The clang of steel echoed across the Han training grounds — rhythmic, sharp, controlled.
Rows of young soldiers moved in perfect unison, their swords flashing beneath the dawn sky. The rhythmic clash of steel and the sharp commands of captains filling the air, but the sounds were hollow, lacking their usual spirit. The scent of sweat, dust, and faint sandalwood still lingered in the wind.
It had been two weeks since they had burned her body, and the mourning still clung to the air of the Han residence like a persistent shroud. Mourning banners had been removed, but grief still whispered in every footstep, clung to every robe. Every soldier moved with a grim caution, their eyes nervously flicking towards the highest observation stage.
She stood there. Han JiLan, the Phantom General, overlooking the grounds like a ghost bound to her battlefield. Her gold- trimmed black cloak fluttered in the wind. Her posture was ramrod straight, her face a perfect, beautiful void of any emotion. But her eyes, blazing with a cold, deadly light, swept over the trainees below, and wherever they landed, men flinched. Her temper had become a thing of legend in the past fortnight—a short, explosive fuse waiting for a spark.
Han Jiutian stood with his arms crossed on a nearby stage, like a thundercloud of barely contained rage.
In the middle of the training session, General Han arrived, his footsteps heavy on the wooden stairs of the stage. He looked older. His gait was slower than usual. The limp was almost visible now, though he tried to mask it. The wound on his arm, bound in fresh linen, was healing, but the wound in his heart was not. But those trivialities weren't what made him look so tired.
It was what was missing….
It was who he was missing…..
He came to a stop beside his oldest daughter, his gaze following hers. JiLan's cold, murderous eyes softened the instant she realized , the only crack in the armor she showed the world.
General Han didn't speak at first. He simply looked out at the younger soldiers below, sweat glistening on their faces, trying not to glance at the platform where their Phantom General stood. Then he looked back at his daughter, stoic, resilient , strong- more like a son than a daughter. A rare sigh escaped his lips.
Finally, he broke the silence, voice low.
"She was barely six when she begged to enlist—" he looked at his daughters side profile. "she wanted to fight beside her siblings "
JiLan look at her farther, who is trying to console her in his most gentle yet not-so-gentle way possible. A soft chuckle escaped her lips — the sound more breath than laughter. But the silence fell again. Her gaze turned towards a young trainee fumbling her stance below. And her voice, when it came at last, was surprisingly soft.
"She stood— right there," she murmured, a phantom of a memory in her tone. "Held her sword upside down, Bowed with her feet too wide apart, Called me 'Master' with the wrong salute."
A single, rough chuckle escaped General Han's throat. It died just as quickly, leaving the silence heavier than before. "She said, 'If I can be half the sword my sister is, that's enough for me."
Han JiLan's eyes shimmered, but she didn't blink. Her fists clenched behind her back.
"She became more than that," she stated, her voice hardening again, becoming the general. "She led. She protected. She died a warrior of the Han crest."
There was pride in her voice, but pain too — the kind that only bled when no one was looking.
A heavy silence passed between them, a shared space of grief. Finally, the General asked the question that had been weighing on him for fourteen days.
"What're you gonna do now, A-Yan?"
JiLan turned her head and looked at her father. But the look in her eyes made the old general's blood run cold. It wasn't the explosive rage that he saw in Jiutian. It was something far more terrifying: the chilling, absolute calm of a person who has already calculated the price of their goal and has willingly decided to pay it, no matter the cost.
No… what terrified him was what wasn't there.
Hope. Joy. The spark of something worth living for.
He wasn't afraid of the enemy she would destroy— he was afraid that in the process, he would lose his this daughter, too.
Before he could speak, a new voice cut through the air, calm and clear. "Father—"
General Han and JiLan turned toward the direction where that voice came from in unison.
Han Yueming approached — winded, travel-worn, his robes dusty, his eyes rimmed with exhaustion.
He looked like a man who had spent days chasing a ghost and finally caught it — only to realize the ghost wasn't running, it was calling.
"Yueming…" General Han stepped down from the platform. "Where have you been?"
Yueming exhaled sharply. " went looking for answers"
LiuYan descended the platform like a shadow. Her voice was calm, but edged with something sharp.
" did you find any?"
Yueming nodded. Slowly. Gravely "There's something you all need to see," he said. "In private."
The heavy door of the strategy chamber slid shut, sealing the four of them in tense silence. Yueming stood at the center. General Han sat with his arm wrapped tight. Jiutian paced like a coiled serpent. LiuYan sat still — spine straight, legs crossed — like a queen of death awaiting a verdict.
Yueming slowly unwrapped the object. It was a single, masterfully crafted throwing knife, its hilt inlaid with a unfamiliar, elegant pattern.
"Our intelligence network is… thorough. The assassin was a professional, but - sloppy in his pride. He left a trail. So I followed it."
He looked at each of them, his voice low and steady. "That man who killed Xiao Hua— he's from the Lin Clan."
The name dropped into the room like a block of ice. General Han stared, his face a mask of disbelief.
"The Lin Clan of Mount Jinghu—? That's impossible." General Han was in utter disbelief.
"They were your mother's staunchest allies. Righteous to the bone. Loyal beyond pride. This is….. impractical"
Yueming's lips twisted.
" that's what even I thought at first, father"
Jiutian slammed his fist on the table, the wood groaned in protest. "A clan that prides itself on righteousness. Is this what they call just? Slaughtering a sixteen-year-old girl mid-battle?"
General Han frowned deeply.
" How 'bout that spiritual fragment— Er- ge? Did you find any clue?" LiuYans's voice came making all of them turn towards Yueming.
" That's exactly how I confirmed where did he came from. His meridian signature is the same as of a Lin clan member. He's an insider"
"Are you certain it wasn't a rogue disciple? May be a traitor disowned by the Lin?" general Han asked, his skepticism as visible as daylight.
"He had full internal access to Lin Clan's encrypted sect scrolls. He bypassed the soul-seal barriers. That kind of clearance doesn't come from a rogue. Also the demonic traces that was left on our xiaohua- looks like they are in deals with those nasty creatures too."
"THEN IT'S WAR." Han Jiutian was raging. "They hide a snake and call themselves holy? I'll lead a legion to their cursed mountain and burn it to the ground myself!"
" You can't …. Brother"
A voice, colder than the grave, cut through his rage. Shen LiuYan,1 who has been silent the whole time spoke with finality in her voice. "And you won't "
She rose from her seat, walking slowly to the window where cherry blossoms danced in the wind. Her voice, calm as a still lake.
" But we'll indeed, pay them a visit" her chilling voice rang out, dripping with killing intent.
General Han stood. " A- Yan, we—"
" Not with swords, father" She turned, eyes cold, calculating.
"Yet" her voice sent shivers down general Han's spine.
"We speak. We ask. We give them a chance to explain this betrayal."
" For what, we have all the proofs to prove that they betrayed us, JiLan. Those bastards killed our little sister. I'll never forgive them". Jiutian growled under his breath.
" Neither do I big brother, neither do I—" she looked deep in her brother's eyes. "But you need to see the circumstances too"
"what the hell are you talking about" Jiutian snapped.
" Think— we, the Hans of the west, everyone knows that we hold this ground. Not even the emperor tries to provoke us. A war between the House of Han and the House of Lin would tear the empire in two. In the end of the day , we'll be the one to loose public support if their clan wasn't really involved. That's exactly the kind of chaos a traitor'd want."
Hearing his sister's words Han Jiutian calmed down.
"You think they'll confess?"
LiuYans's gaze locked with his. For a moment, time stopped.
"No."
She turned again, back to the window.
"But, when we do draw our swords, I want the heavens to know that we tried peace first."
The wind howled through the cracks in the walls. And so it began.
The flame was lit.
The storm that would shake even the righteous was gathering.
Author's note:
1. THE PROTAGONIST'S TWO NAMES, HAN JILAN AND SHEN LIUYAN, WILL BE USED TO DESCRIBE THE MOOD AND THE PERSONALITY SHE TAKING OVER. HAN JILAN WILL BE USED TO DESCRIBE THE HONORABLE AND RIGHTEOUS DAUGHTER OF THE HAN CLAN, WHILE SHEN LIUYAN WILL BE USED TO DESCRIBE THE MERCILESS, CALCULATING SIDE OF HER WHICH SHE OFTEN USE TO SLAUGHTER.