The carriage, its Lin Clan insignia granting immediate passage, rolled through the main gate without stopping. The guards stationed there bowed slightly as it passed.
Once inside, Lin Yun's curiosity overcame his unease. He leaned closer to the window, taking in the sight.
The memories in his mind began to overlap with the reality before his eyes, and the familiarity, though borrowed, started to settle in.
A sprawling complex of pavilions, courtyards, and covered corridors unfolded before him, all built with dark wood and pale jade, their roofs tiled in deep blue. Ancient trees dotted the landscape, their branches twisted with age and spiritual energy.
He could see disciples practicing sword forms in a distant training ground, their movements sharp and synchronized. Servants and clansmen moved with purposeful steps along the stone-paved paths.
The scale was staggering. As one of the seven major clans of Fortune City, the Lin Clan's territory was not just a manor; it was a small, self-sufficient town within the city.
According to the fragmented memories, even the original Lin Yun, who had lived here for sixteen years, had never explored more than thirty percent of its vast grounds. There were entire wings, gardens, and ancestral sites he had never set foot in.
Lin Yun let out a soft, involuntary sigh. "It's... huge."
This wasn't just a house. It was a testament to generations of accumulated power, wealth, and influence. It was the foundation he had been born into, and the legacy he was now a part of, whether he felt like it or not.
The carriage came to a smooth halt in a central courtyard designated for arrivals. The coachman hopped down and opened the door for them.
The carriage door swung open, and Lin Yun stepped down onto the familiar-yet-unfamiliar cobblestones of the Lin Clan's main courtyard. Before he could take more than a few steps, a figure approached with a steady, purposeful gait.
It was a middle-aged man with a stern but composed face, his aura calm and deep like a still lake. He wore the simple but well-made robes of a head servant.
This was Butler Yu, Yu Wen. He was Yu Tao'er's father and the personal servant and confidant of Lin Canghai, the current Patriarch. The Yu family's loyalty to the Lin main line was absolute and spanned generations.
Butler Yu offered Lin Yun a kind, respectful smile. "Welcome home, Third Young Master. I trust your journey was smooth."
His gaze then shifted to his daughter, who had just climbed down behind Lin Yun. The kindness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a flinty coldness. "Tao'er."
Yu Tao'er flinched as if struck. Her shoulders hunched, and she immediately lowered her head, her twin tails seeming to droop. She knew the news of the alchemy accident had reached her father. In his eyes, her primary duty was to ensure the Young Master's safety, and she had failed.
Seeing her frightened, rabbit-like expression, Lin Yun instinctively stepped slightly in front of her. He offered Butler Yu a warm, disarming smile.
"Uncle Yu, please don't blame Tao'er. The accident was entirely my own carelessness. She has been taking excellent care of me. If anyone is at fault, it is me. I hope you can forgive her this time."
He used the familiar address "Uncle Yu," a mark of the close relationship between their families.
Butler Yu's stern expression softened slightly at Lin Yun's intervention. He pursed his lips, his eyes still on his daughter. "Since the Third Young Master speaks for you, I will let it pass this time."
A wave of relief washed over Yu Tao'er, but it was short-lived.
"However," Butler Yu continued, his voice firm, "your skills are still lacking. During your stay at the manor, you will report to me for special training every dawn. We must ensure such... lapses... do not happen again."
Yu Tao'er's face fell. She looked up at Lin Yun with wide, pleading eyes, silently begging him to save her. The "training" under her father was legendary for its rigor and was something she had always managed to avoid.
Lin Yun could only offer her a helpless, sympathetic smile and a slight shrug. This was a matter of the Yu family's discipline and Butler Yu's standards for his daughter. As the Young Master, he had intervened to prevent punishment, but he couldn't overstep and tell Butler Yu how to train his own child.
"Understood, Father," Yu Tao'er mumbled, her voice thick with impending doom.
Butler Yu gave a satisfied nod, then turned back to Lin Yun, his demeanor once again that of the impeccable servant. "Third Young Master, the Patriarch and Madam are waiting in the main hall. Please, follow me."
He led them through a series of elegant corridors and across several serene courtyards, each more meticulously kept than the last. Finally, they arrived before a set of large, intricately carved double doors. This was the main reception hall.
Butler Yu and Yu Tao'er stopped at the entrance, bowing slightly. They would not enter unless summoned. This was a family moment.
Lin Yun stood before the doors, taking a deep, steadying breath to calm the strange flutter in his chest. He was about to face his "family." Pushing the doors open, he stepped inside alone.
The hall was spacious and dignified, furnished with dark, heavy wood and adorned with priceless vases and tapestries. Seated on the central master chairs were a middle-aged couple.
The man had a square jaw, sharp eyes, and an imposing, dignified aura that seemed to fill the room. This was his father, Lin Canghai, the current Patriarch of the Lin Clan.
The woman beside him was beautiful and elegant, with a gentle grace that softened the hall's stern atmosphere. This was his mother, Mu Qiuxue.
The moment Mu Qiuxue saw her youngest son, her eyes lit up with maternal warmth and worry. She rose smoothly and hurried over, taking his arms in her hands.
"Yun'er! You're back!" she said, her voice full of concern. "I heard you had an accident in the alchemy room! Are you hurt? Are you sure you're fine?" Her hands gently patted his shoulders and arms, checking for any sign of injury.
A genuine warmth spread through Lin Yun's heart, melting away the last of his apprehension. Just like with Lin Wanrou, the affection felt real and unconditional.
Moreover, the uncanny resemblance—Lin Canghai and Mu Qiuxue looked exactly like his own parents on Earth—made acceptance startlingly easy. It was as if the universe had given him a second chance with them.
"I'm fine, Mother," he said, his voice softer than he intended. "Really. It was just a small mishap. Nothing to worry about."