Just below them, occupying the tables of supreme honor, was the Lin family.

However, the family had been strategically divided by Imperial protocol.

General Lin Tianzong and the Vanguard Commander, Lin Feng, the heroes of the hour, were seated at the primary table directly beneath the Emperor’s gaze, surrounded by high-ranking military officials and ministers eager to pour their wine.

Lin Ji’an had been placed at a secondary table alongside her little brother, Lin Xuan.

Their three half-sisters were seated further down the hall with the other unmarried noble daughters, giggling behind their silk fans and enjoying the spectacle.

It was an arrangement designed for comfort and prestige.

And yet, sitting amidst the overwhelming wealth, the clinking of jade goblets, and the roaring laughter of the victorious generals, Lin Ji’an had never felt so isolated before.

She poked listlessly at a perfectly seared piece of Silver-Scaled Spirit-Trout on her golden plate with her ivory chopsticks.

The fish was cooked flawlessly, and the glaze was a masterclass in balance. But to Ji’an, it tasted like ash.

"Third Brother, are you not going to eat?" Lin Xuan asked, his mouth full of roasted pheasant. The thirteen-year-old was having the time of his life, completely insulated from the political machinations of the room by his brother’s protective shadow. "The food here is almost as good as yours! Well, not the broth, obviously, but the meat is very tender!"

"Eat your vegetables, Xuan," Ji’an murmured automatically, her eyes staring blankly at the reflection of the floating lanterns in her wine cup.

She rested her chin on her hand, a deep, hollow ache expanding in her chest.

She missed the mountain. She missed the soot-stained, chaotic kitchen of the Drunken Peak. She missed the sound of Master Jiu Zui snoring in his hammock.

But more than anything else, with a painful intensity that actively surprised her... she missed Xie Wangchen.

The realization sat heavily in her stomach.

She was surrounded by thousands of people and became the center of attention, the mysterious, beautiful Inner Sect Elder that every noble in the room was desperately trying to steal a glance at.

But none of it mattered, because the one person whose presence actually anchored her to this chaotic world was locked in a freezing cave hundreds of miles away.

’I miss my Little Puddle,’ Ji’an thought, a bitter, melancholy sigh escaping her lips. ’I miss the cold. I miss the quiet. I miss pouring him tea and watching him pretend not to care about the pastry I saved for him.’

Whenever she was overwhelmed by the plot, whenever the terrifying reality of transmigrating into a lethal web novel threatened to crush her, Wangchen had been there.

Even when he was acting like a terrifying yandere, his beautiful, bottomless eyes had offered a strange, undeniable focus.

When she looked at him, the rest of the world faded into background noise.

Without him sitting across from her, projecting that quiet, suffocating, yet incredibly safe aura, Ji’an felt entirely unmoored.

The calculated smiles of the nobles felt like sharpened knives, there laughter sounded hollow.

She wanted to go home.

And she was realizing, with terrifying clarity, that "home" was no longer a place to her. It was a person.

"You look as though you are attending a funeral, Royal Uncle, rather than a celebration of your bloodline."

The smooth, melodic, and entirely unwelcome whisper slid directly into her ear, smelling of dark lotus and impending trouble.

Ji’an didn’t flinch. She simply closed her eyes, praying for the patience not to snap her ivory chopsticks in half.

Xiao Yichen slid gracefully into the empty cushion beside her, dismissing the terrified palace servant who had been waiting to pour Ji’an’s wine with a single flick of his folding fan.

The Imperial Second Prince looked breathtaking.

He wore formal court robes of midnight blue silk, embroidered with silver dragons that seemed to writhe in the lantern light.

His dark hair was crowned with a priceless sapphire coronet.

He was the picture of royal perfection, completely devoid of the blood and madness of the subterranean dungeon.

"Your Highness," Ji’an replied, her voice flat, not bothering to turn her head to look at him. "Shouldn’t you be sitting on the dais with your father, pretending to care about the state of the empire?"

Yichen chuckled, a low, vibrating sound.

He leaned closer, resting his elbow on her table, completely invading her personal space.

"I find the view from here to be far more... captivating," Yichen purred. His dark eyes swept over her pristine white sect robes, lingering on the elegant curve of her neck.

But he wasn’t just here to flirt; he also had a tactical objective.

"Look around you, Royal Uncle," Yichen whispered, nodding subtly toward the surrounding tables.

Ji’an reluctantly shifted her gaze.

Hovering at the edges of her peripheral vision, like vultures circling a wounded deer, were dozens of young, aristocratic men.

Among them were the First Prince, the Fourth Prince, and the heirs of several major Ducal houses.

The Grand Banquet Hall of the Imperial Palace was designed to make mortal men feel infinitesimally small.

The vaulted ceiling, held aloft by towering pillars of petrified gold-wood, was enchanted to mimic the night sky, complete with shifting constellations of crushed diamonds.

Thousands of floating spirit-lanterns cast a warm, opulent glow over the sprawling sea of low, intricately carved mahogany tables.

The air was thick with the scent of roasted hundred-year spirit-beasts, rare incense, and the suffocating, heavy perfume of absolute political power.

At the very front of the hall, elevated on a multi-tiered dais of pure white jade, sat the Emperor and his most favored consorts.

They were all staring at her, holding their wine cups, clearly trying to muster the courage to approach her table.

"They smell blood," Yichen explained smoothly, his voice laced with venomous amusement. "You are the unattached, highly influential Martial Uncle of the Celestial Sword Sect. You hold the Emperor’s favor, of course your’re a valuable asset they can use if given the opportunity."