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Chapter 10 - Chapter 10: The Shadow of a Replacement

The morning after the trade alliance banquet at Furong Garden, the rear courtyard of the Wei residence was filled with the scent of fresh ink and record scrolls. Inside a room adorned in soft ivory tones, Lin Xi sat cross-legged before a long desk, meticulously writing down lists of items already packed into the logistics wagons.

Her hands moved swiftly, yet her heart felt hollow. She recorded number after number, as if each stroke of the brush could quiet the turmoil in her head. The new trade route to the southwest was indeed promising, but what was the point of it all if every step she took had to be under someone else's name?

A soft knock echoed at the door. Before she could answer, it creaked open gently.

Lin Shuyin stepped in, carrying a silver tray with a steaming cup of greenish liquid.

Lin Xi didn’t turn. She recognized the scent instantly—Qingmu San, the concoction that forced her mismatched eyes to appear the same. A tonic that burned away her identity with every sip.

“It’s time,” Lin Shuyin said softly, placing the cup among the stacks of paper.

Lin Xi let out a quiet sigh, picked up the cup, and drank it all in one swift motion. Not out of obedience, but to avoid prolonging the conversation.

Silence filled the room again, broken only by the sound of her brush gliding over parchment. But Lin Shuyin didn’t leave.

“I know you don’t like me,” she said, voice barely audible but sharp. “And I don’t know how to be a good mother... not to you, and not even to Lianhua.”

Lin Xi paused. Her brush hovered mid-air.

“I sent you away when you could barely walk... because I was afraid. Afraid people would know I gave birth to twins. Afraid of losing everything. And when Lianhua was gone, I searched for you again... not for you, but to reclaim what was once your sister’s. She was falsely accused, despite all she did for this family. I was powerless. You were my only hope.”

Lin Shuyin lowered her gaze. Her fingers curled into fists atop her pale blue silk robe. “It must feel like I’m sacrificing you. Sending you into the tiger’s den. I’m selfish. I know.”

Lin Xi slowly set down her brush. Her eyes locked on the empty cup, now a silent symbol of a denied life.

“You wanted Lianhua, not me,” she said coldly, her voice quiet but piercing. “And you thought I could become her.”

“I—”

“But I am not her!” Lin Xi’s voice suddenly rose. The dam of emotion broke, flooding out like a storm.

“I don’t want to smile politely at greedy nobles. I don’t care for fragrant tea, silk brocade, or elegant dances at banquets. I refuse to be a pretty ornament in some corner of a room!” Her eyes gleamed, not just with anger, but with wounds that never healed.

“Every day I wake up wearing a dead girl’s clothes. Mimicking her voice, her gestures. Even my eyes—my eyes have to be changed to match hers, just so you—no, all of you—can keep pretending she’s still alive!” Her voice cracked, raw with grief barely restrained.

Lin Shuyin was silent. She could neither defend herself nor offer comfort. All she could do was stand there and witness the consequences of her choices.

The silence that followed was heavier than before.

After a long pause, Lin Xi took a deep breath. Her voice was calmer now, but sharper than ever. “I’ll finish this. I’ll expose every rotten lie that killed Lianhua. Then I’ll leave. But never—never—expect me to become her.”

She stood, picked up the logistics scroll, and walked out—leaving Lin Shuyin frozen in place, tears suspended at the corners of her eyes.

Outside, the autumn wind brushed Lin Xi’s face—cold, yet refreshing. She looked up at the sky. Today, she drank lies not to keep the act alive... but to destroy it from within.

The night was bitter. Sea winds blew with a salty sting. At the coastal edge of the city, where tall bamboo trees stood like silent sentinels guarding the world’s secrets, Lin Xi stood alone, her breath ragged, her eyes red.

She had waited for the night to fall completely, sneaking out through the side gate of the pavilion without torchlight. She could no longer bear that perfumed room filled with fake flowers and hollow pleasantries.

Without a word, she drew her sword. Its steel gleamed coldly under the moonlight. And then—she slashed.

One stalk of bamboo fell.

Then another. Two. Three. Four.

Her body spun, leaped, attacked—each movement like a furious dance. The towering bamboo became the twisted, false faces from that banquet. They were her enemies tonight—illusions to cut down, destroy, and erase.

“Lianhua...” she whispered, breath catching in her throat. “I don’t even know who I am anymore... even myself feels like a stranger...”

The rustling bamboo leaves sounded like whispers of ghosts from the past. And then—the flashback struck. Too fast. Too sharp.

Years ago, on a cold, dark night...

She had been sixteen. The howls of wild dogs had faded, replaced by the sound of footsteps—dozens of men dressed in black, emerging from the shadows like demons. Silver masks hid their faces. Hatred burned in their eyes.

They set the cottage ablaze without hesitation.

Han Jue had dragged Lin Xi behind the house, shoving her into an old well with barely any water left.

“Don’t make a sound. No matter what happens, don’t come out,” Han Jue said firmly, covering her mouth to stifle her cry.

“If I don’t survive... check under my bed. There’s something for you.”

Lin Xi bit the edge of her sleeve, tears streaming down as she watched the flames devour their home. The screams, the clashing steel, the blood—all felt like a living nightmare.

When it finally ended and the smoke cleared, she climbed out, trembling—not from the cold, but from horror.

Han Jue lay slumped against a post, his breath faint, blood soaking his chest and stomach. She rushed to him, knees sinking into dirt and blood.

“I failed...” his voice was weak, but his gaze steady. “I promised... to protect you. But this world... it’s too cruel, even for a father’s vow.”

Lin Xi gripped his hand tightly, trying not to sob.

“Don’t waste time here...” he gave a pained smile. “Shancheng... The Gu Clan...” His voice faded, swallowed by the silent night.

She hadn’t slept at all that night. With shaking hands, she opened the iron box under Han Jue’s bed.

Inside was just one item—a folded letter in delicate handwriting she vaguely remembered: Lin Shuyin.

Forgive me, daughter...

This world is too twisted to accept two blossoms from one stem.

But your time has come.

Return.

The Wei Manor awaits.

Jingzhao longs for your arrival.

Back in the bamboo grove, Lin Xi collapsed by a tree, panting heavily. Her sword still in hand, her fingers trembling.

The tears she held back finally fell, along with her body onto the grass—not out of weakness, but from the pain of a truth that refused to be forgotten.

All because of a myth—that twins bring misfortune—her life was never truly hers.

She looked up at the sky, as if to defy fate itself. But in the end, she only closed her eyes and whispered, “I will carry on, Master... I will have revenge. The blood spilled that night—I will repay it a hundredfold. I swear it.”

The sea wind howled, carrying ghostly echoes from the past. But this time, Lin Xi heard them not with fear—

—but with resolve.

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