Imperial Palace, Side Chamber.
Jiang Lijin threw herself into the velvet couch, letting out a long, frustrated breath.
Chiron walked over with a plate of snowberries, setting it on the low table beside her hand. The berries were already peeled clean, and his slender, pale fingers picked one up, bringing it to her lips.
Jiang Lijin opened her mouth and bit into it. The juice was sweet and icy, sliding all the way down her throat, easing most of her earlier irritation.
“Is it too much for Tianque to go alone?” Chiron sat down beside her, their closeness carrying the faint scent of fir.
“The security system at the Cabinet Building was upgraded by the Academy of Sciences three years ago—gravity-sensitive floors connected to a high-voltage grid. Once triggered, the entire underground third floor locks down.”
He paused, his gray eyes settling on Jiang Lijin’s face.
“The black market has plenty of tricks, but against this level of military defense, if he gets trapped, Darren will have an excuse to strike at you.”
He didn’t care about that black market shadow guard; he worried about how it would affect Jiang Lijin.
“I could have someone from the Academy cut the external network under the guise of maintenance.”
“No need.” Jiang Lijin answered casually, sinking deeper into the couch.
“Coming out of the black market, if you don’t have some real skill, you’d be dead eight hundred times over. If he says thirty minutes, it won’t take thirty-one.”
Chiron said nothing more, just curved his lips slightly.
As the words fell, Jiang Lijin’s wrist console buzzed.
A holographic projection automatically flickered to life.
The image was a bit shaky, shot from a high-angle looking down—Tianque was clearly dangling upside down from some ventilation duct or ceiling.
In the frame, Prince Darren and Hall stood before a heavy alloy door. Hall leaned on his cane, speaking with conviction about how even the Divine Shield Squad would take half a day to break through. Darren straightened his tie, his face brimming with smug confidence.
Tianque’s voice came through the communicator, pitched low, audible only to Jiang Lijin and Chiron.
“Twenty men outside. I’ve bypassed the thermal sensors.”
Jiang Lijin raised an eyebrow, lowering her own voice. “Didn’t alert them?”
“No.” Tianque’s breathing was as steady as if he were out for a stroll.
“I modified the backup power lines. They think it’s a test.”
Chiron paused in wiping his hands, a flicker of surprise in his gray eyes. His proud Academy system had been infiltrated without a sound?
“Did you get the crown?” Jiang Lijin asked.
The image flipped suddenly—Tianque must have dropped from a height. The hologram showed a semi-transparent climate-controlled display case, quietly holding a crown woven from dark gold vines, studded with pigeon-blood rubies.
“The lock’s tricky.” Tianque’s voice remained flat. “Biometric recognition plus a thirty-six-digit dynamic password.”
“Can’t open it?” Jiang Lijin sat up straighter.
“Opened it,” Tianque said. “I cut off the entire base of the display case and took it—case and all.”
Jiang Lijin: “…”
Chiron: “…”
Was that even allowed? If you can’t unlock it, just don’t lock it—steal the whole case.
A faint metallic snap came through the transmission, then the angle shifted rapidly. Tianque was already retreating with the prize.
No alarms. No footsteps. As quiet as if he weren’t stealing the empire’s highest symbol of power.
The feed cut off.
Jiang Lijin rubbed her temples, unable to stop the corners of her mouth from curling up.
That crude, straightforward way of solving the problem was right up her alley. What thirty-six-digit dynamic password? What biometric recognition? All useless in the face of pure physical destruction.
“His approach is… unique,” Chiron said with a chuckle, handing the last snowberry to Jiang Lijin’s lips, a note of appreciation in his voice. “But effective.”
Jiang Lijin bit into the berry, her mood much improved.
Prince Darren was probably still in his office, sipping red wine, waiting for her to cave—completely unaware that his trump card had been lifted, base and all.
When he found out, his expression would be priceless.
Chiron glanced at the time. “Let’s go. Wait for him back at the house. If we stay here too long, Victor’s people will get suspicious.”
Jiang Lijin stood up and stretched, her joints cracking twice. She bent down to scoop Rowan off the carpet. The little one obediently wrapped her arms around Jiang Lijin’s neck, still clutching a particle gun in her hand.
“Give the gun back to Ryan.”
“Uncle Ryan said it’s for me.” Rowan blinked her golden eyes.
Jiang Lijin glanced at the gun—no energy cell, just an empty shell. Ryan sure knew how to entertain a kid.
“Fine, keep it then.”
The convoy returned via the same route.
This time, when they passed through the main gate of the estate, Colin and his squad of the Guards were nowhere to be seen. The roadblocks were still there, but no one stopped them.
Jiang Lijin leaned by the window, watching the buildings blur past, already planning her next moves.
Getting the crown back was only the first step.
At the coronation three days from now, Darren definitely wouldn’t take this lying down. Losing the crown—something that big—meant he’d either retaliate furiously or pretend it never happened. Either way, she needed countermeasures ready.
The hovercar pulled into the villa district while the sky was still bright.
When Jiang Lijin stepped out, the first thing she noticed in the courtyard was something new.
A semi-transparent climate-controlled display case, its base severed cleanly, the cut as smooth as if made by a laser scalpel. Inside the case, the thorn crown lay peacefully, completely unharmed.
Tianque stood beside the case. His white hair was tinged with gold in the setting sun.
He still wore the same black combat suit from when he’d left—spotless, without even an extra crease.
Tianyan leaned against the doorframe, a cup of black tea in his hand, and winked at her.
“Twenty-three minutes. My brother beat his own record.”
Jiang Lijin walked over, first checking the crown to make sure it was intact, then turning to look at Tianque.
“Were you hurt?”
Tianque froze for a moment. Something flickered in his red eyes—brief and subtle.
“No,” he replied.
Jiang Lijin gave him a thorough once-over, confirming he showed no signs of injury before nodding.
“Well done.”
Tianque lowered his gaze, his lips moving slightly, but in the end, he just nodded once.
Tianyan watched from the side, raised an eyebrow, and took a sip of tea, hiding the smile at the corner of his mouth behind the rim of his cup.
In the black market, only the results matter. No one cares how much blood was spilled along the way.
“Alright.” Jiang Lijin patted the glass of the display case.
“Get this inside. Find a safe place to keep it. Figure out how to open it—we’ll need it for the coronation in three days.”
Rowan hopped out of the car and toddled over, circling the display case on tiptoes to peer inside.
“I’ve seen it before,” she said, eyes wide. “On Mother Emperor’s head, it looked so tiny. Why is it so big now?”
Tianque looked down at her, then—rarely—bent slightly to adjust the angle of the case so she could see better.
Rowan looked up and gave him a smile. “Thank you, white-haired big brother.”
Tianque didn’t say a word, but the tips of his ears reddened.
Inside the house, Jiang Lijin had just sat down when Tinia’s holographic call popped up.
The golden-haired young man looked smug. In the background, a middle-aged man in military uniform could be vaguely seen signing documents, his expression as if he were swallowing a fly.
"Sister! The Defense Force Commander is taken care of!" He waved a stack of electronic documents. "The old man's legs went weak the moment he saw the IOU, and he signed the letter of fealty on the spot."
"Good." Jiang Lijin smiled. "Well done!"
Tinia chuckled, and the call ended.
Jiang Lijin closed her eyes. The coronation ceremony, three days away, had already replayed in her mind over and over again.
