MARISSA
Marissa Lin was glowing.
Not figuratively—literally. Her mana aura always shimmered when she was excited, and tonight? It sparkled like lantern light on the lake.
Their family carriage curved up the eastern drive of the Zhou estate, and she leaned forward against the velvet cushion, clutching her mother's sleeve with both hands like a child on a festival night.
"Sit properly," her father muttered, not looking up from his schedule crystal.
"I'm visiting Ethan," she whispered back.
"That doesn't mean you get to bounce."
"Yes, it does," she said sweetly.
Her mother sighed but smiled. "Don't touch your face. You're flushed enough."
She ignored the warning and checked her reflection in the mirrored charm embedded in her bracelet.
Hair: perfect.
Robes: tighter than last time.
Chest: standing strong.
Eyes: wide, glowy, and innocent.
It was time.
The carriage slowed.
Outside, lanterns lined the paths. The manor was lit from within like a jewel box. She could feel the projections already watching—Path Icons scribbling and whispering and broadcasting little bursts of gossip for the public stream.
Good.
Let them see.
The doors opened. Marissa stepped out like she was descending from the clouds. Her parents followed at a polite distance, offering bows and greetings to the Zhou household attendants.
She barely noticed.
All she saw was the light through the windows—and the silhouette of him.
Tall. Poised. Quiet.
Ethan Zhou.
Marissa's heartbeat skipped, then stuttered. Gods, he looked good. Not in the overly polished, court-boy kind of way—oiled hair and posturing arrogance—but refined. Calm. Like a lake so deep it reflected the stars. No one else had eyes like his. Not that sharp shade of storm-sky blue. Not that voice like warm thunder. And not that quiet restraint that made her want to shatter it.
She knew how people looked at her. She knew what her walk did to the boys at the academy. She'd seen the likes, the messages, the scrambled flattery sent through charm interfaces every day.
But Ethan had never looked at her like that. He looked at her like she wasn't quite real.
That would change tonight.
She adjusted her robes—delicate coral silk, embroidered so tightly it hugged every curve—and walked through the main hall like she owned it.
The receiving chamber doors parted.
And there he was.
Seated at the table. Laughing at something.
Laughing.
She almost stopped walking.
He was even more beautiful than she remembered.
And beside him...
Vivian Li.
Cold. Composed. Drenched in elegance.
Looking like a statue someone prayed to—and then regretted it.
Marissa felt something twist.
Vivian Li had once been her idol. One of the Four Great Beauties. The Crane of House Li. Untouchable.
But she had taken him.
No—worse.
She had married him. And barely even looked at him like he mattered.
Marissa watched her for half a second too long. Then dropped her gaze, put on her brightest smile, and floated forward with a bow so perfect it hurt to execute.
"I hope we're not intruding," she said.
Margaret Zhou smiled and welcomed her in. A seat was offered beside Ethan.
She didn't hesitate.
And when she turned her head to face him—tilting her shoulder just so, chest forward just enough—she smiled like she hadn't spent the last two years dreaming of this moment.
"Marissa," he said, calmly. "You've grown."
His eyes flicked toward her.
And for one instant, one breath—
He smiled.
Marissa's whole body went warm.
She didn't care that Vivian was sitting right there. She didn't care that Claire Wang was down the table looking like someone had stepped on her name-day gift. She didn't even care that Caleb Zhou looked like he wanted to throw something.
Let them.
Marissa Lin was done waiting. And tonight? She was going to begin her ascent. Marissa settled into her seat like the queen she was.
She didn't care that Ethan was married. She didn't care that Vivian was one of the Four Beauties. She was a queen way more than Vivian ever would be.
She belonged at that table; she would make sure they all understood that.
Her family had been close to the Zhou estate for generations—distant cousins through some marriage line no one bothered to remember. She'd visited this estate since she was old enough to chase koi through the side pond. She knew the walls, the layout, the rhythm of the servants, even which tea sets Margaret Zhou liked best.
This wasn't intrusion. It was return.
She leaned just a little toward Ethan—not touching, not too obvious. Just close enough that if he turned his head, their shoulders might brush.
"You've really changed," she said in a low voice, soft enough that no one else could catch it. "I mean it. You used to walk around with ink stains on your hands and forget to comb your hair."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "That was a long time ago."
"It wasn't that long ago. Besides, I remember everything," she said. "Especially where you are concerned."
He gave the smallest of nods and turned back toward the table.
Marissa followed with a sip of tea and a smile.
She could feel the eyes.
Claire's. Caleb's.
And yes—most deliciously—Vivian's.
The silence was always the loudest part.
Marissa smiled faintly, swirling her tea.
"My father says the capital's gone mad over those reform decrees. Everyone wants bloodline stabilization clauses added into the marriage codes."
"Probably because half the empire's trying to marry into rare inheritance lines," Ethan replied evenly. "Some families are claiming their bloodlines shifted immediately after sealing. The Lings reported an evolution last season. They say it's tied to the new sealing rite."
She tilted her head, lips curving. "I heard. Miranda Ling supposedly developed a flame affinity that's almost identical to Darren's flame embodiment. Imperial Monitors are calling it a breakthrough. Instant compatibility. Instant potential. It's practically bloodline alchemy."
"More like selective cultivation," Ethan said. "But yes—a preview."
Marissa's eyes sparkled. "Some of those bloodlines are very... tempting."
His gaze flicked toward her again.
She felt it land.
Success.
But then—
Vivian Li set down her teacup.
The sound was soft.
Too soft.
Like a threat wearing perfume.
For the first time, Marissa dared a glance across the table.
Vivian met her eyes.
No smile. No coldness.
Just… stillness.
Like an archer notched but not drawn.
Marissa's stomach flipped.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
Vivian was supposed to be bored. Detached. Above all this.
Instead, she looked like she was measuring her.
Marissa tilted her chin and smiled sweetly.
"Lady Li. You're even more beautiful in person. I almost didn't recognize you without your veil."
Vivian blinked once.
Marissa felt the temperature drop two degrees.
Then—gracefully, with a diplomat's poise—Vivian inclined her head.
"The Path Icons always edit their projections," she said. "Reality tends to be... sharper."
Marissa kept smiling. Barely.
The conversation at the table resumed, but suddenly it felt like walking through a garden filled with traps.
The smiles, the laughter, the politeness—all there.
But so were the eyes.
Ethan was watching both of them now, a bit of bewilderment on his face.
Claire looked like she wanted to vanish.
And Vivian?
Vivian took another bite of lotus root with the indifference of a woman who could have the table flipped and still come out looking clean.
Marissa straightened.
Fine.
So Vivian had decided to play.
So had she.
This wasn't over.
This was the opening move.