On a day in early summer, when evening came, torrential rain would suddenly fall.

The sky was gloomy and dark clouds pressed down on the dignified and imposing Palace walls. The originally magnificent Palace darkened under the cover of the dark clouds, as if it were a huge cage, trapping the people inside firmly.

In the spacious bedroom, the curtains seemed very old, thick with dust. It had originally been a hot day, but one could actually feel a chill. Clothes and jewelry were scattered on the ground, as if a catastrophe had just happened.

The male omega knelt on the ground and looked up at the figure in front of him.

This man was in his thirties, but his face carried the wear of harsh years. Between his brows was heavy tension, and his eyes were like stagnant water, deep and cold, carrying an unshakable hatred yet shedding no tears.

"Your Highness, please." The eunuch beside him held the white silk in his hands and spoke with impatience. "I am still waiting to report to His Majesty."

Kim Taehyung's eyes landed on the eunuch and after a long silence, he slowly opened his mouth in a hoarse voice. "Xiao Li-zi, when I promoted you, you were still nothing but a dog at Gao GongGong's side."

The eunuch arrogantly raised his head. "Your Highness, the present is different from the past."

"The present is different from the past..." Kim Taehyung muttered, then suddenly laughed bitterly. "What a good 'the present is different from the past'!"

Just because of that one sentence, "the present is different from the past," the servants and officials who once respected him could now order him around. Because of "the present is different from the past," he now faced a three chi long white silk poised above him, ready to end him. What was the past and where did the present begin? Was it when Mei Jimin entered the Palace? Or when the Crown Prince was deposed? Or when his eldest child died tragically in marriage? Or when he returned to the Palace after being a hostage in the Qin country for five years?

From 'the past' to 'the present,' from the rightful Alpha of the court to a powerless omega, it was all because of one sentence from Fu Yoongi! The entire court could shift at his whim, rivers and mountains of Ming Qi could turn upside down! What a good 'the present is different from the past'!

The bedroom door creaked open, and a pair of dragon-embroidered boots stopped in front of Kim Taehyung. Above them, the corner of a bright yellow robe peeked.

"Seeing as you have served this empire loyally for twenty years, I will grant you an intact corpse. Be grateful." The emperor's son said.

Kim Taehyung slowly raised his head and looked at the man standing above him. Time had left no mark on his face. He was still striking, still the rightful Son of Heaven. He was the man Kim Taehyung had been devoted to for twenty years, the Alpha who had fought alongside him through hardships. And now he said, "We will grant you an intact corpse. Thank me."

"Why?" Kim Taehyung asked with difficulty.

He did not answer.

"Why do you want to wipe out my entire family?" he demanded.

Kim Taehyung had admired the late emperor's son, who had nine sons, each with their own merits. He had disregarded his own family's warnings, falling in love with him. He had devoted himself entirely to supporting Prince Ding, from a pampered omega who knew nothing to a trusted partner in court affairs. On the day Fu Yoongi ascended the throne, he was recognized as Empress-like in honor-a figure respected and revered.

He had believed he was the most glorious omega. But the princes' rebellion had just been quelled, the empire's foundation was unstable, neighboring countries schemed, and to secure peace, Kim Taehyung had voluntarily gone as a hostage to the Qin country. His children were only a month old when he left. Fu Yoongi had even promised, "I will personally bring you back."

Five years later, he finally returned to Ming Qi, only to find Mei Jimin, beautiful and talented, in the Inner Palace.

...

Mei Jimin, was the Omega son of an official Yoongi had met during the Eastern Expedition. Yoongi liked his compliance and cleverness and brought him to the Palace. Jimin bore a Prince, Fu Sheng, for Yoongi. Fu Sheng, an Alpha, was deeply favored by the Emperor, while Taehyung's son-the Crown Prince, Fu Ming-was neglected.

Yoongi had once declared in front of all civil and military officials:

"Fu Ming's temperament is too soft. Fu Sheng is truly my son."

His words were a clear declaration to replace the Crown Prince.

Jimin's scent had always been sweet, gentle, comforting-but now it twisted, bitter with fear and rage. In the Palace, he and Taehyung had fought for ten years. Jimin had repeatedly gained the upper hand, even convincing Yoongi to marry Taehyung's son, Princess Wan Yu, to the Xiong Nu. The Xiong Nu were violent, aggressive Alphas, and Wan Yu died mysteriously during the union, cremated immediately. Everyone whispered, but as the Omega mother, Taehyung could do nothing.

And now, it had all come to this day.

Yoongi issued the Imperial Edict accusing the Kim family of rebellion.

The Crown Prince was deposed and forced to suicide.

Taehyung, the Omega, was deposed and handed three feet of white silk.

He barely whispered:

"Why?"

His scent burned through the room-fear, despair, and the faint traces of his suppressed heat, the deep Omega instinct trying to break through but restrained by the elixirs and cold control Yoongi forced upon him.

"Yoongi... do you have a conscience? We've been mates for more than twenty years. I have never wronged you. When you ascended the throne, my Kim family helped you. When the Xiong Nu invaded, I wrote the surrender letters. When you sought the ministers' support, I knelt and begged for you. I went to a neighboring kingdom as a hostage, suffering humiliation... What did you give me?

When Jimin wanted Wan Yu to marry, you drafted the decree. She died at sixteen!

You favor Fu Sheng, neglect Fu Ming.

Now you've slaughtered my family... Why?"

Yoongi's expression remained cold. His Alpha scent surged subtly, dominant, intoxicating, controlling, as if marking the space, marking all present-staking claim even in Taehyung's broken body.

"The matter of aristocratic families was already decided. The Kim family's merits were too high. I persuaded Imperial Father to spare you another twenty years. That alone was grace."

Taehyung's knees buckled. Grace? He could barely hold in the heat rising in his body, his suppressed Omega instincts screaming for safety and revenge at once.

"Grace?" he choked, voice cracking, heat leaking from his pores despite the suppressant.

"You never spared the Kim family out of mercy. You only used us to fight for the throne. Now the kingdom is stable, and you throw us away. Yoongi... how can you be so cruel?"

Yoongi's scent deepened, sharp and intoxicating. He stepped closer, dominance radiating, making Taehyung's Omega body tremble despite rage.

"Take care of yourself."

He flicked his sleeves, leaving the room-but his scent lingered, a mark of control Taehyung could never forget.

Taehyung fell to the ground, trembling. All his instincts screamed: mate, Alpha, betrayal. Ten years of fighting Jimin for Yoongi, ten years of trying to secure favor-all a lie.

He coughed violently, blood in his mouth, Omega hormones flaring weakly, suppressed by the potions he had relied on for decades.

A voice soft and cruelly sweet echoed:

"What's wrong, big brother? You look so pitiful."

Jimin approached, Alpha dominance radiating, yet tempered with Omega cunning, scent a subtle mix of victory and mockery. Behind him were two more sons, Kim Qing and Kim Yue, also Alphas, their scents sharp, predatory, filling the room. Taehyung froze.

"Kim Qing... Kim Yue?"

"His Majesty summoned us. No need to panic. You've enjoyed fortune, but now it's our turn. His Majesty treats us well." Kim Yue smiled, scent pressing against Taehyung like a predator closing in.

Taehyung's heart raced. All those years, the alliance had been set in motion. He had been a pawn. The suppressed Omega instincts flared violently, heat surging despite the suppressants.

"You delayed everything for today?" he gasped.

Kim Qing's lips curled.

"We never recognized the First branch as family. You've enjoyed your privileges long enough. Now the Crown Prince is dead, the Princess gone, the First branch destroyed-you will follow them to the Yellow Springs."

Jimin stepped forward, Alpha scent thick, marking the room and Taehyung even in death, lips curved in a cruel smile.

"Older brother, the kingdom is stable. You should retire."

Ten years of struggle-Taehyung lost everything.

His son, his daughter, his clan-all gone.

He hissed, Omega voice raw:

"If I do not die today... you will remain nothing but concubines!"

Jimin tilted his head.

"Chen GongGong, do it."

The eunuch grabbed Taehyung, wrapping the white silk around his neck. Pull. Snap. The scent of his blood filled the room, mixing with the Alphas' lingering dominance. His suppressed heat flared one final time, desperation, rage, and instinct all colliding.

"My son... my clan... gone. All gone. Fu Yoongi...Mei Jimin... Kim Qing... Kim Yue... every one of you... if there is an afterlife, a debt of blood must be paid with blood."

Taehyung's last thoughts were dark, primal, Omega instincts screaming: "When I die... I will die with you."

Even in death, the Alpha scents lingered-marks of power, dominance, betrayal, and the promise of revenge in the afterlife.

The big black-and-white courtyard was quiet, bluestone slabs slick from the rain, vermilion pillars and carved railings engraved with intricate crabapple patterns. The night’s rain still dripped from the banana leaves to the ground.

A small purple-gold incense burner shaped like a delicate beast exhaled the faint fragrance of water-wood, fresh and cooling in the early autumn air.

The four corners of the bed were hung with bright tassels, and on the soft couch, two young attendants carefully fanned the figure lying on the bed.

“The weather is cold, and falling into the water would make the fever unbearable. Young Master has slept for an entire day and night. The physician said he should have woken by now. Why is there still no movement?” The maid in green could not hide the anxiety in his voice, and his scent of worry—sharp and fleeting—tingled in the air.

“Gu Yu, it’s been more than an hour. Why hasn’t the physician arrived yet?” The purple-clad attendant asked, his Omega scent mingling faintly with the cool autumn air, masking the panic underneath.

“Second Furen is watching closely. This could become a scandal, and the residence is trying to cover it up,” Gu Yu said, his voice low. “Master and Furen are not in the capital, Eldest Young Master is away, and Old Furen favors the Eastern courtyard. Bai Lu and Shuang Jiang went to find the physician and haven’t returned. Perhaps they’ve been stopped… Young Master is being forced into a dead end. I… I must go see for myself.”

Before he could move, a weak groan came from the bed.

“He’s awake!” the purple-clad attendant exclaimed, rushing forward. The young man on the bed rubbed his forehead and slowly propped himself up.

“Jing Zhe…” Taehyung whispered, voice hoarse.

“I’m here.” The attendant smiled gently, taking Taehyung’s hands in his own. “Do you feel better? You slept for an entire day and night. The fever seemed to have subsided, but you didn’t wake. I was going to go find the physician again.”

“Do you… want some water?” Gu Yu handed over a cup of tea, the faint scent of tea leaves calming but unable to suppress the faint rise of Taehyung’s Omega hormones.

Taehyung looked at the two attendants, confused.

He had once had four first-ranked attendants: Jing Zhe, Gu Yu, Bai Lu, and Shuang Jiang. All had been clever, capable, sensitive. And yet… none had survived.

When he was a hostage in the Qin kingdom, Gu Yu had died protecting him from the Crown Prince’s cruelty. Bai Lu and Shuang Jiang had perished—one on the way to Wan Yu’s marriage, the other in the Inner Palace, struggling for favor against Jimin.

Jing Zhe had been the most beautiful. Originally, he had become a concubine to assist Yoongi in consolidating power, using his beauty to sway the ministers. But in the end, he had been scolded to death by the wife of a powerful minister.

When Taehyung learned of Jing Zhe’s death, he had cried until his body ached, nearly losing his own unborn child to despair.

And now, Jing Zhe stood before him, perfectly fine, his brows still sculpted like a painting. Gu Yu smiled faintly beside him, and the other two attendants, only fourteen or fifteen, gave off a delicate, youthful scent that left Taehyung momentarily dazed.

After a moment, he smiled bitterly and closed his eyes.

“This… illusion before death is too real,” he whispered.

“What do you mean, Young Master?” Gu Yu asked, placing the cup aside and reaching out to touch his forehead. “Could it be the fever is still affecting you?”

The hand on his forehead was cold, comforting, real. Taehyung’s eyes snapped open, sharp and alert. He lowered his gaze to his own hands.

They were not his hands.

They were white, slender, nails neatly trimmed, round and delicate—hands that had clearly been pampered.

Not the hands that had wrestled through court politics with Yoongi, held pens to examine account books, and endured the indignities of the Qin kingdom as a hostage. Not the hands that had fought alongside the Crown Prince, or washed clothes in the Cold Palace. His hands were rough, calloused, swollen from decades of labor, endurance, and survival.

“Bring me a mirror,” Taehyung said, voice weak but firm, tinged with the sharp undertone of rising Omega instinct, suppressed but threatening to break free. The faint scent of dominance from Yoongi still lingered in the air, mixing with Taehyung’s suppressed heat, making his body ache and pulse with a confusing mix of fear, rage, and desire.

...***...

Gu Yu and Jing Zhe exchanged worried glances. Finally, Jing Zhe went to fetch a mirror and handed it to Taehyung.

In the bronze mirror, the young Omega’s face looked impossibly delicate: round and soft, a full forehead, large almond-shaped eyes tinged slightly red, a round nose, and a small mouth. Though not conventionally striking, his features radiated innocence and timidity, the kind that had once caused the Imperial family to praise him as bringing good fortune to his mate.

The mirror slipped from Taehyung’s hands and shattered on the floor with a crisp sound. Each fragment seemed to strike at his heart, sending a storm of emotion racing through him.

He pinched himself fiercely, and hot tears streamed down his face.

The Heavens had not abandoned him. The Heavens had truly not abandoned him.

He had returned.

Gu Yu and Jing Zhe jumped, stunned. Gu Yu hurried to pick up the shards, anxiously murmuring, “Young Master… be careful not to cut your feet.”

“Why are you crying, Young Master?” Jing Zhe asked, taking a handkerchief to wipe his tears. But Taehyung’s expression was strange, a mix of laughter and sorrow, muttering, “I… I have returned…”

He grabbed Jing Zhe’s hands, shaking slightly. “What year is it now?”

Jing Zhe hesitated, then replied truthfully, “Ming Qi, sixty-eighth year. Young Master… are you feeling unwell?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. Ming Qi, sixty-eighth year…The year he was fourteen, the year he first met Yoongi and became infatuated, the year he had begged his father to let him marry Yoongi…

And now… the words of Gu Yu echoed in his mind: “Young Master must not scare the servants. The fever has only just subsided. Could it be that your mind is still muddled? Eldest Young Lady is truly ruthless… is this not an attempt to end Young Master’s life?”

Most of his past days had been spent running errands and attending to Yoongi’s whims. Life in the Kim residence had been dull and tasteless, yet he remembered every incident clearly—the humiliations, the manipulations, and all matters involving Yoongi.

He remembered the time Kim Qing had dragged him along to watch Yoongi secretly visiting the Second and Third branches. When they reached the garden, Kim Qing had shoved him into the rockery pond.

Yoongi had been fished out, dripping wet, the other officials laughing, treating it as a joke. Word of Taehyung’s infatuation with Prince Ding—Yoongi—had spread across the capital months before. It had been a cruel prank.

In his last life, after awakening, he had accused Kim Qing of the push—but no one believed him. He had been punished by Old Furen, grounded in the temple, forbidden to leave during the Mid-Autumn Festival. It was only Kim Yue who secretly released him, bringing him to the Chrysanthemum Appreciation Banquet at Yan Bei Tang, where he had been humiliated yet again.

Taehyung closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

The Kim family had three branches. The First household, led by Kim Xin, his father, was the eldest son of the Old General’s first wife. The first wife had died young, and the Old General remarried, giving birth to the Second and Third households—Kim Gui and Kim Wan. After the Old General passed, the second wife became the present Old Furen. Though divided in branches, the three households had traditionally supported each other, their relationships often praised as exemplary.

The Kim family had served in the military for generations. In Kim Xin’s generation, the First household maintained military power, while the Second and Third branches pursued civil affairs. Kim Xin spent most of his time on expeditions, with Kim Furen accompanying him. Taehyung had always been under careful tutelage in the Kim residence by Old Furen and the two Kim Jiu.

He had been taught well but treated indulgently—until it had become a tool to control and manipulate him. The favors, the flattery, the “care” from family elders—it had been a trap to weaken his resolve.

Bullying and betrayal had always lurked in the wings: some openly before him, others behind his back. Every time Kim Xin and Kim Furen returned to the residence, their favor only reminded him of how stubborn and helpless he had been.

This lifetime, he vowed, he would watch. He would see exactly how these people would shamelessly repeat their old tricks—and he would not be deceived.

Just as he was lost in thought, the sound of hurried footsteps reached his ears.

“Young Master! Second Young Lady is here to see you!” called the maid sweeping the courtyard.

Gu Yu hurried in with worry in her voice. “Young Master, Second Young Lady is here to see you.”

Jing Zhe frowned anxiously. “Of all times? Young Master’s body hasn’t recovered. If she makes him anxious again, his suppressed cycle might flare.”

Gu Yu nudged her, as if warning her not to speak too directly in front of Taehyung, but her face was troubled all the same.

Taehyung felt a strange warmth in his chest at their protectiveness. These four maids were hand-selected by Kim Xin and Kim Furen—loyal, sharp, and trained to read the hidden intentions of the Second and Third households even when he had been too naive to see them.

Before he could speak, a young girl stepped into the room. Fifteen or sixteen, wearing a pale pink robe embroidered with chrysanthemums and a moon-white pleated skirt. Her hair was styled neatly into a tassel bun, her features refined and elegant. She carried the soft scholarly fragrance of a Beta female—pleasant, calming, deceptively harmless.

Shen Yue.

She moved quickly to Taehyung’s bedside with an expression of sisterly concern.

“Fifth Brother, do you feel better? After hearing you fell into the water, I worried all night. But Yujiao Garden said you needed rest, so I didn’t dare disturb you. Only after hearing you woke did I dare come.”

Taehyung looked at her—the Di daughter of the Third household.

Among the three Di daughters:

* Kim Qing was lively and bold,

* Kim Yue was celebrated for her talent,

* and Taehyung… was the Omega boy everyone said was timid, wooden, and talentless.

Outsiders praised him as *pure* and *virtuous*, but behind closed doors he was seen as useless—an Omega whose only worth was the scent he accidentally released when flustered.

In his previous life, Shen Yue had been the one he trusted most before marriage. Her voice had always been sweet, her words gentle, her advice constant—a guiding older cousin. He had been grateful. Blindly so.

And now she was here for the same reason as before: to plead for Kim Qing.

Sure enough, Shen Yue lifted her eyes, soft and earnest:

“Fifth Brother, Eldest Sister regrets deeply what happened that day. She never wanted you to embarrass yourself before His Highness Prince Yoongi. After you recover, please forgive her just this once?”

Taehyung almost laughed.

Prince Yoongi.

She *had* to mention that name.

Everyone knew how desperately Taehyung had once admired Yoongi—the Alpha he clung to like a moth to flame.

Mentioning Yoongi was a guaranteed trigger. In the past, he would have flushed with Omega instinct, the faint sweetness of his scent betraying him, falling into outrage, humiliation, and blind devotion.

Exactly as Shen Yue intended.

But today, he remained still.

Just like the previous life:

He had woken weak and confused, and Shen Yue had rushed in with pretended concern, provoking him into confronting Kim Qing in front of Old Furen.

Kim Qing denied everything.

The maids of the Second household lied.

Old Furen scolded him for “slander” and grounded him.

His scent had spiked wildly back then—humiliation, rage, helpless Omega instinct—and classmates at the Imperial Academy mocked him for it.

A foolish, shameful Omega, they had said.

He quit attending classes soon after, shrinking from the world.

Now, with an Empress’s memories, he could only mourn the naive child he had been.

Shen Yue placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. A faint scent of lotus powder clung to her—not strong enough to trigger Alpha or Omega instincts, but familiar, practiced.

And at the edge of her lips… a smile too thin, too controlled.

She waited for him to flare, to scent, to lose composure.

But Taehyung only stared back, eyes calm and cold.

His big almond-shaped Omega eyes—soft and timid in the past—no longer carried childish emotion. They gleamed like polished obsidian, steady, unreadable… authoritative.

Shen Yue shivered.

For a heartbeat, it felt as though she wasn’t facing the foolish youngest Omega of the First household… but a high-ranked Alpha whose status towered over her.

She could not know that the soul looking at her had commanded the Six Palaces, ruled inner court politics, survived throne disputes, war, loss, betrayal, and the death of her own son.

Taehyung tilted his head, voice quiet.

“Second Sister speaks too seriously. This matter has nothing to do with Eldest Sister. I slipped and fell on my own.”

Shen Yue blinked, stunned.

“That… that can’t be. Fifth Brother, you shouldn’t wrong yourself—”

“How am I wronging myself?” Taehyung interrupted gently, smiling faintly. “It was a trivial matter. My head is still dizzy. If there is more to discuss, we may do so at Grandmother’s hall tomorrow.”

Dismissal.

Soft, polite—and absolute.

Shen Yue swallowed, uneasy. She tried to speak again, but Taehyung’s calmness was impenetrable.

She left after a few forced pleasantries, unable to shake the feeling that something was terribly, inexplicably different.

Once she was gone, Gu Yu burst out, “Young Master was pushed into the water and nearly lost his life! How can she still come plead for Eldest Young Lady? And the way she spoke—something feels wrong.”

Taehyung hummed softly.

“When the sandpiper and the clam fight, the fisherman profits. She intends to be the fisherman.”

Gu Yu froze, startled.

Young Master had never spoken so clearly before. His aura, though still the gentle warmth of an Omega, held an underlying pressure—a composure that almost resembled Alpha dominance.

Taehyung lowered his gaze to his fingertips.

Why did Kim Qing push him into the water?

Because he had foolishly said,

*“When Father returns at the end of the year, I will ask him to let me marry Prince Yoongi.”*

He had spoken carelessly, trusting “family,” not realizing how quickly jealousy and scheming bloomed behind smiles.

Why did Shen Yue want him to fight Kim Qing?

Because Shen Yue also admired Prince Yoongi.

Before Taehyung died in his previous life, both sisters admitted it to him with cruel satisfaction—how both had long loved Yoongi, how both had wanted the Alpha for themselves.

This time… he recognized the signs early.

If both sisters desired Prince Yoongi so much…

It would be such a pity not to let them have exactly what they longed for.

Their wishes would be granted.

And the blood debt the Second and Third households owed the First household…

would be repaid in full, starting now.

...

In early autumn, the Northern Wild Geese lined up and flew across the vast sky toward the warm Southern lands. The summer foliage in the courtyard had begun to wither, and the colorful fish in the pond looked colder than usual.

Taehyung’s black hair was combed into a neat deer bun, held by an exquisite coral hairpin. He wore a crimson silk double nest cloud goose robe, outlining his small, delicate frame.

Bai Lu gently draped an embroidered cloak over him. “Young Master’s illness has not yet fully passed. Be careful not to catch a cold,” she cautioned.

Taehyung shook his head.

His stature remained small, shorter than Kim Yue and Kim Qing. His round, soft face, combined with his Omega temperament, made him seem younger than his actual fifteen years. But today… something about him was different.

Shuang Jiang observed quietly from the side, a flicker of unease crossing her mind.

His complexion was pale, but his gaze was sharp, sweeping over the small courtyard with an unusual dignity. He did not smile, nor show the timid, Omega shyness he usually wore. There was a calm, commanding air about him—as if overnight he had acquired the grace and gravitas of someone much higher in the hierarchy. Even his subtle scent carried a restrained authority, the faint musky warmth that marked an Omega aware of his own latent power.

Shuang Jiang shook her head, forcing herself to dismiss the strange thought. “Young Master… what are you looking at?”

Taehyung’s dark eyes followed the V-shaped formation of geese in the sky. “Just thinking… these wild geese fly from the Northern lands to the Southern country. Do they pass through the Northwest desert?”

The Northwest desert—where Kim Xin was stationed, alongside Kim Furen and the eldest Kim Young Master. Letters from last month had reported the capital turning cold, while snow had already fallen in the Northwest.

“Young Master must be thinking of Master and Furen,” Shuang Jiang said gently. “Master will return at the end of the year. He will be pleased to see that Young Master has grown taller.”

Taehyung’s lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.

The Great General, who only returned to the capital once a year… would first have to face his youngest Omega’s shameless insistence, the reckless marriage he had forced through in the past, and the political chaos that ensued. How could he be pleased?

Not to mention… the person he had been blind enough to admire—the Alpha Prince Yoongi—was a villain who had sought only to exploit the Kim family’s military power to fight for the throne. The contest for the heir was a nest of snakes, and Taehyung had been dragged into it by naïve devotion. It had ended with the destruction of his family.

Taehyung closed his eyes.

Half a year had passed, and the events of his life had sharpened him. Since turning fifteen, his marriages and alliances had been wielded as weapons by the Eastern Courtyard, forcing him into a relentless dead end. There was no turning back.

“Master… Young Master?” Bai Lu noticed the tension in his expression, the subtle tightening of his hands around the cloak. Her voice was soft, tentative.

Taehyung shook off the daze and saw Gu Yu jogging toward him. “Young Master, the Rong Jing Tang attendants have arrived.”

Rong Jing Tang—the residence of Old Kim Furen. Early that morning, a maid had been sent to check on Taehyung’s recovery. Once assured he was healthy, she said that, when he had fully recovered, he could come to pay his respects—or perhaps to make formal complaints. Both outcomes were equally dangerous in the Kim household.

Taehyung adjusted the cloak around his shoulders, the fine silk brushing his skin, a subtle warmth stirring in his chest as the scent of his maids mingled with the autumn air. “Let’s go.”

The East and West courtyards of the Kim residence were clearly separated.

When the Old General had still been alive, he practiced swordplay and boxing in the West courtyard. After his passing, Kim Gui and Kim Wan had pursued civil positions, leaving Kim Xin to inherit the Old General’s martial authority. That courtyard, along with the West grounds, became Kim Xin’s domain. The East courtyard remained spacious, housing the three Kim family branches: First, Second, and Old Kim Furen’s households.

Even standing in the courtyard, Taehyung could feel the hierarchy around him: the subtle tension between courtyards, the restrained heat of his own suppressed Omega instincts, the faint musky signatures of the women around him marking their allegiance. All of it reminded him that, though he was small, he would no longer be powerless.