Lan Cheng had never once believed himself innocent.
Though he had been only an infant when everything happened, the weight of his mother's alleged crime clung to him like a curse carved into his very soul. No one needed to remind him — the emperor's cold, distant gaze… the whispers that followed him through palace corridors… the endless, suffocating years in the Cold Palace.
They had etched the truth into his bones.
You are the son of a guilty woman.
And so, he grew up with a single, desperate belief—
If he could become perfect… perhaps he could be forgiven.
On the Eastern Border, while others fought to survive, Lan Cheng fought for something far more fragile.
Approval.
Acceptance.
Love.
He pushed himself beyond exhaustion. Took missions others feared to accept. Walked willingly into death, again and again. Every command was obeyed without hesitation, every rule followed without flaw.
Not out of loyalty to the empire—
But out of desperation.
Desperation to prove that he was not her.
Every victory he claimed… every life he saved… every wound he endured—
This will be enough, he told himself.
This time… Father will see me.
But the emperor never came.
No praise.
No letter.
No acknowledgment.
Only silence.
A silence so vast… it hollowed him from within.
Slowly, quietly—
it began to rot something inside him.
And then came the night of fire.
Because in that moment, standing alone amid flames and ruin, Lan Cheng finally understood—
No matter how righteous he became…
No matter how much he sacrificed…
He would never be forgiven.
And then—
Everything changed.
The arrival of the imperial envoy stirred the entire camp. Soldiers gathered in hushed confusion as the royal banners appeared against the harsh winds of the border.
A senior eunuch stepped forward, his robes untouched by dust, his presence jarring amidst the scarred battlefield.
Lan Cheng approached, composed as ever, though his sharp gaze flickered with curiosity.
"Greetings, Eunuch Liu," he said calmly, offering a slight bow. "What brings you to such a desolate place?"
The eunuch smiled faintly, lifting a scroll sealed with imperial gold.
"General Cheng," he announced, voice carrying across the silent camp,
"I bring a decree from His Majesty."
When the words were read, the world seemed to fall silent.
"By order of the Emperor—
the Ninth Prince, Lan Cheng, is to return to the capital."
For a single, fragile moment… time stopped.
The wind stilled.
The noise of the camp faded.
Lan Cheng stood unmoving, the decree held in his hands.
And then—
Something flickered in his eyes.
Something long buried.
Something dangerously alive.
Hope.
After all these years…
Had his father finally seen him?
The thought came quietly—
soft… trembling…
and devastating.
Maybe his victories had reached the capital.
Maybe his efforts had not been in vain.
Maybe…
Maybe this time…
His fingers tightened around the scroll, almost as if afraid it might disappear.
For the first time in years—
Lan Cheng allowed himself to believe.
That the long suffering had meant something.
That he was no longer just the shadow of Ruo Meng.
That he could finally… be a son.
He did not walk.
He almost ran.
Across the camp, past soldiers who had never seen their unshakable general move with such urgency. Past banners, past fire pits, past everything—
Until he reached the one place that had ever felt like home.
The door slid open with force.
"Shifu—"
Bei Yu looked up.
And froze.
Because the man standing before him was no longer the battle-hardened general who had faced death without fear—
But a boy.
A boy who had waited his entire life for this moment.
"Shifu…" Lan Cheng stepped forward, breath uneven, voice trembling despite himself. "The Emperor… he's summoned me back."
He held out the decree like something sacred.
"I think… he's finally changed his mind," he said, a faint, almost disbelieving smile breaking through.
"After all these years… he's finally willing to see me."
His voice dropped, softer—fragile.
"To accept me."
Silence fell.
Bei Yu looked at him… truly looked at him.
And his heart clenched.
Because he understood.
This was not love.
Not forgiveness.
This was fear. Control. A calculated move from a wary emperor.
But standing before him was not a general.
It was a son—
still reaching for a father who had never once reached back.
The truth rose to his lips—
And died there.
How could he destroy this?
How could he take away the only light this boy had carried through years of darkness?
So instead…
Bei Yu smiled.
Warm. Steady. Gentle enough to be believed.
"Is that so?" he said quietly. "Then… this is truly good news, Cheng."
"I am proud of you."
Lan Cheng's eyes lowered, but the emotion there could not be hidden. His grip on the decree tightened, as if anchoring himself to this moment.
But Bei Yu stepped closer, his expression shifting. Serious now. Grounded.
"Listen to me carefully," he said, placing a firm hand on Lan Cheng's shoulder.
"The battlefield is honest. The enemy comes at you with a blade."
His voice lowered.
"But the capital…"
"They will smile at you while they destroy you."
The light in Lan Cheng's eyes flickered—just slightly.
"There will be those who fear you. Envy you. Hate you."
"They will provoke you. Test you. Wait for you to fall."
His grip tightened.
"You must be careful."
A pause.
Then, softer—
"Trust no one too easily."
Another pause.
This time… almost like a father who knew he was sending his son somewhere he could not protect him.
"And no matter what happens…"
His voice nearly broke—
"Do not let them destroy you."
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Lan Cheng nodded slowly.
His face returned to calm. Controlled. Untouchable.
But his eyes—
His eyes still held that fragile, dangerous hope.
"I understand," he said.
But in his heart, only one thought remained—
This time… Father will finally see me.