delayed due to interference from the Lunar Blossom Sect."
The strategist nodded.
"As we speak, King Alugang has dispatched five thousand cavalry to assault the Lunar Blossom Sect directly."
A cold silence settled.
"We must ensure that Xue Yin dies," an elder declared. "If she survives, the Qiang State's campaign will fail. She must not live to reinforce the Jin Family. Without her, the Northern Mountain will be defenseless."
Another stood sharply.
"Send in Wu Chang. Assemble the elite shadow corps to attack while Alugang distract Xue Yin. The sect must fall before dawn. Xue Yin dies tonight."
"And as for the city," someone added, leaning closer, "we launch a dual offensive."
"The Zhu Family will attack the Jin Family's headquarters."
"We will support them from the shadows."
"A coordinated strike will cripple the Jin Family for days—long enough for the Qiang State invasion to take root."
The elder slammed his hand on the table.
"Prepare everything. Tonight, we strike both the Jin Family and the Lunar Blossom Sect."
He glared toward the distant city, hatred flashing in his eyes.
"By sunrise, both Xue Ling and that Xue Yin dies…And the Jin Family will burn."
================
Far beyond the bustle of Xuanwu City, a solitary mountain pierced the northern sky — a towering, snow-crowned giant untouched by mortal feet. Along its steep, frost-laden cliffs lay a hidden sect, its temples and courtyards carved into the very bones of the mountain — a sanctuary where masters of the higher planes honed their craft in silence.
Yet even among them, there was a path none dared tread. A narrow trail, half-buried beneath snow and wind, led ever upward — toward the mountain's peak.
No one had ever reached its summit. No one, save one.
There, upon the lonely crown of the mountain, stood no grand palace or immortal hall.
Only a humble wooden house, its frame weathered by time, beside a small field where frost-kissed herbs swayed in the endless chill. The smoke of a quiet hearth rose gently into the pale northern sky — a fragile thread of warmth in a world of ice.
From that secluded peak, the entire realm lay stretched beneath her gaze.
Only one had ever been permitted to walk that path — the Sect Master of the Lunar Blossom Sect, who once climbed those frozen steps to stand before the mountain's solitary sovereign:
The Grand Sect Mistress.
Xue Yin.
She was a legend whispered in reverent tones — the Peerless Expert of the Northern Mountain.
A beauty beyond mortal measure, her elegance rivaled even the fairies of the Frozen Cloud Asgard. Her eyes, it was said, could topple cities with a glance… and with a second, bring nations to their knees.
There she stood now — a lone figure overlooking the world from her snowy throne. Her form was graceful, the faint curve of her silhouette framed by an hourglass figure that defied the cold winds. Her long, dark hair cascaded like liquid silk down her back, partly concealed beneath a shoulder-length veiled kasa hat, its silver threads catching the dim light of dawn.
The mountain winds howled around her, but she stood unmoved — serene, unyielding, eternal.
The woman of the northern mountain — silent witness to the rise and fall of empires — watched the world below, her gaze distant, knowing… and impossibly calm.
"Sister Xue Yin, it has been a while," a calm voice echoed up the frosted path. "You look as though you're growing younger by the year."
The woman standing at the cliff's edge did not turn immediately. Only when the Lunar Blossom Sect Master, Zhong Chuke, reached her side did she tilt her veiled kasa hat slightly.
"Brother Zhong," she replied softly. "You and your flattery… You've aged."
Zhong Chuke let out a quiet laugh. "Managing a sect is exhausting enough. And after my master passed, well… age found me quickly. Unlike you, Grand Sect Mistress."
Xue Yin's gaze remained fixed on the city far below, her expression hidden behind the veil."I hardly do anything for the sect. Why insist on calling me that? I am unworthy of the title."
"Don't say such things," Zhong Chuke replied firmly. "You stand at Grand Perfection Emperor Profound Realm. Half a step from becoming a Tyrant. You are the hidden pillar that keeps the Lunar Blossom Sect standing."
"I am not a pillar," she murmured. "I'm merely a woman taking shelter from a world I no longer belong to. My time is nearly up."
Zhong Chuke's smile faded. "Still thinking about your missing sister…?"
Xue Yin's fingers tightened around her kasa hat. "Every day," she whispered. "Not a moment passes where I do not wonder if she or our parents still walk this world… or if their graves wait somewhere I will never find."
"Is it getting worse?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she admitted. "This illness… perhaps it has no cure."
Zhong Chuke stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Then perhaps it is time you came down from this mountain. To search for her one last time. She may yet be alive."
"What is the use?" Xue Yin said bitterly. "I've spent more than twenty years searching. Perhaps fate has decreed that I am an unfilial sister… an unworthy daughter. Doomed to die without ever seeking forgiveness.
"She laughed softly — a sorrowful, hollow sound. "Even the heavens seem eager to spite me."
Zhong Chuke frowned deeply. "Why do you cling to such thoughts, Sister Xue Yin?"
Xue Yin finally turned her face slightly toward him, the breeze lifting the veil just enough for him to glimpse a single, sorrow-filled eye.
"Because the world took everything from me," she whispered. "And I fear… I have nothing left to give back."
The wind tugged gently at her veil, carrying her words off the cliffside. But before Zhong Chuke could reply, she straightened slightly and shifted the subject with a fragile smile.
"What brings you here, Brother Zhong? Surely you did not climb all this way just to pity me."
Zhong Chuke blinked, then cleared his throat. "Ah—this, actually…"
He reached into his spatial ring and pulled out a silvery flower sculpted of shimmering frost, its petals glowing faintly like moonlit ice.
Xue Yin's breath halted.
"The… Flower of Eternal Winter," she said softly. "How did you acquire this? It's guarded by packs of Earth Profound wolves at their peak."
"My disciples obtained it," he said.
She shot him a flat look. "You cannot expect me to believe those two—both barely early Sky Profound Realm—could defeat an entire pack."
Zhong Chuke raised both hands placatingly. "They didn't. They were only sent to scout."
"Then how—?"
"They reported that experts intervened. Slaughtered over five hundred wolves on that mountain."
Xue Yin's eyes widened behind her veil. "Five hundred? Such an expert exists… so close to our borders?"
"Two of them," Zhong Chuke corrected. "One was none other than the famed Fairy of Frozen Glass, Chu Yueli."
"Frozen Cloud Asgard?" Xue Yin murmured, brows tightening beneath her veil. "What business would they have in such a remote province…?"
Her voice grew faint—almost distant—but when Zhong Chuke spoke again, the world seemed to stop around her.
"And the other… was a young woman traveling with her. She gave her name as… Xue Ling."
The mountain wind went silent.
Then—
"…Ling?"
Xue Yin's head snapped around, her hand darting out to seize Zhong Chuke's robes with startling strength.
"Where did you hear that name?!" Her voice cracked—raw with a desperate, aching hope she had buried for decades.
Zhong Chuke flinched at her grip.
"S–Sister Xue Yin, please calm yourself. I'm only repeating what the disciples saw. Chu Yueli and Xue Ling helped them survive the wolves—nothing more."
"Where—where did they meet her?! Tell me!"
Xue Yin's voice trembled so hard it barely sounded like her own.
But before he could answer—
Her body suddenly buckled.
She collapsed to her knees, a violent spasm ripping through her chest.
A wet, guttural cough tore its way out—
——and crimson blood splashed across the snow.
"Senior Sister!"
Zhong Chuke fell beside her, panic breaking through his calm demeanor. "Your illness— it's worsening! You should not have exerted yourself—!"
Xue Yin hunched forward, gripping the snow with trembling fingers as her breath rattled in her throat. The chill wind tugged her veil back, revealing a pale face drained of life.
Yet her eyes—filled with fierce, desperate longing—refused to close.
Her voice came in a broken whisper: "Where… is she…? Please… tell me where my sister is…"
Tears mixed with blood on the snow.
"No… no…" she gasped, fighting for air. "I have to go. I have to find her… Bring your disciples to me—now."
Zhong Chuke grabbed her shoulders, trying to steady her. "Senior Sister, why are you so fixated on meeting these experts? They should be long gone by now! It won't change—"
"You don't understand!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "She's—!"
But her strength gave out, her body swaying dangerously.
Zhong Chuke caught her just in time.
"Please…" he pleaded softly, "just calm down… you'll die at this rate…"
Her fingers tightened around his sleeve, a tremor of raw emotion shaking her entire frame.
"I can't…" she whispered. "Not before I see her… not before I know…"
Her voice faded into the cold wind.
The Grand Sect Mistress, Xue Yin—the Peerless Beauty of the Northern Mountain—was trembling like a fragile leaf in winter.
And for the first time in decades…
Her hope — long frozen beneath grief, regret, and snow — began to crack through the ice.
"Xue Ling…" she whispered, voice trembling with fragile emotion. "That Xue Ling… she carries the same name as my little sister."
Zhong Chuke swallowed softly. "Senior Sister… there could be thousands of women named Xue Ling."
"I know," she said, her voice breaking. "That is why I need to see her. Even if it is only to confirm from afar… even if it is only a rumor."
Her fingers curled into the snow, knuckles white from the cold and from fear. "Maybe… just a glimpse. Just enough to know."
She lifted her eyes, gaze distant and full of aching sorrow.
"I am nearing my end… and I wish to spare her from knowing I am dying." A soft, hollow laugh escaped her. "It is better this way. I was an unfilial sister… who left her behind. Who left our parents behind. I have no right to burden her with my existence again."
Zhong Chuke's expression tightened. "Is there truly no way to save you?"
Xue Yin closed her eyes, feeling the bitter wind tug at her hair. "No. It is a terminal illness. My cultivation slows it, but only barely. I can last a few days at most."
She looked up at him, eyes shimmering behind her veil. "Please… bring them to me. Just once. Even from a distance… I need to know if that woman is truly my Ling'er…"
Zhong Chuke hesitated. "The Jin Family… I heard they recently brought in skilled medical experts to treat the city. Extraordinary healers, led by a man named Mu Che. Perhaps he could help—"
"No." Her voice was firm, steady, final.
"It is unnecessary. I do not seek to prolong my life. I only wish to see my Ling'er… grown and alive. That is enough."
Slowly, she turned her gaze toward Xuanwu City far below — a flicker of light in the vast distance.
"Ling'er…"
Her voice cracked.
"If that is truly you… then just let me see you from afar. Just once."
She drew a shaky breath, tears slipping silently down her cheeks beneath the veil.
"Then I can finally let go. I can finally die… without regrets."
She knells on the snowy mountain praying to the heavens to reunite them once more. To ask and beg for forgiveness before she could leave this world in peace.