The banquet hall glittered with imperial grandeur. Tonight wasn't just a display of wealth — it was An Li's official engagement celebration, though whispers buzzed about how the Marshal's sudden return had eclipsed her carefully orchestrated spotlight.
Xiao Lin stood quietly beneath a column strung with paper lanterns, dressed in soft silvers and icy blues, his fox pendant nestled against his chest. His shoulder still ached from recent training, but he bore it well — almost too well. His ruby-red eyes swept the crowd, lingering on An Li, radiant and poised beside her chosen noble fiancé.
Some part of Xiao Lin still flinched at how close Sheng Long had gotten to her under the guise of investigation. It was a strategic decision, of course. She was a suspected conspirator tied to the Zerg threat. But the closeness gnawed at Xiao Lin's chest in ways he didn't yet know how to name.
Lu Jian hovered nearby, making polite conversation and occasionally glancing toward Yan Shuo, clearly using Xiao Lin as a stepping stone to catch his eye. Xiao Lin noticed, of course — he wasn't foolish — but said nothing. Better to be useful and quiet than to cause a scene.
Then, a flicker in the corner of his eye. Movement. Wrong. Too fast.
In a heartbeat, Xiao Lin spun.
A blade gleamed.
He pushed Lu Jian aside and took the strike himself — the dagger slashing across his side instead of piercing his heart.
Pain. Sharp and immediate.
Screams broke out across the banquet. Nobles scattered. Guards rushed in.
Sheng Long was there in an instant, crossing the floor like thunder breaking through the clouds.
"Xiao Lin!"
The assassin tried to escape but was caught mid-step by Yan Shuo's spear. Sheng Long didn't even glance at the would-be killer. His world had narrowed to the trembling figure in his arms.
Xiao Lin looked up at him, blood staining his lips.
"I'm okay…" he whispered, then passed out.
Within moments, Xiao Lin was carried to the palace physician's chambers. The guests were escorted out, An Li's engagement officially ruined — overshadowed again, this time by violence and bloodshed.
But even as Xiao Lin was tended to, fevered and unconscious, memories began to stir.
Not from this life, but from long ago.
Flashbacks
A woman with silver hair like his, and eyes like red lanterns.
"You must never let them know what lies inside you, Lin'er."
Symbols drawn in ancient ink on the soles of his baby feet. A golden beast with nine tails etched into his skin, hidden beneath layers of memory.
"They'll come for you when they learn the truth…"
"Because you are more than a healer. You are a gate. You are what they fear most."
Then, screams.
Fire.
His mother protecting him one last time.
Xiao Lin jerked awake, chest heaving, and for a moment — he saw her. Her face, her tears, her sacrifice.
"Mother…"
Sheng Long stood outside the room, fists clenched at his sides. He hadn't left since Xiao Lin had been injured. He blamed himself. For getting too close to An Li. For not seeing the danger sooner.
The doctors said Xiao Lin would live.
But when Sheng Long had seen the blood, something inside him had shattered.
When the news of Xiao Lin's injury reached the Empire's ears, reporters asked questions. Nobles whispered again. Some mocked. Some speculated.
But Sheng Long silenced them all with a single, public declaration.
Standing before the empire's council, dressed in black and red, eyes blazing:
"I, Sheng Long, vow this — no matter what war awaits us, no matter who stands in my path — my heart belongs to Xiao Lin."
Even in peace, that vow was a declaration of war.
And every enemy now knew exactly where the dragon's heart lay.