Chapter 12: Traitorous Whirls

Servants blurred past Xiulan’s bedside as night crept across the manor. A physician dabbed something sharp-smelling onto her face while muttering instructions. The pungent herbs made her eyes water, but the pain dulled to a distant throb.

Mei Chen stood guard near the door, wielding a cast iron wok like a shield. The maid’s knuckles whitened against the handle each time footsteps passed outside. Through the haze of herbs and pain, Zhao Lian’s authoritative voice drifted in—directing servants, demanding updates, and coordinating care.

Darkness swallowed the room. Light returned. Xiulan blinked at the beams streaming through paper screens as she pulled herself out of a fitful sleep.

“Miss Xiulan!” Mei Chen rushed forward.

Xiulan pushed herself upright. Fire shot through her cheek at the movement. “How—” The word caught in her throat as agony blazed across her face.

“Please don’t speak. The physician said your face needs time to heal. The cut runs deep and your nose...” She wrung her hands. “It broke when he struck you.”

Damn. Xiulan touched her swollen face. I got cocky. Should have known better than to provoke him without armor or backup. I fucked up.

“Lin Jin.” The words scraped past her lips. “Dead?”

Mei Chen’s face drained of color. “The physicians haven’t left his side since... since...” She swallowed hard. “They say it’s critical. That’s why only one came to check on you briefly.”

A shaky exhale escaped Xiulan. Haaa... If Father’s precious heir dies because of me... She didn’t finish the thought. No amount of justification would save her if Lin Jin didn’t survive. Not with how things were.

Pain radiated through her face as she considered her options. The swelling made speaking difficult, but maybe that could work in her favor. Let them see what their precious heir did to me before I heal it.

“Where are my things?” The words came out slurred and the taste of copper filled her mouth. She wanted to wince, but even that hurt.

Mei Chen scurried to retrieve a lacquered tray. The blood-stained dagger drew Xiulan’s attention first—crimson droplets had dried on the polished wood beneath it. Next to it sat her healing pill, purse, and the stack of documents she’d accumulated.

“Mother’s safe.” Xiulan pointed to the documents. She turned toward the wardrobe in the room's corner. “Servants, dress.”

Mei Chen bowed and hurried out. Servants entered a moment later and helped her put on a fresh dress for the day. Xiulan palmed the healing pill, sliding it into her inner pocket. Not yet. First, let the manor see. They won’t be able to claim I acted unfairly.

Xiulan lifted the bloody dagger.

“Clean.” She handed it to the nearest servant. “Carefully.”

They won’t dare strike me after this, but... Xiulan traced the swelling around her eye. Next time, they might skip the beating and go straight for killing me.

She needed those cultivation materials from the Treasure Pavilion sooner rather than later. The clock was ticking against her survival in this nest of vipers.

Xiulan pointed at her bandaged face. “Remove.”

“Miss Xiulan!” Mei Chen stepped back. “The physician insisted these stay in place for at least—”

“Make it visible.”

Mei Chen wrung her hands but approached with trembling fingers. The bandages peeled away, revealing layers of discolored flesh beneath. Xiulan studied her reflection in the bronze mirror—purple bloomed around her eye socket, and dried blood crusted the edges of the cut splitting her cheek.

“Stop.” Xiulan raised her hand when only a small strip remained. “Good.” The words sent fresh pain lancing through her face. This day needs to end.

Without announcing her destination, Xiulan strode from the courtyard. Mei Chen’s footsteps echoed behind her as they wound through the manor paths toward the northeast gardens.

The morning air carried hints of mountain pine, cypress, and river mist. Below the cliff’s edge, Blackmere city sprawled beneath cloudless blue skies, the mountain river carving its path toward the distant walls.

Xiulan turned toward the manor’s central courtyards. Servants scattered as she passed. Ladies behind painted fans whispered about damaged goods. A merchant’s son loudly proclaimed what a waste it was to mar such beauty. Another suggested she might make a suitable match now that her value had diminished.

The whispers followed her path to Lin Jin’s pavilion. Two guards crossed their spears, blocking her approach.

“Halt! State your business.”

“Brother Jin’s health?”

“Demon!” A servant shrieked from inside. “Get away from here, you evil creature!”

Xiulan bowed with precise formality and retreated. She’d displayed the proper concern for her brother. No one could claim she hadn’t fulfilled her familial duties.

The training yard echoed with clashing steel and barked commands. Xiulan observed the soldiers from behind a screen of ornamental trees. Sweat gleamed on muscled arms as they swung practice swords in precise arcs. The rhythmic movements reminded her of raid formations in Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles .

“Miss Xiulan?” Mei Chen shifted uneasily beside her.

Xiulan turned away from the training grounds and they headed back to the manor’s eastern section. She stopped at her new courtyard.

Inside it was stripped bare like a merchant’s stall after market day. Servants scurried about with cleaning supplies, most wearing her mother’s colors. Empty hooks dotted the walls where paintings once hung. Vacant pedestals marked where pottery and sculptures had stood.

“Perhaps you should rest?” Mei Chen’s words carried a tremor of concern.

“Soon.” Pain shot through Xiulan’s face as she spoke.

Bare wooden floors stretched through empty rooms as she continued her exploration. Lan Yue’s belongings—screens, cushions, tables—had vanished with their owner. The space echoed with possibility, but furnishing it properly would cost taels. New dresses, jewelry, furniture—the costs multiplied in her mind.

Once I open my meridians... Xiulan traced her fingers along a windowsill. The cultivator world that would open to her held treasures worth fortunes to the right buyers. Herbs that grew in beast-infested valleys. Crystals formed in caves. If reality matched the game, she’d be able to use cultivation strength to claim them.

No one in the Lin family would be able to harm her ever again. She’d acquire a host of new problems—cultivators were often hostile and competitive with each other, but…

At least that was something she could take head-on.

After an hour of inspection, Xiulan admitted the courtyard needed significant work before she could move in. She returned to her mother’s residence, where Lan Zhao spotted her swollen face.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Miss Xiulan!” Lan Zhao rushed forward. “You shouldn’t be walking around like this!”

Fresh bandages soon covered her injuries again. She reclined on cushions, fingering the healing pill in her pocket. The decision weighed on her—continue displaying her wounds as evidence, or heal now and regain her strength?

The decision crystallized with surprising speed.

“Bring me tea.” She directed the command to Mei Chen, who scurried off to fetch it.

Steam curled from a ceramic cup as Mei Chen returned. Xiulan loosened her outer robe and extracted the massive pill. The medicinal sphere looked absurd—almost comically large compared to modern medicine from her past life. After a wait to let the liquid cool, she lifted the teacup and tossed the pill back, gulping tea to force it down her throat.

They should have divided this into smaller doses. The pill scraped against her throat despite the tea.

Xiulan recalled the dramatic cultivation scenes from Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles , where heroes swallowed massive glowing orbs of medicine. She almost snorted, but the movement sent pain shooting through her nose.

A tingling sensation spread across her skin, starting at the pit of her stomach and creeping up to her face. The sensation differed from the immediate relief of Qingfeng’s Heaven Grass tea—that had felt like cool water washing away pain. This crawled through her flesh like tiny sparks of electricity.

Mortal medicine versus cultivator remedies. The contrast stood out sharply. Even basic cultivation items outperformed the finest normal treatments.

There wasn’t much left to do for the day except rest and heal.

Zhao Lian swept into the room multiple times, wringing her hands and fussing over the bandages before rushing out again—too distraught to speak more than a few broken sentences.

Xiulan reclined on her cushions until afternoon sun cast long shadows through the courtyard. The medicine left her mind hazy and unable to calculate.

Lan Zhao and Mei Chen maintained a constant vigil, hovering nearby with anxious energy. Through the open doorway, several female servants patrolled with wooden clubs poorly concealed in their sleeves. The sight of makeshift weapons sent a pang through Xiulan’s chest.

All this chaos because of one fight. She traced the edge of her bandage. No—because of one attempted murder. The distinction mattered. Lin Jin had tried to kill her first. She’d merely survived.

Still, watching the nervous energy rippling through her mother’s household staff twisted something inside her. These women risked themselves to protect her, arming themselves against potential retaliation.

Their loyalty deserved better than to be tested so severely.

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Dawn broke with Mei Chen’s urgent whispers. “Miss Xiulan, Lord Lin has returned to the manor.”

Xiulan pushed herself upright, pleasantly surprised when the movement caused only mild discomfort. “Thank you, Mei Chen.” The words flowed easily, without the stabbing pain of yesterday.

A bronze mirror reflected a much-improved visage. The gash that had gaped angry and raw was now pink with healing flesh knitting the edges together. Stitches were removed with an easy snip. The purple-black bruising had faded to yellowish-green, as if weeks had passed instead of hours.

Perfect timing. She adjusted the bandages to ensure the injuries remained visible while touching the mostly healed flesh beneath. Jin Wei’s medicine had worked exactly as she needed—enough recovery to function, but leaving sufficient evidence of Lin Jin’s attack.

Should I wait for a summons or take initiative?

Xiulan weighed her options. Presenting herself at the main pavilion would allow her to gauge the reactions to the situation firsthand.

Simple choice, then. “Mei Chen, bring out the jade silk dress Sister Suyin lent me.”

Mei Chen rushed to retrieve the garment, handling the delicate fabric with reverent care. The dress whispered against Xiulan’s skin as Mei Chen secured each fastening with practiced precision.

“Miss Xiulan, shall I fetch the rouge and powder?”

“No.” Xiulan traced the visible bruising along her jaw. “Let them see exactly what Lin Jin did.”

The weight of her concealed dagger pressed reassuringly against her forearm as she adjusted its position. Everyone likely knew about it after yesterday, but its presence steadied her nerves.

Lan Zhao appeared, and Xiulan waved at her. “Send word to Mother that I’m heading to the central pavilion.”

Everything taken care of, Xiulan strode through the manor grounds with Mei Chen at her heels.

Servants scattered at their approach, ducking into doorways or suddenly finding urgent tasks in opposite directions. Even the minor officials they passed averted their eyes, their conversations dying mid-sentence.

The central pavilion loomed ahead, its entrance flanked by stern-faced guards. As Xiulan approached, one stepped forward with an outstretched hand.

“Halt! Lord Lin is conducting an inquiry. No one may enter.”

“What sort of inquiry?” Xiulan asked.

“A questioning, Miss Lin. That’s all I’m permitted to say.”

Xiulan narrowed her eyes at the guard. A questioning without her presence would only serve those who wished to twist the narrative. Unacceptable.

“Thank you for your diligence.” She bowed slightly to the guard and walked away, scanning the perimeter wall of the central pavilion. The morning sun cast long shadows across the courtyard walls, perfect cover for what she planned next.

“Miss? Miss, where are we going?” Mei Chen’s footsteps pattered behind her.

A promising spot emerged where the main pavilion’s wall intersected with Lord Tian’s courtyard. The stone surface offered enough handholds, and a decorative boulder provided the boost she needed. Xiulan turned to face her confused maid.

“Wait here, Mei Chen. This isn’t something you should be involved in.”

“Involved in what?” Mei Chen’s eyes darted between Xiulan and the wall. “Miss, you’re not going to—”

Xiulan planted her foot on the boulder, testing its stability. The jade silk dress restricted her movement, but she managed.

“Miss! Miss, please!” Mei Chen bounced anxiously.

The wall’s rough surface scraped against Xiulan’s palms as she pulled herself up. At the top, she balanced precariously and looked down at her fretting friend. “Gather everyone from Mother’s courtyard—any witnesses you can find. Bring them to the Central Pavilion’s entrance.”

Not waiting for a response, Xiulan swung her legs over and dropped to the other side, bending her knees to absorb the impact.

It was a narrow space, the walkway between the pavilion building and the perimeter wall. In both directions, the coast was clear, but that could change in an instant.

She brushed the dust from her robes. It wasn’t possible to completely erase the smudges from the wall climb, though. No matter. The dress serves its purpose either way.

She slipped through an unguarded side entrance, emerging into a hallway lined with startled servants. Their wide eyes tracked her progress, but none dared intervene as she strode past with purposeful steps. The sound of voices grew louder as she approached the main hall.

Lord Lin and Madam Zhang sat elevated on the county thrones, presiding over a line of witnesses that stretched toward the entrance. Xiulan melted into the crowd, positioning herself behind several taller attendants.

“Tell us again what you witnessed,” Madam Zhang demanded from her perch.

A servant bowed low. “I saw Miss Lin accost Young Master Jin on the garden path. She blocked his way deliberately.”

“She struck first,” another added quickly. “Drew her blade before Young Master Jin could defend himself.”

“The look in her eyes...” A kitchen maid shuddered. “She laughed while stabbing him. Boasted that he deserved worse.”

“We had to drag her away.” The groundskeeper wrung his hands. “She screamed that he should die, that she wouldn’t stop until—”

With each fabrication, Lord Lin’s face darkened further. His knuckles whitened against the throne’s armrests.

The crowd thinned as witness after witness stepped forward with their practiced lies. Xiulan clenched her jaw, counting breaths until only three people remained between her and the throne.

Madam Zhang’s satisfied expression shattered as she spotted Xiulan in the dwindling crowd. “What are YOU doing here!?”

Xiulan stepped past the remaining witnesses, a wry smile playing across her lips. “I heard that such outrageous lies were being spewed this morning. I simply had to hear them for myself.”