THE REAL PROTEGE

"Nina was clinically dormant," Ling Li replied with casual chill. "You know how many people I've seen on that edge? I didn't think she'd wake up. I had other battles to fight."

El Capitan looked away with a grunt. El Padre raised an eyebrow, but remained still. Lily bit her lip, clearly unsure whether to speak.

Shi Min held his mother's gaze. "You do realize the trauma that one moment caused everyone today? You could've prevented all of it."

Ling Li finally set the teacup down, eyes narrowing faintly.

"I wasn't expecting a resurrection and an ambush," Ling Li said. "But had I told you, what would you have done? Wasted workforce watching a corpse? Or worse, alerted the people behind her. I put a tracker on her, but I completely forgot about her, to be honest."

Shi Min opened his mouth to protest — and hesitated.

Ling Li's tone softened, but only slightly. "I've lived my entire life choosing the lesser price between truths that cost me everything. This time… maybe I miscalculated. I'm sorry."

Shi Min stared at his mother, a mix of frustration, admiration, and that helplessness reserved only for children who realized their mother would never stop being one step ahead… even when she was wrong.

"...."

'Yeah, even when she is wrong,' Shi Min shook his head, breath catching with something just shy of laughter.

"You drive me insane," he muttered.

Ling Li smiled a little. "It keeps you sharp."

The silence in the parlor was thick, the air still ringing faintly from the heated discussion between mother and son. But now, that tension had softened, cut by exhaustion, swallowed by the remnants of relief still lingering on everyone's shoulders.

Shi Min leaned against the marble column near the center of the room, arms crossed over his chest. He gave the ornate wall clock a brief glance and exhaled, shaking his head with a breath of dry humor.

"It's only three in the afternoon," he said, tapping the dial on his watch twice. "The twins' birthday celebration was supposed to start at seven, remember? We still have time to salvage today. Why don't we push through with it — end this day right?"

Everyone looked up. Even the chandelier seemed to pause its subtle sway, as if unsure whether to believe joy could find a place again today.

Pharsa was the first to nod, her elegant posture relaxing as she rose from the settee with a small smile. "I agree. We still have time to inform the guests. I'll take care of the logistics."

Just then, a rustle of movement snapped their attention back—El Padre, stretching his shoulders like a man preparing to recite war history, cleared his throat. "And the wedding?" he offered grandly, raising one thick brow. "We can conduct a proper Chinese ritual. Nothing too elaborate. We keep it clean, simple, and sacred. I'll preside."

The statement hadn't even landed before El Capitan scoffed so hard his arms practically flew off the back of the armchair. "Excuse me?" he barked, leaning forward like a wronged general. "Why would you preside? Let me do it!"

"You?" El Padre growled, shooting him a look of incredulous offense. "You can't even recite the tea blessing without mixing up the incantation! I was trained by Master Guo personally!"

El Capitan narrowed his eyes. "You say that like the man didn't fall asleep halfway through your lecture. At least I don't put half the crowd to sleep!"

"Ahem." El Padre squared his shoulders, straightened his lapel, and sniffed haughtily. "I am your senior, you arrogant storm drain."

"Tch — You're just proud that you're already old." El Capitan snorted, arms crossed.

Laughter burst through the room like wind cracking open a window.

Ren and Lily, who the staircase had quietly perched, now doubled over with wheezing giggles. Even Pharsa cracked a smirk, one perfectly arched brow lifting toward the heavens as she muttered under her breath, "Here they go again."

From where he stood by the window with Kim Kim, Four Eyes gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. The small smile tugging at his lips held warmth, gentleness, and — most notably — relief.

His eyes drifted to Ling Li, who sat poised and quiet beside Chin Chin, a teacup balanced perfectly in her palm.

Ling Li had been silent through the exchange, watching — measuring — and letting the storm swirl around her like silk in the wind.

And then, she glanced at Shi Min.

The flicker in her gaze was unmistakable now: affection.

Resolve.

Peace.

"Then," Ling Li said finally, her voice smooth and certain, "let's follow your arrangement, Shi Min. Let's end this day in celebration."

Everyone turned.

Shi Min smiled faintly, the tension finally cracking away from his shoulders like old armor flaking off.

"Then I'll handle the guests," he said with a nod. "And Mom?"

"Yes?"

"You'll wear red tonight."

Ling Li's brow arched, teasing. "And what if I don't feel like red?"

Four Eyes grinned from behind her, eyes sparkling. "Then I'll wear enough of it for both of us."

Laughter again — louder this time, unchained and bright.

It wasn't just a celebration.

It was a choice.

To rebuild. Together.

And this time… with no ghosts left lurking between the cracks.

Everyone got busy and went on with their task.

==========

The Arrival at the Grand Phoenix Imperial Hotel

As dusk settled over the city, the streets near the Grand Phoenix Imperial Hotel turned into a living mosaic of glinting headlights, velvet ropes, and velvet power.

A convoy of sleek machines lined the avenue in a queue that shimmered like a moving constellation of steel and chrome. Lamborghinis wrapped in obsidian matte, Rolls-Royces customized in imperial jade, and vintage Bugattis with silk tassels fluttering on their hood ornaments purred one by one toward the circular driveway. Each car bore a crest — either of corporate prestige, old martial bloodlines, or political dynasties too discreet to name.

Valets in ceremonial gold-trimmed uniforms opened doors with synchronized bows. The security detail was well-selected from Ling Li's various camps, coordinated subtly behind the scenes, and received nods of respect from elder council members and high-society nobles alike. A power parade — subtle as a thunderstorm behind silk—marched into the hotel's gilt-glass doors.

Inside, the hotel lobby gleamed under hanging crystal lotuses and walls lined with silk-paneled mural screens depicting ancient battles and celestial feasts.

This wasn't just a banquet.

It was a return to order.