Practically throwing herself out of the carriage to escape the suffocating gravity of his presence.

The main courtyard of the Lin Estate was quiet, a stark contrast to the roaring frenzy of the Imperial Palace.

The torches burned low, casting long, flickering shadows across the sweeping marble steps.

General Lin Tianzong was already waiting for them, having arrived a few minutes prior in the faster, lighter family carriage.

As Ji’an’s boots hit the ground, she swayed slightly.

The adrenaline crash was absolute.

The overwhelming mental exhaustion of processing her own existence had drained the color entirely from her face, leaving her a sickly, translucent shade of pale beneath the moonlight.

General Lin’s sharp, martial eyes caught the sway instantly.

The War God descended the marble steps in two massive strides.

He completely ignored the rigid, formal military protocols expected when greeting the Vanguard Commander.

He bypassed Lin Feng entirely and stepped directly in front of Ji’an.

"Ji’an," General Lin rumbled, his deep voice thick with immediate, paternal alarm.

He raised his large, calloused hand, pressing the back of his leather gauntlet against her forehead, checking her temperature with the practiced ease of a battlefield medic.

"You are pale as snow, child," the General murmured, his silver-flecked eyes narrowing with concern as he felt the faint, chaotic tremor of Qi vibrating beneath her skin. "Your meridians are agitated. Did something happen? Has someone at the banquet insulted you? Was it the Second Prince? Give me the word, and I will march my personal guard into his courtyard before dawn."

Ji’an blinked up at her father, a weak, genuinely exhausted smile touching the corners of her lips.

The sheer absurdity of the supreme commander of the imperial army offering to commit high treason over a perceived slight warmed her frozen heart.

"No, Father," Ji’an whispered, her voice hoarse. "The Prince was... remarkably restrained. I am just tired. The sword dance... it took more out of my spiritual sea than I anticipated."

It was a lie, but a plausible one.

"She is fine, Father," Lin Feng’s smooth, deep baritone interjected, stepping up beside them. The Vanguard Commander’s presence was a towering, immovable pillar in the courtyard.

"The emotions of the performance merely overwhelmed her. I ensured she was not bothered on the ride back; she requires only rest."

General Lin looked at his eldest son, a flicker of something unreadable passing between the two men.

The General nodded slowly, his hand dropping from Ji’an’s forehead to rest heavily, comfortingly on her shoulder.

"Very well," the General sighed, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Go to your quarters, Ji’an. The maids have drawn a hot bath, and I ordered the kitchens to leave a tray of restorative herbs on your table. Sleep until you cannot sleep anymore. Everything will be alright."

"Thank you, Dad," Ji’an murmured, desperately craving the solitude of her own room.

She offered a polite, exhausted bow to her father, and then, with significantly more rigidity, a formal bow to her eldest brother.

"Goodnight, Big Brother," Ji’an said, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the collar of his armor.

"Goodnight, little bird," Lin Feng replied softly.

His voice carried that same intimate weight it had possessed in the pavilion. "We will speak more on the morrow. Sleep well. You are safe now."

Ji’an didn’t wait for a dismissal.

She turned on her heel and practically fled across the courtyard, her white sect robes billowing behind her as she vanished into the winding, shadow-draped corridors leading to her personal courtyard.

She didn’t stop walking until she reached the doors of her quarters.

She shoved them open, stepped inside, and slammed them shut with enough force to rattle the hinges, immediately throwing the heavy iron locking bar into place.

She leaned her back against the door, slowly sliding down the smooth wood until she hit the floor.

The silence of the room wrapped around her, absolute and unbroken.

Ji’an brought her knees to her chest, burying her face in her arms.

She didn’t cry because she was too exhausted to do so.

She just sat there in the dark, her mind a whirling vortex of unanswered questions and existential dread.

’What price did he pay?’

The question refused to leave her.

It gnawed at the edges of her sanity. If Lin Feng had truly sacrificed something catastrophic to save her, the debt she owed him was incalculable.

In his mind, he had bought and paid for her soul.

She was the investment he had bled for, returning to him against all odds.

’I have to know,’ Ji’an resolved, lifting her head from her arms, her dark eyes hardening with a fierce, stubborn determination.

’I can’t live with this debt hanging over my head. I can’t be bound by a debt I don’t understand.’

But she couldn’t ask Lin Feng.

He would never tell her the truth.

He would deflect, or worse, use the knowledge to further bind her to him.

And she couldn’t ask her father; if General Lin had known about the soul-displacement array, he would never have allowed his eldest son to undergo such a taboo ritual.

There was only one person in her life who possessed the cosmic knowledge, the profound cultivation base, and the complete lack of moral boundaries required to understand a forbidden Grand Oracle array.

’Master Jiu Zui,’ Ji’an thought, the image of the drunken, purple-robed Sovereign flashing in her mind.

’He is a Second Generation monster, and he knows the ancient secrets of the realm. Alright. That’s it! The moment the Sect Martial Ranking allows me to return to the mountain, I am going to brew him the strongest, most liver-destroying batch of fermented spirit-wine in existence, and I am going to interrogate him until he spills everything he knows about soul displacement!’

The resolution offered a tiny sliver of control in a situation where she had absolutely none.

Ji’an slowly pushed herself up from the floor.

It wasn’t a proper time to grovel just because things didn’t go in the direction she wanted; she needed to endure.