Not every heir wears a crown. Some wear scars.
The days after the attack were silent but heavy — like the breath before a storm.
AiLi hadn't spoken much. She didn't need to. Her hands spoke for her — flipping through pages, scribbling notes, drawing bloodlines that twisted more than any fairytale.
Because she had found something.
Someone.
Another name.
Lin Qian.
Female.
Age: 22.
Mother: Unknown.
Father: Huang Yifeng.
And underneath, scrawled in trembling ink —
"Raised by the White Dragon Society."
Zhou stared at the name for a long time.
"So… he had another daughter?"
AiLi nodded. "Born before me. Hidden. Trained. They call her the Ghost Blade in the south."
"She knows about you?"
"I don't know."
Zhou leaned back, exhaling slow. "If she does… then our enemies have another card to play."
AiLi looked down. "And if she doesn't, then we've just become hers."
Across the city, in a garden soaked in orchids and secrets, Mrs. Deng poured tea with hands too steady.
Opposite her, Mei Ling sat draped in ivory — calm, poised, venomous.
"She's getting bolder," Mrs. Deng murmured.
"She shot one of ours," Mei Ling replied. "And Zhou let her."
"I raised that boy to be a king," the matriarch said coldly. "Not a fool in love."
Mei Ling tilted her head. "Then maybe it's time you crown someone else."
Mrs. Deng's eyes flicked upward.
"Who did you have in mind?"
And then Mei Ling dropped the name:
"Lin Qian."
The meeting was arranged in a burned-out opera house. Neutral ground. Empty stage. Broken mirrors.
Zhou and AiLi arrived side by side, flanked by Li Chen.
And there she was.
Lin Qian.
Tall. Lethal. Eyes that matched AiLi's too closely to deny.
She stepped forward, no fear in her bones.
"So," she said, voice like silk over steel, "you're the other one."
AiLi met her gaze. "Half of him, maybe. But entirely myself."
A pause. A glance between blood.
Zhou stepped in. "We didn't come for a fight."
Lin Qian smirked. "But you brought one."
Behind her, men stepped from the shadows — blades drawn.
AiLi whispered, "We're not enemies."
"You sure?" Lin Qian asked. "Because our father left me behind. Raised me in war while you lived in perfume and pearls."
"That wasn't my choice."
"No," Lin Qian said, stepping closer. "But now, you have one. Stay in your tower. Or fight for the truth with me."
AiLi didn't hesitate. "I'll fight. But not as your shadow. As your sister."
Later, in the quiet of the penthouse, AiLi stood by the window, her thoughts louder than the city.
"She hates me," she whispered.
Zhou came up behind her. "She hates the lie."
"She is the lie. And so am I."
Zhou pulled her into his arms.
"No. You're the weapon fate gave me to end all of theirs."