Chapter 4: The Emperor's Shadow and the Imperial Vibe Check
The palace was definitely louder and buzzier than usual the morning after Lin Xue's accidental "training incident."
The events of the previous day had generated enough gossip to fuel a dozen court dramas.
Rumors were spreading faster than a zero-day exploit.
Some eager servants swore the powerful Crown Prince had taken a strange, electric commoner as his secret, lightning-wielding disciple.
Others were convinced the "lightning girl" had deliberately destroyed the entire western courtyard and was now being held captive in a high-security ice prison deep beneath the palace.
Lin Xue sighed dramatically as she sat on a quiet veranda, sipping a cup of surprisingly delicious, floral-scented tea, all while under the watchful eyes of two heavily armed guards.
"Seriously. You accidentally blow up one royal training ground, and suddenly everyone thinks you're a national security threat."
Across the low table, Prince Han Jinhai didn't even look up from the complex scrolls he was meticulously reviewing.
"You also froze exactly half of the highly prized ornamental koi pond, Lady Lin."
"Correction," she corrected him cheerfully. "We froze it.
Teamwork, remember? That was a joint effort in accidental atmospheric modification."
His quill paused mid-stroke, though his eyes remained fixed on the parchment.
"Remind me, precisely, why I agreed to such a high-risk partnership."
"Because deep down, beneath all the frost, you actually enjoy my company,"
she said with a brilliant, knowing grin.
He finally looked up and gave her the signature blank, royal stare—a look perfected over decades of dealing with tedious ministers and endless diplomacy. "You are dangerously confusing the concepts of professional tolerance with personal enjoyment."
"Uh-huh," Lin Xue hummed, leaning forward conspiratorially and resting her chin on her palm.
"Your perfect, cold face says 'No, definitely not,' but your qi signature says a very warm 'Maybe, I'm intrigued.'"
That earned her a full ten seconds of unblinking, heavy silence.
But, notably, not a denial.
By midday, the mood shifted from bantering to official.
A highly important eunuch, dressed in gold-trimmed silk robes, appeared at the gate of the courtyard.
His voice was high-pitched and formal.
"By imperial decree, His Majesty the Emperor summons the Crown Prince and Lady Lin Xue immediately to the Hall of Ancestral Mirrors."
Jinhai's brow furrowed slightly—a very rare display of concern.
"The Hall of Mirrors? That chamber is typically sealed for matters of imperial judgment and sacred rite."
"Judgment?" Lin Xue blinked quickly.
"Like… a high-stakes trial judgment, or a 'did I choose the right tea set' ceremony judgment?"
"It depends entirely on what you've done lately, Lady Lin," he said dryly, rolling up his scroll with efficient grace.
"Define 'lately,'" she muttered, knowing that definition could encompass the entire two days she'd been in this world.
He stood up, tall and commanding.
"Be on your absolute best behavior in front of my father.
This is serious."
"I always behave," she insisted, rising smoothly to follow him.
"It's just that sometimes my behavior spontaneously causes natural disasters."
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The Hall of Ancestral Mirrors was even more intimidating than its name suggested.
It was a vast, imposing chamber with towering walls completely lined with polished obsidian slabs .
Every single reflection carried a tangible whisper of spiritual energy, making it feel like the eyes of every ruler who had ever lived were watching her every move.
The Emperor sat on the central dais, elevated above the rest of the court.
His robes were a rich, dark gold, and his expression was utterly unreadable—a perfect, powerful blank slate.
"Your Majesty," Jinhai said, bowing low and perfectly.
Lin Xue copied him awkwardly, forcing her bow into something that looked more like a halfway, stiff stretch.
"Your, uh… Most Radiant Supremeness. Pleasure to meet you."
She felt Jinhai's elbow twitch violently beside her.
The Emperor's lips curved faintly—a sliver of an unexpected smile.
"Rise."
His powerful gaze fell directly upon Lin Xue. "So this is the lightning spirit who defied death itself and stole my son's koi pond."
Lin Xue managed a weak, professional smile.
"Technically, Your Majesty, I defied physics and broke the known laws of nature."
The surrounding ministers, all dark shadows in the hall, exchanged shocked glances.
The Emperor, however, chuckled softly.
"You have courage, child—and foolishness in equal measure, it seems."
"Thank you?" she replied, honestly uncertain if that was praise, an insult, or a royal verdict.
A nervous servant brought forth a glowing, aged scroll sealed with thick blue wax.
The Emperor gestured with one hand, and Jinhai stepped forward to receive it, holding the relic with great care.
"This was recovered from the ruins of the training pavilion you purified," the Emperor said, his voice deep and measured.
"It speaks of the 'Azure Concord'—an ancient prophecy tied to divine lightning and a mortal bond that will protect the realm."
Jinhai's eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the old document.
"You believe Lady Lin Xue's pendant is part of this prophecy?"
"Perhaps.
The heavens rarely choose without purpose. And yet…"
The Emperor's powerful gaze sharpened, encompassing the entire silent chamber. "There are those in this very court, Crown Prince, who question whether this 'foreign soul' can truly be trusted with the fate of the Dynasty."
Lin Xue stiffened.
She stepped forward slightly, meeting the Emperor's gaze without flinching.
"If it helps, Your Majesty, I also question that sometimes."
The hall fell into stunned, utter silence.
Jinhai sighed audibly, the sound of a man who dealt with daily catastrophe.
"Your Majesty, she truly means no disrespect.
Her background is… untraditional."
"I see that, Crown Prince," the Emperor said, amusement flickering briefly in his dark eyes.
"Still, her presence here alters the very balance of fate.
We cannot, and will not, ignore it."
He turned toward Lin Xue again, his expression now serious.
"Tell me, girl from beyond—if you were given the power to decide between saving one man you knew and loved, or saving the entire Kingdom, which would you choose, and why?"
Lin Xue hesitated.
Her modern, instinctual mind screamed for a witty, coded joke, but something in the Emperor's deep, penetrating tone stopped her cold.
She knew this was her moment.
"…I'd save the one who is capable of saving the kingdom," she said finally, quietly.
"Because a kingdom is just people.
And the one person who can protect them is worth more than any emotional tie."
The Emperor studied her in silence for several long, tense seconds—then smiled faintly.
"An unexpected, and brutally pragmatic, answer."
Jinhai glanced sideways at her, a brief, undeniable flash of respect visible in his eyes.
"Very well," the Emperor said at last, a wave of his hand dismissing the tension.
"You may continue your studies under the Crown Prince's supervision, as his official trainee, effective immediately.
But know this, girl—the heavens are watching your every move.
And they are rarely, if ever, kind."
The polished mirrors around them shimmered violently—faint, ghostly faces of past rulers flickering in the dark glass.
Lin Xue bowed again, this time with genuine, deep respect for the ruler and the weight of his judgment.
"Understood, Your Majesty.
I will strive for minimal property damage."
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Outside, the sunlight hit her face like a physical relief.
She let out a long, shaky exhale.
"Okay. Did I just successfully pass the imperial vibe check?"
"Barely," Jinhai replied, his voice still low and formal after leaving the Hall.
"Ha! I'll take that victory," she grinned, throwing up a small fist pump.
He glanced sideways at her as they walked along the stone path.
"Your answer in there—was that instinct or careful calculation?"
She shrugged casually.
"Both, Your Highness.
I'm excellent at multitasking life-or-death decisions."
"You manage to surprise even my father," he said quietly, a genuine statement of fact.
"Do you like surprises, Prince Jinhai?"
"Not when they blow up courtyards or freeze priceless fish."
She leaned closer, her grin widening mischievously.
"Then, my very cold prince, you are in for a long, fun life."
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That night, the palace guards whispered again—but this time, they weren't talking about the lightning girl's destructive power. They whispered about the Emperor's smile.
No one, not even the oldest ministers, had seen the formidable ruler of the empire smile with genuine amusement in years.
And for the first time, the highly charged phrase, "the lightning consort," began to circulate in hushed tones behind the heavy palace doors.
Jinhai, reviewing official reports late into the night in his chamber, tried very hard not to think about that particular phrase.
Lin Xue, lying awake beneath the silken canopy of her new bed, tried even harder not to notice that her protective jade pendant now pulsed in perfect, familiar sync with another strong, distant heartbeat somewhere else in the vast, silent palace.