The morning light that filtered into Yong'an was soft and pale, painting the frosted rooftops in shades of silver and rose. The air was crisp, laced with the faint scent of plum blossoms and dew-kissed bamboo. A pale mist still clung to the edges of the tiled roofs, and sunlight filtered through the lattice windows like golden silk unraveling. The biting wind of the previous night had settled, leaving behind a world that felt clean, quiet, and deceptively peaceful.
Han JiLan—for that was the name she had woken with, the name of duty and control— stepped barefoot into the inner courtyard. The quiet crunch of gravel underfoot was the only sound that marked her presence. Her robes were unadorned—simple navy layered with charcoal gray. Her long hair was tied back with a black ribbon, loose strands drifting in the breeze.
She paused at the edge of the veranda.
Below her, the courtyard came alive with motion. The courtyard, which had been a stage for a deadly dance of steel and shadow yesterday, was now a place of disciplined practice. Not the rigid drills of palace guards or the showy acrobatics of sect disciples, but something subtler. Sharper. Dozens of the Black Phoenix guards, now in simple training tunics, each wielding a slender blade, moved through their morning forms, their movements synchronized, their breath misting in the cold air.
But JiLan's eyes didn't linger on them for a long while.
Her gaze found Xie Yuan.
Clad in a dark, simple robes, he stood like the still center of a storm. He was no longer the polite merchant or the deadly duelist from the day before. Moving among his apprentices with a quiet authority, his posture radiated the calm discipline. His limp a subtle, rhythmic counterpoint to his otherwise fluid grace. His voice was sharp but not cruel, yet it cracked like a whip when he spoke.
"Again. Your footing falters in transition. A true blade doesn't chase momentum—it guides it."
His hands corrected the flawed stance with an expert's touch. He was a teacher, a leader, a guardian shaping his protectors.
JiLan watched in silence. He was slower than she remembered. His limp more visible now. But his precision—his will—hadn't faded in the slightest. He was everything she remembered about her uncle Xie.
After a few moments, he seemed to have sense her presence. He finished correcting a young soldier's grip on a sword, gave a final nod, and turned. The sharp, appraising gaze of the commander softened the instant it found her, melting away to reveal the weary, paternal warmth beneath.
He walked toward her, his limp more pronounced now that he was no longer in the heat of combat. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes scanning her face, not for threats, but for the well-being of the child he remembered.
"The morning meal is ready," he said, his voice a low, gentle rumble. "Did you rest well?"
A small, genuine smile—the first she had shown him since her arrival—touched Han JiLan's lips. The cold "Shen LiuYan" faded, and the girl he had carried across a frozen wasteland looked out from her eyes.
"You haven't changed even a bit, have you, Uncle Xie?"
"Well…. I don't remember having a lumpy leg before but—" Xie yuan touched his beard like a strategists. " But it's true I'm still the same good looking man"
A sudden yet profound laugh broke out of JiLan without a warning. "I was right. You're still that nonchalant uncle…"
He returned her smile, a faint crinkling at the corners of his eyes. "If I had changed, would you still recognize me?"
"Mmmm…. May be.." she didn't gave a straight answer. She didn't need to.
"Some things are not meant to change, my child. Come….. You must eat. The morning tea is fresh, and I instructed the kitchen to prepare that sweet bean porridge you used to steal when Madam Ruohua wasn't looking."
Her smile faded a little. " But she always blamed the stable boys for that"
"She always knew it was you," he replied smoothly. "She just let you get away with it— hope she is in a good place now"
He led her not to a grand dining hall, but to a small, warm antechamber where a simple breakfast of hot congee, steamed buns, and fragrant tea was laid out for two. They ate in a comfortable silence at first, the easy quiet of two people who had a shared history too deep for small talk. They spoke of the changing seasons on the border, of the quality of the local tea, of small, safe things. For a moment, it felt almost normal.
Almost.
" Why are you using that name, my child. You refused to acknowledge your own kin to be a Han. Aren't you disregarding your mother—" although his voice was gentle, Xie yuan sounded like he was accusing her.
Han JiLan set her teacup down. The quiet, domestic peace of the morning receded, and the weight of the past returned. Her gaze drifted for a moment, as if seeing a ghost from sixteen years ago.
" I'm not trying to sound selfish uncle, but your master—" what followed was a heavy sigh, filled with unrequited memories.
"I don't remember her-- being my mother. But her sister, by the way—that's who I remember as my mom. There is— a distinguished difference"
" You call your aunt your mother now? What kind of irony is that?" Xie yuan sounded like he was getting angry.
JiLan smiled. " while I was there, I always felt like there was this darkness in me, puling me into a void I can't escape. And Han JiLan was the only thing that kept me from falling in to that abyss."
Xie Yuan stilled. Just slightly. Like a man who'd been waiting for that answer for sixteen years.
" I don't know how to explain this to you uncle but— even though madam Han never gave birth to Shen LiuYan, she is the reason why Han JiLan exist."
Her sincere words made Xie yuan understand just how much this child had grown up. "What's with that sword then?, how come you own it? Do you know how dangerous it is to wield it!?."
LiuYan's gaze turned dark. Her eyes looked so much predatory, which made even a seasoned martial artist like Xie yuan uneasy.
" Crimson mourning" she said, running a finger along her teacup. " yes, that's the name."
She looked up — and in that moment, her smile vanished. "But dangerous—? Uncle, that's me!"
A tremor ran through his hand as he set down the teapot — just a flicker, but enough. He masked it with a cough.
" wh- what?"
" I had to stop myself from giving into that darkness of mine. So I just ripped it out." LiuYan said casually, while taking a sip from her cup ever so gracefully.
Xie yuan was stunned. He knew the father of this child was indeed a merciless killer, yet he never thought his greatest fear would come to life, not this soon. He became terrified.
" So that's how you got that wound…. The physician told me you have a—"
" The wound in my solar plexus—yeah…" she was nonchalant, and that's exactly what made Xie yuan uneasy.
" My child, the reason you mother— m-my master was able to wield her divine sword was because of the pure purpose she had. But you—"
" I was able to balance it." JiLan interrupted him. Sensing his fear.
" I forged shattered radiance with a part of her majesty's blade, uncle. I won't turn out to be the man I hate with my life."
That simple sentence gave Xie yuan the answer he wanted. He heaved a heavy sigh. Like his biggest horror diminished in to a thin mist.
" but uncle, I also have a question. What happened after you left me and LiuHua at the Han clan?"
The haze outside the window had begun to thin, but a different fog crept into his eyes. His face, for a moment, was a mask of old, deep pain. He took a long, slow breath, his eyes looking at something far, far away.
"The journey back," he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, "was not kind…"