The sky darkened abruptly, and rain began to fall, cold and relentless. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and sorrow, but it did not bother them anymore. All that remained was emptiness—a vacuum of grief and regret. No one could have imagined that the fierce General Jiang Youen would wear such a face, hollow and haunted, his eyes lifeless yet burning with hidden anguish.
"Father…" Xi Yue's voice trembled, a weak smile barely touching her lips, but she saw nothing in his eyes.
"I… I am sorry. It's my fault," Jiang Youen whispered, his voice quivering as though he was holding back an ocean of tears.
A tall figure in a black mask approached quietly, his presence commanding yet shadowed. He bent slightly and whispered into Jiang Youen's ear.
"Xi Youran is alive."
The words struck like lightning. The black-masked man excused himself shortly after, leaving Jiang Youen staring at the wet ground, his mind reeling.
"…Dear… I finally found her, but you're not here anymore. How am I supposed to tell her about you?" Jiang Youen murmured, his lips trembling as he walked toward the backyard where his wife once brewed tea. The lingering fragrance of her presence hung faintly in the air, almost mocking the void her absence created.
"…This—" The fierce general fell to his knees, and the floodgates of grief broke. Raw, uncontrollable power surged out of him, shaking the nearby trees and threatening to consume him entirely.
"F-FATHER! Calm down—!" Jiang Feng staggered forward, his body wracked as he tried to absorb the overwhelming Qi released by his father. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he clung on, determined to stabilize him.
"S-Son… I am sorry," Jiang Youen whispered through his tears. Jiang Feng, smiling through his own pain, hugged his father tightly.
"I'm sorry too. I've been so focused on my studies that I forgot my family. Little sister… she was reaching out when Mother fell ill, but that wicked stepdaughter of the stepmother got ahead of her," Jiang Feng's voice broke. Tears streamed down his face as he revealed the truth.
"…She did what?!" Jiang Youen's shock was palpable, his grief now laced with fury.
Xi Youran's High-Rank Alchemy Breakthrough
Far from the Jiang residence, Xi Youran crouched among the jagged cliffs, the rain soaking her ragged clothes, her Qi still unstable but fiercely burning with determination. Around her, remnants of Soul Clan scouts lay unconscious, scattered by her latest alchemical assaults.
"This… this is my limit?" she whispered to herself, her arms trembling from the force of her own Qi-infused explosive concoctions.
The golden-edged scroll she had discovered earlier pulsed with warmth as she opened it, revealing complex formulas for high-rank alchemy techniques she had never seen before. Combining these new formulas with Hui's lingering divine essence, Xi Youran began refining her Qi-alchemy synchronization—a technique that allowed her to convert raw, unstable Qi into controlled, high-energy attacks.
A scout appeared from the shadows—a high-ranking Soul Clan assassin, faster than any she had faced before.
"You're mine, little alchemist," the scout hissed.
Xi Youran's hands moved almost instinctively, crafting a series of small alchemical grenades infused with Qi. She rolled forward, planting a trap that exploded in a controlled chain reaction. The scout's shadows were blown back, leaving black scorch marks on the wet stone.
As she fought, Xi Youran discovered something new: Hui's divine core, though gone in physical form, had left behind latent energy. By channeling it, she could manifest temporary phantom claws, Qi-infused and glowing with blue-white light, striking multiple targets simultaneously.
She screamed, feeling a surge of power that coursed through every vein: high-rank alchemy and combat merged into a single deadly flow. By the end of the skirmish, the scout fled, leaving Xi Youran standing drenched, battered, but triumphant.
JianZi's Web of Deception
Meanwhile, in the capital, JianZi had begun laying the groundwork to expose the Yuan Princess's deception. Her movements in the court were too precise, too deliberate—enough to arouse suspicion even among experienced spies.
"She's not the real Yuan Princess," JianZi murmured, reviewing the intercepted letters and movements of her attendants. "And TianZi… he's interfering in ways that are suspiciously convenient. Someone is using him as a pawn."
He set subtle traps: sending disguised envoys to provoke reactions, planting false information, and arranging hidden observation points near the palace. Every move was designed to reveal her true identity without tipping her off.
Reports from Cai Xiao arrived regularly:
"Master, the princess has been meeting clandestine figures at night. Their markings match Soul Clan signatures. If this continues, the capital could be compromised."
JianZi narrowed his eyes. "Then it's time we force her hand. Let her show her true colors—or fall into the traps we've set."
Storm on the Horizon
Xi Youran, now standing atop the cliff, gazed at the darkening horizon. Her body ached, her spirit felt stretched to its limits, but her mind was clearer than ever. High-rank alchemy no longer felt like a mystery—each formula, each burst of Qi, each strike in combat merged into a symphony of destructive precision.
She whispered softly to herself, "I will master this. I will survive. And I will return… to face those who wronged my family, no matter what it takes."
The rain poured harder, the winds howled through the mountains, and the shadows of Soul Clan scouts lingered in the distance, unaware that the storm they were chasing had become the tempest itself.
Far away, JianZi watched the capital, noting every movement of the false princess. Each step drew him closer to uncovering her secret—and closer to intersecting once again with Xi Youran, who was growing stronger with every heartbeat, every explosion, and every drop of blood spilled in her training.
The game of masks, deception, and vengeance had truly begun