Capítulo 62: Princess Shan's Past

Princess Shan slipped into the capital under cover of twilight the previous night, her arrival utterly unannounced. Though her status granted her every right to fly past the sprawling city walls, she chose secrecy instead—her pale figure drifting through a maze of barricades and wards without so much as a ripple in the protective Formation's surface. Not even the city's night patrol caught so much as a glimpse of her passing.

The real commotion began when she reached the palace gates.

A pair of imperial guards, dressed in navy-blue armor with ceremonial halberds crossed before the entrance, stiffened at her approach. Her robes were of an unassuming color—blue, as worn by women of the royal bloodline—but the most striking thing was her unveiled face. In all the empire, only a handful had ever seen Princess Shan without the delicate cloth hiding her features.

"S–stop there!" one of the guards demanded, voice catching in his throat. Even by the flickering torchlight, Princess Shan's beauty was a sight to behold—like a carved statue come to life, each feature finely wrought, perfectly balanced. Yet their training compelled them to block her way. "The palace is closed during night hours. Identify yourself."

Princess Shan's eyes were like polished jade as she regarded them, cool and unreadable. Without a word, she slipped out a small token etched in gold filigree: the Imperial Token, an undeniable symbol of the Royal Family.

When the guards caught sight of the elaborate crest, their faces went ashen. "R–Royal Token… Blue robes… That's—" The elder guard's voice trembled. "Princess Shan! Forgive us—we, we had no idea."

She gave a slight nod, then gestured imperiously at the gate. "Open it," she said, her voice crisp as morning frost.

"Yes, Princess!" Both men scrambled to comply, nearly tripping over one another. As heavy iron-banded doors groaned apart, the younger guard risked clearing his throat. "Y–Your Highness, the Emperor gave orders that… that we inform him the moment you returned. He said it was urgent."

Princess Shan was already stepping across the threshold. Her words drifted over her shoulder like a knife wrapped in silk: "If he wishes to see me, he knows where I'll be—my chambers."

Then she vanished into the gloom of the courtyard, leaving the guards behind, wide-eyed and anxious. One would have to break the news to the Emperor… and potentially face his wrath.

She had almost reached her quarters when a figure lurched into her path—Zhen Ping, the Crown Prince himself, reeking of liquor and cheap perfume. His eyes swept over her unveiled face, glinting with a feverish mix of surprise and rage. He knew well the vow she'd made: never to remove her veil unless she had chosen her destined partner. Yet here she was, her face exposed to the night air.

"Have you given yourself to that Liu Clan trash?" he hissed, stumbling a step closer as though drawn by her presence.

Princess Shan's jaw tightened. She loathed the reek of drink on his breath, the oily sheen in his eyes. "You're the only trash I see," she replied icily. "Drunk, whoring around every night, dabbling in every brothel in the city. You think that's something to be proud of? Now get out of my sight."

Zhen Ping's lip curled in a snarl. Fury danced across his features—he looked ready to strike. But he hesitated, well aware of the Emperor's favor for his half-sister. Instead, he spat at the ground, punching the corridor's stone wall so hard it left a spider web of cracks. Then he turned, storming off into the palace night without another word. I will make him pay, he vowed silently.

Princess Shan watched him go, only long enough to make sure he wasn't about to turn back. Then she continued on, her pale robes fluttering with each purposeful step, until she reached the sanctuary of her private chambers.

Emperor Shang arrived shortly after sunrise, his mood blackened by indignation and the lateness of the hour. He was not accustomed to being summoned; rather, the entire court usually bent to his will. Yet for his daughter, he had little choice.

He found Princess Shan in the midst of packing. A mountain of silken dresses lay strewn across the bed, each more ornate than the last. The room itself was an elegant space—a thick, embroidered carpet covering the marble floor, silk tapestries depicting phoenixes and lotuses on the walls, and a broad window letting in a wash of morning light.

The Emperor's gaze flicked across the chaotic scene of half-folded garments. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Princess Shan didn't so much as glance at him. "Ah, yes. The Emperor graces me with his presence," she said coolly, pausing only to toss another delicate robe onto the pile. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to speak to your father?" he snapped, fists tightening at his sides.

At that, she paused, meeting his glare. "I never called you Father. I never will. You think a few years of ignoring me, then expecting me to play the dutiful daughter, will erase everything you did?" Her eyes narrowed, blazing with anger. "I haven't forgotten how my mother died."

A flicker of pain passed over the Emperor's face. Five years had passed since that dreadful night, yet for Princess Shan, it might as well have been yesterday. "You've already taken your revenge," he muttered, trying to keep his voice calm. "What more do you want from me?"

She snorted, returning to her packing. The details of the past were a festering wound they both knew too well: her mother, once a mere plaything to the Emperor, had been quietly acknowledged only when Princess Shan's shocking Purple Talent emerged. This had threatened the Emperor's first wife, who orchestrated a deadly poisoning. The Emperor returned to discover his second wife on her deathbed and the grief-stricken Princess vowing vengeance. Indeed, Princess Shan had avenged her mother's murder, leaving the Emperor's first wife lying in a pool of blood—and him helpless to contain the scandal. In the end, he buried the story, for fear of losing the gem of his daughter's talent.

Princess Shan let the silence stretch. Finally, the Emperor exhaled and spoke, softer. "Well, we can discuss old grievances later." His voice resumed a hint of authority. "Today I received a letter from the Sacred Sword Kingdom—a marriage proposal. I've agreed on your behalf—"

She turned so swiftly he barely saw her move. The blue glow of an Icy Katana gleamed at his throat. He swallowed hard, not daring to shift. Even at his own formidable cultivation level, he hadn't reacted in time.

"Repeat that," she hissed, her voice like a frigid wind through dead leaves.

He did so, though his eyes darted to the blade pressing ever closer to the tender flesh of his neck. "They promise substantial benefits for our kingdom. It would be best—"

In a flicker of motion, she tore up the letter he'd thrown toward her, bits of parchment drifting down like snow. "I will attend White Lotus Academy," she said, each word clipped and precise. "I will choose my own path and marry whoever I want. Is that clear?"

The Emperor's lips parted in stunned disbelief. "Do you have any idea how much—"

"Leave," Princess Shan interrupted, turning away. The Katana's lethal shimmer vanished in an instant, leaving only a faint chill in the air.

Emperor Shang stood there, blood roaring in his ears, torn between fury and exasperation. But he recognized that look in her eyes—the same one she'd had when she killed his first wife. With a shudder, he spun and stalked from the room, slamming the ornate doors behind him.

When the echoes of his footsteps faded, Princess Shan sank onto the edge of her bed. Her gaze strayed to a small golden necklace resting on a lacquered table—its crystal center was gently pulsing with warmth. She recalled her mother's final words: "When it starts to warm near someone you like, stay with them. That person will change your fate. I didn't listen… and now I can only watch from the other side."

The memory left a hollow ache in Princess Shan's chest. She clenched her fists around one of the silken dresses, tears threatening to form in her eyes. But she pushed them back with a steely inhale.

"I will, Mother," she whispered, pressing her lips together in a vow. "I won't run from destiny like you did. This time… things will be different."