The night of the grand banquet arrived, and the imperial capital buzzed with an energy unseen in a decade. Carriages pulled by spiritual beasts, banners of sects that rarely left their sacred mountains, and nobles from distant kingdoms filled the wide avenues leading to the Imperial Palace. It was a demonstration of power, a pilgrimage compelled by the thunder of a second Sovereign.
At the main gates, monumental and flanked by two hundred-meter-tall dragon statues, the captain of the Imperial Guard watched the procession with hawkish eyes. Beside him, a young guard, new to his post, could not hide his astonishment.
"Captain," the young guard whispered, "are those from the Golden Sword Sect? The one in the front is Young Master Jin Tian, isn't it? They seem... smaller than in the legends."
The captain, a weathered man with a scar crossing his cheek, narrowed his eyes. "They're not smaller, kid," he answered in a low voice, his gaze fixed on the approaching delegation. "They're just... tamer."
And it was true. The delegation from the Golden Sword Sect approached the gate. Young Master Jin Tian, whose face was usually a mask of arrogance, now wore a forced, respectful smile. He and Elder Lin Jian, upon reaching the captain, did something unthinkable: they performed a deep, respectful bow. Not to a noble, not to a prince. To the gate guards.
"Captain," said Elder Lin, his voice soft and humble, "we thank the Imperial Guard for their tireless vigil. We bring a small gift to show our respect for your hard work."
A disciple stepped forward and offered the captain a lacquered wooden box. Inside were several high-quality spiritual pills, enough to boost the cultivation of an entire squad. The captain was stunned for a moment, but his training took over.
"The Golden Sword Sect is too kind," he said in a neutral tone. "The chamberlain is waiting to announce your arrival."
Later, as the delegation presented their credentials to the head eunuch at the hall's entrance, they repeated the gesture. They presented an even more expensive gift: a wind-spirit jade bracelet.
"A humble gift for Her Majesty, the Empress," Jin Tian said, his voice devoid of all its former arrogance. "And an offering of apology for any inconvenience our past behavior may have caused. We hope tonight's celebration is as glorious as Their Majesties' power."
The eunuch, accustomed to the pride of the great sects, was momentarily speechless. The submission was so unexpected, so complete, that it was almost more shocking than their previous arrogance. The message was clear: the lion of the north had been tamed.

While the nobility and martial cultivators filled the main hall, two modestly dressed men approached a registration table at a side entrance. They were Fatty Meng, clad in silk robes that looked about to surrender, and the elegant and scholarly Xie Yi.
The Master of Ceremonies, a high-ranking eunuch with a face that seemed carved from ice, eyed them with barely concealed disdain. He checked his list. "Ah, yes. The Caravan of a Hundred Curiosities," he said, his voice nasal. "Your seats are in the west wing, with the minor merchants and moneylenders. Please, do not disturb the guests of honor."
Fatty Meng was about to protest, offended, but Xie Yi stopped him with a gesture. With a calm smile that didn't reach his eyes, he addressed the eunuch. "You are very kind, esteemed master," Xie Yi said, his voice so smooth and cultured that the eunuch had to pay attention. "But we have not come as simple merchants. We have come as humble admirers of the Wei lineage's power, and we bring a modest gift for Her Majesty, the Empress, to celebrate her ascension to the Sovereign Realm."
He gestured, and an attendant stepped forward, opening an ornate box made of frozen-heart wood. The air around it instantly chilled. Inside, on a bed of silk that seemed woven from dawn's frost, rested a bottle of wine. It was no ordinary bottle: it appeared to be made of starlight crystal, and within it, a pale, silvery liquid swirled slowly, emitting a faint, ethereal light.
"The 'Twilight Empress's Breath'," Xie Yi announced, his voice a reverent whisper. "A vintage from two thousand years ago. It is said that only three bottles were ever produced, and the other two were consumed by the Founding Emperor himself."
All color drained from the eunuch's face. He knew the legends. The value of that bottle could not be measured in gold; it was a national treasure, a piece of history.
Xie Yi closed the box gently. "Please, ensure Her Majesty receives it personally. And let her know," he added, bowing slightly, "that it is a gift… from a friend who appreciates true art."
The eunuch gaped, his disdain replaced by absolute panic and respect. He bowed so low his nose nearly touched the floor. "Of… of course, esteemed sir! I will see to it personally! Your seats… allow me to relocate you to the platform of honor, next to the princes of the vassal kingdoms!"
Xie Yi simply smiled. "That won't be necessary. The west wing is fine. We prefer to watch from the shadows."
And with that, he and Fatty Meng walked away, leaving the eunuch trembling, holding the box as if it were a dragon's egg. He understood that these were not simple merchants; they were a power of an entirely different kind.

Far from the bustle of the grand hall, in the tranquility of her private chambers, Wei Yao prepared. Her handmaidens, the most skilled in the palace, moved around her like busy bees, adjusting every fold and placing every jewel.
She wore a golden gown. A dazzling, bold, almost aggressive gold. The fabric seemed to be made of liquid sunlight, and her every movement created a cascade of reflections. It didn't make her look like a delicate princess; it made her look like a young sun, radiant and filled with a power that could barely be contained. Her expression, as she gazed into the bronze mirror, was one of serene confidence: the calm at the center of her own storm.
"Your Majesty," her head handmaiden said, placing the last phoenix hairpin in her red hair, "you are… you are resplendent."
Wei Yao smiled. "Thank you, Lin. That is enough. You may leave."
The handmaidens curtsied and exited, closing the doors behind them. Wei Yao stood alone for a moment, taking a deep breath, feeling the power of her Decree swirling beneath her skin. She was ready.
A lazy voice came from her balcony, making her smile. "I wouldn't say resplendent."
Wei Feng slipped into the room from the balcony's shadows, moving with the silent grace of a cat. He looked her up and down, his eyes scanning her with brazen approval. "No," he continued, slowly circling her. "Resplendent is for stars. You look like a newly minted gold coin. Dangerous, desirable, and promising immense wealth to whoever possesses you." He stopped in front of her. "It makes me want to tuck you away in my pocket."
Wei Yao laughed softly, a mischievous smile lighting up her face. "Be careful, Uncle. I bite." "I know," he replied, his own smile widening. "That's what makes it fun."
He closed the distance between them and gave her a quick, possessive kiss—a kiss that was both a promise and a brand. The taste of wine and of him lingered on her lips.
"Now go," he told her, his voice a low whisper. "Go and dazzle the fools. Let them see the sun and forget that a storm is brewing." He paused, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Remember the lesson. Calm at the center, storm at the edges. Don't let their emotions touch you. You control the room. They just live in it." He winked. "Oh, and if the roasted duck is any good, save me some."
Wei Yao headed toward the grand hall, toward the cacophony of politics and power. The light from the corridors made her golden gown shine like a beacon. She felt the quiet power of her new Decree vibrating within her and the taste of her master's kiss still on her lips.
She wasn't going to a celebration. She was going to a battle. And, for the first time in her life, she felt completely ready for war.