THE REAL PROTEGE-Chapter 513: THE NAMING

Shinsei’s Entrance

Shinsei, as Pharsa’s adoptive father and an elder of the Clan, entered with quiet dignity, his robes flowing like river currents, each step measured, each movement imbued with the weight of generations. His eyes, deep and knowing, carried the wisdom of countless battles and blessings. The hall fell into reverent silence, and even the restless children stilled, sensing the gravity of the moment.

Pharsa, pale from her recent ordeal yet radiant with pride, straightened in her seat. Her lips trembled, her eyes glistening as she gazed at her father. Beside her, Chatty puffed up like a peacock, his chest swelling with pride, trembling with excitement. Cannonball squawked on his shoulder, as if heralding the arrival of destiny itself.

The Naming

Shinsei bent over the cradle, his gaze lingering on each child swaddled in silk. His voice, calm and resonant, carried through the hall like a sacred chant, weaving love and foresight into every syllable.

Shinsei touched the eldest’s brow, his fingers steady, his eyes sharp.

“This first child shall be named Jian, meaning sword. He will grow sharp and clear, cutting through falsehoods with truth. His path will be one of clarity and justice.”

A murmur rippled through the hall, elders nodding solemnly, warriors straightening their backs as if already honoring the boy’s future strength.

Shinsei’s hand lingered on the middle child, his touch tender, his gaze softened.

“The second one shall be named Hao, meaning Goddness. His heart will be pure, his spirit guided by compassion. He will be the light in times of darkness.”

Tears welled in Pharsa’s eyes, her lips quivering as she whispered, “My gentle son...” The women of the Clan pressed hands to their hearts, moved by the promise of kindness in a world so often cruel.

Shinsei smiled at the youngest, whose tiny fist clenched defiantly, as if already challenging fate.

“The third son shall be named Long, meaning Dragon. He will carry resilience, rising above trials with unyielding fire. A dragon’s spirit lives within him.”

The hall erupted in gasps of awe. Even Mushu’s stoic mask cracked, his eyes narrowing with respect. The name carried weight, a legacy of power and endurance.

Chatty’s Peacock Pride

Chatty was unstoppable. He strutted through the hall, chest puffed, voice booming above the music.

Chatty, deeming triumphant, “Jian, Hao, Long! My boys! Warriors, saints, and dragons! The heavens themselves will tremble at their names!”

Cannonball flapped his wings wildly, squawking in agreement, as if blessing the newborns himself. The crowd laughed, some covering their ears, others clapping him on the back.

Pharsa, exhausted but radiant, leaned against her chair, her lips trembling with gratitude as she watched her husband’s antics. She whispered to Shinsei, “He will never stop boasting, Father. But tonight, I don’t mind.”

Chatty’s best friends, Four Eyes and Fatty, followed close behind.

Four Eyes smirked faintly, though his eyes softened at Pharsa’s tears. He muttered dryly, “If pride were a weapon, Chatty would conquer the world tonight.”

Fatty smirked faintly, though his eyes softened at the sight of Pharsa’s tears. Fatty wiped his cheeks discreetly, muttering, “Damn dust in the air...” before laughing and clapping Chatty on the back.

Together, the trio moved like a storm of laughter and pride, their bond unshaken even in the chaos.

Rockie and Goldie exchanged grins, their hearts swelling with pride for the Clan’s future. Shun and Ren, standing tall, bowed deeply to Shinsei, acknowledging the weight of his words.

The hall vibrated with emotion — applause, tears, laughter, and pride weaving together into a tapestry of love and legacy. The newborns stirred in their cradle, tiny fists waving as if already embracing their names.

Shinsei stood tall, his eyes shimmering with quiet satisfaction. His voice, though soft, carried across the hall:

“These boys are not only your sons, Pharsa. They are the Clan’s future. Guard them well.”

The Clan roared in agreement, their voices echoing against the walls of Peonies Castle. Ling Li’s mischievous twins squealed with laughter. Lily’s gentle touch calmed them, Mushu and Sisu exchanged silent glances, and Chatty strutted like a proud peacock beside his best friends.

Mushu and Sisu’s Quiet Watch

At the edge of the hall, Mushu stood tall, his stoic mask intact but his eyes softer than usual. He watched the celebration with quiet pride, his gaze lingering on Sisu.

Sisu, cheeks flushed, clutched his cup tightly, his heart torn between joy for the Clan and the storm inside him. He smiled faintly at the newborns, whispering under his breath, “May they never know torment, only love.” Mushu’s sharp eyes caught the whisper, but he said nothing — only placed a steady hand on Sisu’s shoulder, a silent gesture of support.

Lily’s Gentle Touch

Lily moved gracefully among the guests, her laughter light as she played with the mischievous twins. She scooped Kim Kim into her arms, tickling him until he squealed, while Chin Chin clung to her skirt, giggling uncontrollably. Her warmth softened the hall’s grandeur, weaving tenderness into the tapestry of celebration.

Ling Li’s Triplets

Ling Li’s little triplets were the darlings of the evening. Guests bent low to pinch their cheeks, cooing at their wide eyes and tiny fists. The babies gurgled and waved, their innocence dissolving the shadows of war. Ling Li’s proud smile never faltered, though her eyes glimmered with the weight of responsibility — three daughters to raise in a world of shifting power.

And in that moment, Peonies Castle was not just a place of celebration — it was alive, a forge of destiny, shaping futures with names, laughter, music, and feasts that would one day shake the heavens, beginning in silence.

The last lantern in Peonies Castle had barely dimmed when the first fracture appeared.

Only hours earlier, fireworks lit the sky, laughter filled the corridors, and the atmosphere was one of carefully orchestrated celebration. The evening was marked by triumph and deliberate enjoyment.

But celebrations are fragile things.

They dissolve at the first vibration of reality.

Alarming Urgencies

At 2:17 a.m., in the hush that follows excess, Four Eyes’ phone lit up on the bedside table. The screen flashed once, twice — then pulsed insistently.

He was awake before the second vibration.

Years of leadership had instilled in him a sense of vigilance. Even at rest, he remained alert. Memories of past crises, such as the factory fire from his youth, reinforced his sense of responsibility and the weight of leadership—the fear of failing those who relied on him and losing what his family built kept him awake.

He reached for the device without sitting up, eyes already sharpening before the message fully loaded.

URGENT: Xu Global AI Core — Major Data Breach Detected. Possible external infiltration. Internal architecture exposed.

For a heartbeat, there was no reaction.

Then his fingers tightened.

Across the city skyline, the last traces of fireworks faded. The celebration had ended.