Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

Chapter 13: Reckoning Storm

A mother’s fury burns hotter than the eternal flame, and her love cuts deeper than the sharpest blade. In protecting her young, she becomes both shield and sword.

—Master Bai Yue, Hand of Mortal Healing

Silence crashed through the hall like a physical wave. Every eye fixed on Xiulan as she stood before the county throne.

"Who allowed you in here?" Madam Zhang’s shriek pierced the quiet. "How dare you sneak about like a common thief!"

Lord Lin slammed his fist against the throne’s armrest. "Enough!" His face reddened as he glared at Xiulan. "How could you attempt to murder your own brother? You betrayed this family—betrayed me!"

Xiulan dropped into a formal bow. "Honored Father, I have neither betrayed you nor our family name."

"She tried to murder my son!" Madam Zhang leaped to her feet. "Remove this viper from our family immediately!"

The silk of Xiulan’s dress rustled as she straightened. "I apologize for stabbing Lin Jin, but I had no choice."

"So you admit to stabbing your brother Jin?" Lord Lin’s words cut through the tension.

"I acted to protect my life." Xiulan gestured to her visible bruises. "Ask anyone how badly I was injured. Doctor Jin Wei’s healing pill alone allows me to stand here today."

The fury in Lord Lin’s expression wavered, confusion seeping through. He opened his mouth to speak—

The hall’s side door burst open. Lin Jin stormed through, face twisted with rage. "Liar! The witnesses already told the truth. There’s no need to listen to more of your deceptions—you tried to murder me!"

Xiulan straightened, fixing Lin Jin with an icy stare. "Which hall path did we meet in when this alleged attack occurred?"

Lin Jin blinked rapidly. "What?"

"A simple question. Where did this confrontation happen?" Xiulan took a step forward. "What time of day was it?"

"I—that’s not—" Lin Jin’s shoulders tensed.

"Perhaps you could tell Father what you were doing when we encountered each other?" The silk of her sleeve whispered as she gestured. "Or explain why I suddenly attacked you without provocation?"

"You ambushed me! I don’t have to remember every detail!" Spittle flew from Lin Jin’s mouth.

"Ambushed you?" Xiulan’s laugh echoed off the pavilion walls. "Are you claiming that I, a sixteen-year-old girl, somehow dragged down a grown man who saunters about the manor mounted on horseback, surrounded by house guards, and wearing full armor?"

Lin Jin’s mouth opened and closed as if he was gasping for air.

"Father." Xiulan turned to Lord Lin. "Your son lies."

"How dare you!" Madam Zhang’s face flushed crimson. "This insolent—"

"I have witnesses waiting outside." Xiulan’s words cut through Madam Zhang’s tirade. "They can speak to the truth."

"We’ve heard enough!" Madam Zhang waved dismissively. "There’s no need for—"

Lord Lin raised his hand, silencing his wife. "Bring them in."

Relief flooded through Xiulan as Mei Chen led two dozen ladies into the court. Their silk robes rustled against the floor as they assembled.

"Father, with your permission, I would like to question the witnesses." Xiulan maintained perfect posture despite her aching ribs and ankles. The wall had been taller than she had thought, maybe.

Lord Lin’s gaze swept across the assembled women. "Permission granted. But know this—any witness found lying will receive one thousand lashes!"

One of Madam Zhang’s earlier witnesses stumbled backward, face draining of color. Another turned and fled through the rear entrance, causing a ripple of whispers.

Xiulan ignored the commotion. "Mei Chen, step forward."

Madam Zhang’s painted lips curved into a predatory smile. The victory in her eyes sent ice through Xiulan’s veins.

Lord Lin stood, his decision poised on the edge of his lips—and then the main gates to the court swung open with a resounding crash.

The seldom-used ceremonial entrance squealed loudly in protest, silencing the court’s entire ensemble. Heads turned.

Xiulan’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened as Lin Zhao Lian stepped into the hall, adorned in the most ornate wedding dress she had ever seen. Sea shell dust made the hems glitter, and gemstones traced the collar in intricate patterns. Three maids followed closely, ensuring the pristine red and gold robe remained untangled and immaculate.

The room held its collective breath as Zhao Lian moved forward with deliberate grace, each step echoing through the silent hall. She stopped in front of the throne, her presence commanding attention.

Madam Zhang’s growl broke the silence. "Look at these theatrics," she sneered. "A desperate attempt to save her daughter."

Zhao Lian raised her chin, her voice ringing out with unwavering strength. "Husband! I call upon you for justice in this house!"

The declaration sent a dangerous ripple through the room. Madam Zhang’s face twisted with fury, and Lin Jin’s eyes blazed with anger.

Xiulan felt a chill creep down her spine. Zhao Lian was just the third concubine now, but she had been Lord Lin’s legitimate first wife once. That was why Xiulan held the title of second daughter despite her sister Suyin being older by a year.

But bringing up that fact was perilous.

House Chao and Madam Zhang had long ignored Zhao Lian’s former status, given how poorly Lord Lin had treated her after her demotion. By honor and tradition, Zhao Lian should have been the first wife by seniority. Lord Lin had pushed and bullied his way through that because Zhao Lian had become barren after giving birth to Xiulan. He wanted to please Madam Zhang, the mother of his precious male heir.

Xiulan clenched her fist, nails digging into her palm.

Lord Lin’s face reflected his inner turmoil. He looked like he wanted to dismiss Zhao Lian outright, but faltered, uncertainty clouding his features.

Zhao Lian’s eyes locked onto Lord Lin’s, unyielding. "Husband," she repeated. "I demand you reclaim your honor!"

The silk of her mother’s wedding dress rustled as she withdrew a golden scroll from her robes. Xiulan’s breath caught at the rich gleam of the ornate case. The scroll unfurled with a soft whisper, rolling across the polished floor toward Father’s throne.

"Although my family’s elders are gone, my father is lost, and my brothers are buried, I remind you that our marriage contract bears the seals of Duke Min Jin and Duchess Anwen Yara as guarantors and witnesses!"

Xiulan shifted her weight, fingers twisting into her sleeves. The muscles in her back tensed as her mother’s words echoed through the hall. The familiar scent of jasmine became a stark contrast to the mounting tension.

Zhao Lian’s voice rose, sharp and clear as a temple bell. "You swore to uphold and protect me, the daughter of the Song Family! Yet a man stormed into my courtyard and berated my servants without a shred of dignity—worse than a rabid dog in the streets!"

A bead of sweat trickled down Xiulan’s neck. The bruises on her ribs throbbed in time with her racing pulse.

"He struck Xiulan!" Zhao Lian’s accusation pierced the air. "And when I tried to protect her, he struck me as well!"

Zhao Lian’s arm shot out, finger pointed at Lin Jin like an arrow. "He tried to murder OUR daughter, in front of me, in my courtyard!"

Deep creases lined Lord Lin’s face. The proud patriarch seemed to age years in mere moments, shoulders sagging beneath his official robes.

"This outrageous display—" Madam Zhang started.

"Silence!" Zhao Lian’s voice cracked through the air like thunder. "If you ignore this transgression, if you forsake your sworn oaths, you prove yourself the lowest of men! Empty words and hollow promises—that’s all you offered when you robbed my family’s wealth!"

Xiulan’s breath caught. The raw power in her mother’s words sent ripples of shock through the assembled witnesses.

"Make your choice now." Zhao Lian’s fingers tightened around the marriage scroll. "Deny me justice, and I will tear this writ to pieces and divorce you this instant! Ten million taels and ten thousand tracts of land—my full dowry returns to me. Blackmere’s precious trade agreement with my maternal house will end today!"

Lord Lin crumpled onto his throne. His mouth worked soundlessly, authority stripped away by Zhao Lian’s declaration.

Xiulan stared in awe at her mother. The gentle, resigned woman she remembered had vanished, replaced by an unstoppable force that obliterated Madam Zhang’s scheme like a hammer to a teacup.

A flash of movement drew Xiulan’s attention. Hatred blazed in Madam Zhang’s eyes. Lin Jin’s hand twitched toward his belt, where a dagger usually hung. The fury in their expressions promised vengeance.

Zhao Lian stood tall, unshakeable as a mountain. She had turned defeat into absolute victory with a few precisely chosen words and by leveraging her worth that had been disastrously cast away and then ignored.

But now it would be war.