"Argh! Yes! Good Meat!" Ji’an grunted in a deep, exaggerated, thuggish voice, trying to destroy the ’gentle young master’ illusion. "I love killing things! Blood! Violence!"

The three sisters stared at her, horrified by the sudden, grotesque shift in table manners.

Sitting directly across from Ji’an, Lin Xuan suddenly whimpered.

The thirteen-year-old boy, who had been quietly and desperately trying to enjoy his chicken broth, flinched violently backward.

He remembered the last time his sibling had drastically shifted their personality.

He remembered the sultry whispers, the crimson blindfold, the straddling, and the heavy cast-iron spatula coming down on Blood-Hand Tu’s skull.

The severe psychological trauma of the dungeon raid flared up with catastrophic intensity.

"No tricks!" Xuan shrieked, slamming his hands over his nose to preemptively stop the bleeding, terror written all over his face. "Please, Third Brother! No more bed tricks! I can’t watch it again!"

The entire dining hall went dead silent.

The three sisters froze, their eyes widening to the size of saucers.

They looked at Xuan, then slowly turned their horrified gazes toward Ji’an.

’Bed tricks?!’ the collective thought echoed in the room.

Ji’an froze with a piece of crab shell hanging out of her mouth.

She slowly turned her head, glaring at Xuan with a murderous aura that made Xiao Yichen look like an amateur.

"Xuan," Ji’an whispered, her voice dropping to a terrifying absolute zero. "I told you. We do not speak of the tricks."

General Lin Tianzong buried his face in his calloused hands.

He was the supreme commander of a million men. He had orchestrated campaigns that spanned continents.

He had faced down Demon Kings and negotiated with rogue immortals.

But sitting at this dining table, surrounded by the absolute chaos of his own offspring, he felt entirely, hopelessly outmatched.

"Enough," General Lin sighed, his voice muffled by his hands.

He slowly lowered his hands, looking up at the vaulted ceiling as if praying to the ancestors for strength.

The atmosphere in the room shifted.

The comedic, chaotic energy evaporated, replaced by a sudden, heavy wave of genuine, paternal melancholy.

"I look at this table," the General said softly, his silver-flecked eyes sweeping over the children.

He looked at the empty, high-backed chair situated directly to his right, opposite Ji’an.

"And I realize how deeply I wish this family were whole," General Lin murmured, a profound sadness touching the edges of his rugged features. "It has been so long since there has been laughter heard in these halls."

He looked at Ji’an, offering a soft, weary smile.

"I am really glad you are home, Ji’an. But looking at you all... I cannot help but sigh. How good it would have been if your eldest brother were also present today. He has been stationed at the Northern Barrens for over two years. He has not seen Xuan grow, nor does he know the warrior you have become."

At the mention of the eldest brother, the tension in the room vanished.

Even the flustered sisters lowered their eyes, a genuine sense of familial longing replacing their earlier theatrics.

Lin Ji’an chewed the crab meat, her expression softening.

In the original host’s memories, Lin Feng, the eldest son and the Vanguard Commander of the Azure Empire, was a mythical figure.

He was ten years older than Ji’an. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Unlike the cruel second brother, Feng had always been protective, upright, and fiercely loyal to the family.

He was the golden child, a brilliant tactician and a devastatingly powerful spearman.

But duty had pulled him away to the frozen borders long before Ji’an’s life had spiraled into the chaos of the orthodox sects.

"He’ll come back, Dad," Ji’an said warmly, reaching across the table to pour her father another cup of tea. "He’s the Vanguard Commander after all. The barbarians don’t stand a chance against a Lin. He’ll clear the borders and come home, and I’ll make sure to cook a feast big enough to feed his entire battalion."

General Lin smiled, accepting the tea. "That is a promise I will hold you to, Head Chef."

Ji’an leaned back in her chair, a deep, comfortable contentment settling into her bones.

’This is nice,’ Ji’an thought, looking around the opulent, quiet dining hall. ’This is exactly what I needed. No princes trying to pin me to walls, no yandere ice demons having psychological breakdowns. Just me, my family, and a few weeks of unbothered peace.’

She began to mentally draft her itinerary for the next month.

’Tomorrow, I’m sleeping until noon. Then, I’m going to take a long walk through the capital markets and buy every single rare spice I can find using the fifty million spirit stones I bought from my Master and the allowance Dad gave me. The day after that, I’m cashing in my father’s promise and taking a leisurely hunting trip into the Imperial reserves. I am going to the forage, cook, and rest. I am completely removed from the plot.’

It was a beautiful, flawless, incredibly naive plan.

Because in the universe of a Xianxia web novel, whenever the protagonist attempts to enjoy a moment of unbothered peace, the heavens themselves intervene to ensure their maximum suffering.

Before Ji’an could even pick up another dumpling, the heavy oak doors of the grand dining hall were thrown open with an echoing crash.

A breathless, heavily armored Imperial Palace Guard sprinted into the room, entirely ignoring military protocol.

He fell to one knee, driving his fist into the polished floor, his head bowed.

"General Lin! Please forgive the intrusion!" the guard shouted, his chest heaving. "An Imperial Envoy approaches the estate! They are bearing an Imperial Edict from His Majesty the Emperor!"

General Lin stood up instantly, the relaxed father vanishing, completely replaced by the supreme commander. "An Imperial Edict? At this hour? Prepare the courtyard. We will go to receive them immediately."

Ji’an groaned, dropping her chopsticks. "You have got to be kidding me. I haven’t even finished my crab!"

"Stand up, Ji’an. Fix your robes," General Lin ordered, adjusting his own tunic.