Chapter 219: 219- Welcome Home [1]

Khaisang’s knees burned against the stone.

Every instinct inside of him screamed at him to stay down, to yield, to find ways to run and survival.

But Gu Zhen’s shrill curses, his screeching voice grinding into his ears, left him no choice.

He was a hired protector. A Nascent Soul master! HE COULDN’T, NO.. HE WOULDN’T BE REMEMBERED AS A DOG WHO COWERED.

He bit down, forcing his trembling legs to move. The air was thick, crushing, but he pushed.

He rose, inch by inch, muscles straining as though lifting mountains.

His hands found the hilts of his twin swords, his breath tearing from his chest in ragged gasps.

Stand. Stand, damn you! Show them the strength of Khaisang!

He planted one foot forward, dragging his body upright through the storm of Fang Yuan’s killing aura. His vision swam.

His teeth bared. His heart roared.

"AHHHH!"

And then he saw it.

The courtyard had somehow tilted. His body even seemed to sway strangely.

He felt that something was wrong, very wrong. His arms... his chest... they were still there, but he could feel the feeling slipping away from him.

He blinked, confused. Why was the ground rushing up to meet him again?

And then the truth struck like lightning because what he saw, still standing, still clutching its twin blades, was his own body.

The world turned black before he could even scream.

Fang Yuan watched as the Nascent Soul realm cultivator’s headless body finally toppled, crashing to the ground with a hollow thud.

Silence spread through the Gu estate, broken only by the hiss of blood steaming on the stones.

All around him lay severed heads, lifeless bodies strewn like discarded puppets.

Only one figure remained trembling before him, Gu Zhen, the so-called heir of the Gu Clan.

Fang Yuan’s eyes narrowed, his voice calm, almost weary.

"This is farewell. Next time, pray that you are strong enough not to be killed for the sins of your elders."

His sword flashed. The boy’s head rolled, eyes still wide with anger and regret, before the body slumped beside the rest.

★★★

Coldwind City, Fang Family Estate:

In the Phoenix Soul Pavilion, adjacent to the patriarch’s chambers, lay a newly claimed room, the Matriarch’s quarters.

Inside, two figures sat in the warm lamplight. One girl perched before the mirror, her reflection caught between nervousness and restraint.

Behind her stood a woman, serene and composed, her every movement carrying an air of quiet dominance.

Lin Zhaoyue’s slender fingers glided through Fang Lian’s hair, slow, deliberate, as though each strand were a treasure to be cared for.

The rhythm was gentle, almost hypnotic, like a mother tending her child.

She had settled behind the girl as if she truly meant to adopt her.

"Matriarch Fang..." Fang Lian whispered hesitantly.

A soft smack landed on her shoulder. Lin Zhaoyue leaned in, her pout playful yet insistent. "It’s Mom."

Fang Lian’s lips trembled. She bit down for courage before forcing the word out, low and shy. "...Mom."

In that instant, Lin Zhaoyue’s expression brightened. She slipped her arms around Fang Lian’s shoulders, hugging her from behind.

Their faces touched as they stared into the bronze mirror together, two reflections, one domineering and affectionate, the other small and unsure.

Her voice dropped to a tender murmur, both teasing and sincere. "What is it, my beloved daughter?"

Fang Lian hesitated, her hands clutching her lap tightly.

"I... shouldn’t I go back and cultivate? I don’t want to fall behind..." Her voice was soft, almost apologetic.

Lin Zhaoyue’s lips curled into a pout again, this time heavier with emotion.

She nuzzled her cheek against Fang Lian’s. "Why? Do you already not want to stay with your mother anymore?"

Fang Lian’s lips parted, but no answer came. Her throat locked, and instead of speaking she lowered her eyes and silently prayed in her heart.

Master... please come back. Please save me...

As if Heaven had answered that desperate thought, the doors burst open.

A servant stumbled in, breathless, her voice breaking into a scream.

"Matriarch Fang! The clan head—! The clan head is alive!"

The warm glow on Lin Zhaoyue’s face vanished in an instant.

The softness, the playfulness, the doting, all froze over into a mask of ice.

The servant’s knees buckled at once.

She dropped to the floor, forehead pressed to the wood, trembling.

"Forgive me, Matriarch! I—I was too loud, I spoke out of turn! Please, forgive me!" Her voice cracked, tears spilling freely.

Lin Zhaoyue exhaled slowly, the sound halfway between a sigh and a warning breeze. "Your screaming was very unprofessional."

Then, after a deliberate pause, her eyes softened the barest degree. "But the news you bring warrants such a reaction. For that reason you’re forgiven. Smile a little."

The servant sobbed with relief, knocking her head against the ground in thanks.

Lin Zhaoyue turned back to Fang Lian, her smile once again gentle, though the cold edge lingered in her eyes. "Come, let’s go meet your father."

Fang Lian’s heart thudded against her ribs, faster and faster until it felt like it might burst.

Master... Master is alive! He’s alive! Tears welled in her eyes, not from sorrow but from overwhelming joy.

Thank Heaven! You heard me—you really brought him back from the dead to save me from Matriarch Fang’s clutches!

She turned toward Lin Zhaoyue, expecting the same joy reflected on her face but there was none.

The Matriarch’s expression was calm, collected, almost indifferent, as if the news meant nothing.

And then realization struck.

The only one who ever said Master was alive... was her. She never doubted.

So she knew all this time? Why didn’t she tell...

She never finished the thought. The answer struck before she could.

She had indeed heard her told everyone. Over and over, in fact. It was just that no one had believed her, dismissing it all as nothing more than a widow’s sorrow.

While Fang Lian wrestled with her revelation, Lin Zhaoyue’s mind was far simpler, far sharper.

Don’t overreact. Keep calm. This is the only way to win his heart.

Her lips curved ever so slightly, her eyes glinting with possessiveness.

He’s mine. Only mine.