Perspective: Bai Xuan Hua
This day seemed determined to surprise me.
And honestly, it had barely begun.
First, I witnessed the revelation of the man who would become my future husband — a cultivator at the peak of Zhuge Island, capable of imposing his will upon everyone with nothing but his own strength.
A man who, before hundreds of enemies, destroyed an entire clan with a single decision — no anger, no hesitation, no mercy.
Exactly like his father once did.
The new Emperor Zhuge — my fiancé — had proven that the crown was not merely a title, but an extension of his will.
And yet, even knowing that truth, I didn't expect destiny to bring me another surprise so soon.
But it did.
Because now, standing before me, was my brother — the heir of the reclusive and enigmatic Bai Clan, a man who rarely left the borders of our ancestral land.
And for the first time in many years, he had come to the imperial capital.
For a single reason.
And, to my misfortune, that reason was to take me back home.
Honestly… if this day decided to throw one more twist at me, I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle it without exploding.
My heart had already had enough.
The clash with the Shu Clan, the power Yeon had revealed, the tension in the air, the politics behind the scenes — and now my brother here, as if the universe had decided to test the limits of my patience.
At that moment, all I could do was breathe and focus on the immediate problem before me.
"There's no need for such formality, Emperor."
Hu Yan's voice was calm, polished, and impeccably polite — the kind of tone he used when he wanted to sound respectful, but also when he wanted to remind everyone that he was the one in control of the situation.
"Today, I came to the capital for a single purpose…" — he paused briefly, glancing at me — "to take my sister back home."
Those words cut through my thoughts like a cold blade.
Naturally, I understood the reasoning.
If things had gone wrong today — if the Imperial Clan had fallen before the Shu — my fate would have been inevitable: I would have been forced to return to the Bai Clan, protected by blood, but imprisoned by shame.
But things hadn't gone wrong.
The empire stood tall.
The throne was firm.
Yeon was more powerful than ever.
So why should I go back?
"Brother… this…" I began, searching for the right words — any that might slow the flow of that inevitable conversation.
But he merely raised one hand, asking for silence.
The gesture was gentle — but absolute.
"Your wedding will be in three months," he said, maintaining that serene and overly polite tone. "After that, you'll have plenty of time to grow tired of the imperial palace. For now, it's best that you return. Our parents miss you."
He said it so naturally that, for a moment, I actually felt guilty — as if I were selfish for not wanting to go.
But guilt wasn't what held me back.
It was something far simpler.
I didn't want to leave.
Not now.
Not after everything that had happened.
Even if he was right — even if it was logical to return to the Bai Clan until the wedding — something inside me refused to accept that idea.
Perhaps it was pride.
Or perhaps it was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, I felt part of something beyond my family's shadow.
But before I could gather the courage to answer, he continued:
"Besides, given the Emperor's cultivation…" — he paused briefly, turning his gaze toward Yeon — "I believe my father will want to meet him soon."
The way he said it wasn't a threat.
But it wasn't a simple invitation either.
It was a declaration of intent.
And knowing how my brother operated, that could only mean one thing:
the Bai Clan — silent and distant until now — was paying attention.
My gaze slowly turned toward Yeon.
He was still smiling — that same calm, infuriatingly perfect smile.
The flawless imperial face, trained to conceal any real thought.
It was the kind of smile that hid both secrets and intentions — but more than that, it was the kind of smile that made everyone around him forget that beneath that serenity stood a man capable of toppling empires.
His eyes met mine for just an instant.
And without saying a single word, I understood exactly what that smile meant:
"Let me handle this."
And as much as it irritated me, part of me knew he truly would.
The rest of the day could turn to chaos, but at that moment…
Bai Hu Yan, the Bai Clan, and even the upcoming wedding were just more pieces on a chessboard that Yeon was already moving.
And, as always, I was right in the middle of it.
Then Yeon — until now silent, merely watching the game unfold between us — finally spoke.
"I, too, naturally wish to visit the Bai Clan," he said with that soft, measured tone — one that sounded simple enough to be harmless, yet carried an unmistakable weight of intent.
He kept his gaze fixed on my brother, but the smile never left his face.
That same imperial, exasperating smile — the one he wore when he already knew how the conversation would end before it even began.
"After all, we'll soon be family," he continued, adjusting his mantle with an easy gesture. "But please, Hu Yan… hear this emperor's request."
My brother remained silent, like a man watching a chess piece being placed with deliberate care.
Yeon tilted his head slightly, still looking at him, and said:
"Instead of taking Xuan Hua back immediately, allow her to remain here in the palace for two more weeks. After the wedding, we'll make up for those two weeks at the Bai Clan. A fair exchange, wouldn't you agree?"
The air between them shifted — subtly, but unmistakably.
That kind of stillness that only arises when two players realize the game is far from over.
For me, though, Yeon's words were pure melody.
Simply perfect.
On one hand, he was being polite — offering a reasonable, balanced arrangement.
On the other, he was cornering my brother: to refuse would be to imply that the Bai Clan was unwilling to welcome the Emperor of Zhuge Island.
And that was the kind of offense not even the proudest Bai could afford.
I almost smiled.
It was a flawless move — elegant, discreet, and cruel in just the right measure.
But political games — especially between great players — are never simple.
Hu Yan stayed silent for a few moments.
His pale-blue eyes, calm as still water, studied Yeon as though he were a complex spiritual puzzle that couldn't yet be solved.
Then he finally replied — with the same serene tone he used whenever he decided to flip an entire board with a single move.
"In that case…" he said, slowly opening the fan in his hand, "…how about I personally remain here for those two weeks as well? Then, at the end of that time, we can all travel together to the Bai Clan."
The tone was flawlessly polite.
But the intent was sharp — impossible to miss.
He wasn't just agreeing to the proposal; he was imposing his own condition.
I could only stay… if he stayed too.
A subtle way of saying the Bai Clan would not simply obey orders.
A gesture of protection — or surveillance.
Depending on who was watching.
Yeon, however, didn't show the slightest hint of irritation.
Quite the opposite.
The smile on his face remained — a little wider now, almost as if he had predicted exactly that response.
"Of course," he answered smoothly. "You're more than welcome."
He paused briefly, and the light in his eyes shifted — just slightly, turning almost teasing.
"After all, we'll soon be family."
And with that, the conversation was over.
Formally, at least.
My brother nodded, satisfied — or pretending to be.
I, meanwhile, simply drew a slow breath.
The truth was, I didn't want to leave.
Not now.
There were still questions to ask — and secrets Yeon refused to share with me.
I knew that look in his eyes — the same calm look he wore before completely rewriting the fate of anyone foolish enough to underestimate him.
And by the way he was looking at me at that moment — between one smile and another — I knew one thing with absolute certainty:
He had no intention of letting me go either.