Even Brushing Cloaks Means Fate (2)
Alan thought the gaze of the bodyguard standing behind Lin was terrifying.
Dead end.
He'd really stepped in it this time. He was trapped, with no choice but to accept Lin's invitation. Ignore her, and that bodyguard would flip out; accept, and he'd still flip out. It was a total blockade—no escape route in sight.
But agreeing? That meant dealing with her, Princess Lin Xiao Mei, the very one who'd given him heartburn all day. His head felt like it was overheating.
That's when Meia stepped forward.
"Your Highness, forgive us, but our young master has a prior family dinner engagement. We'd be grateful if you'd understand."
"Hm?"
Lin's eyes turned to Meia.
"And who might you be?"
"I am Meia, young master Alan's personal attendant. I've served him for ten years."
"Ah, I see. I'm Lin Xiao Mei."
Meia bowed her head just enough to show proper respect.
Lin hummed thoughtfully, stroking her chin.
"I wouldn't want to ruin a family gathering... but letting Alan go after running into him feels wrong too."
Just let me go...
No, why was a princess of an entire nation showing interest in a newbie writer who'd just started scribbling? Alan genuinely felt the world turning blindingly white.
Kun'Rung's princess was trouble enough, but knowing the empire's own prince and princesses had their eyes on him too? He was dizzy enough to drop dead.
"We'll arrange another meeting later. I'm here today to celebrate my little brother's entrance ceremony, after all."
"Hm?"
"Albert Eling von Mueller, Your Highness."
Alan watched Albert perform the baoquan salute with a strange expression.
That's a murim-style greeting.
Eastern etiquette had so many variations that murim novels often simplified it to baoquan or Shaolin's half-palm salute. Officials from the imperial court or princesses like her usually got more formal bows, but that hadn't come up in Shuren Chronicle yet.
Lin burst out laughing at Albert's baoquan.
"Short life as it is, who knew I'd live to receive a fist salute from the Sword King's dragon."
"Insolent... How dare you before Her Highness."
"Shen, stand down."
"Your Highness."
"Don't make me say it twice. Can't you see I'm talking to them?"
Lin's gaze shifted to the brothers, effortlessly shutting down Shen, who looked ready to draw his sword at any moment.
"I forgot my status for a second there."
Lin snapped back to awareness from Shen's reaction. Every action carried crushing weight in a place like this. Seeing how overprotective everyone was toward Kun'Rung's one and only princess was enough to give her neurosis.
Feeling a touch of fatigue, Lin turned away.
"Enjoy your meal. Let's go."
"As you command, Your Highness."
Shen followed behind the departing Lin. At the same moment, a telepathic message slammed into Alan's mind like a battering ram.
"Approach Her Highness, and I'll cut you down by any means necessary."
Alan's face twisted in absurdity at the message's content—just as Lin's sharpened voice cut through.
"Shen, no telepathic tricks. Get over here. Need the riding crop?"
"Coming right away, Your Highness!"
Shen glared at Alan like he was daring him to try something. Why's a guy named like some AOS ninja clan leader picking a fight with me? Alan shook his head.
"Came for dinner, end up like this?"
"Thank you for the invitation."
"I'm thrilled you've befriended Kun'Rung's princess."
The academy's café was wrapped in solemn tension. Even passersby glanced nervously, thanks to the stern-faced knights guarding the terrace.
Amid them sat a girl with feather-light golden hair across from one with ink-black locks.
Her hair drawn out thin like woven night, red eyes gleaming like a full moon between. Paired with porcelain skin, she exuded vampiric allure—the princess of the Eastern Empire Kun'Rung, Lin Xiao Mei, in traditional attire.
"An honor to meet the Western Empire's princess."
"No need for formalities. I never imagined you'd already read Shuren Chronicle."
"It's all the rage in the capital."
Felicia Alcir von Tyranto, princess of the Tyranto Empire, smiled sweetly at Lin's words.
"It's stirred massive backlash from imperial novelists. Some hail it as a work to reshape the empire's literary world. What do you think, Princess Lin?"
"Well..."
Lin smiled, lifting her teacup. The unfamiliar Western tea's aroma seeped deep into her skin.
"It's surreal. I never dreamed someone in the empire understood my homeland so deeply."
"Heh, right?"
"To write human benevolence and malice like this is impressive in itself. No wonder the old guard envies it. Too much?"
"Not at all. Honestly, nothing's as dull as imperial novels."
Felicia meant it. The empire's literary scene was ossified—books little more than headache-inducing praise-fests, propaganda to bolster imperial power. True entertainment was rare. That's why she was fed up.
"Better than novels as tools to flaunt knowledge. I actually enjoyed Shuren Chronicle immensely. It's just starting, but the future looks promising."
"The empire's literary world must be quite rigid."
"Yeah."
Felicia sipped her black tea.
"You seem to have read Shuren Chronicle closely, Princess Lin."
"Of course. Shuren and Shana's bond was striking. Especially Shana standing in the enemy's way to let Shuren escape... heartbreaking."
"Ah, that scene. Shana blocking foes to buy time—noble, like a true hero from legend."
Not the fabricated heroes of propaganda. Shana's sacrifice shone brighter for her failure to become one.
"That's why I'm eagerly awaiting the next volume."
"Shame it's only volume one."
"I'd love to lock him in the palace and make him write. Cutting off a fun story like that? Criminal."
"Heh, the wait adds to the fun, I think."
Lin laughed elegantly.
"I'll just look forward to it. No need to pressure him too much."
"Fair enough. Hope we can chat more about Shuren Chronicle like this."
"Indeed."
Lin nodded gracefully, rose, and departed. Felicia watched her go, then stood.
"Might have to compete over Alan now."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Can't let him get stolen."
A writer who'd hooked her interest after so long—and one who understood Kun'Rung deeply? An irreplaceable talent. Perfect bridge to mend ties with the Eastern Empire.
And other reasons she couldn't let slip away.
"Alan Edgar von Mueller, you won't escape this time."
Recalling the boy who'd fled her sight in childhood, resolve hardened on Felicia's lips.
"Not letting you go ever again!"
Once in the academy, avoiding her was impossible. Felicia smiled in anticipation as the sun dipped west over her head.
"Pfftchoo!"
A violent sneeze. Alan wiped his nose with tissue.
"Someone cursing me."
Good thing he'd turned his head—staring at the manuscript, he nearly ruined it.
"Hope class doesn't start with weird questions."
He'd already fielded every question under the sun from Albert over dinner. Mostly "When's the next volume?"
Didn't expect recognition even on the way back...
Probably because Albert was with him, drawing eyes. Without his brother, plenty wouldn't know his face yet.
Going with him was the problem, Alan figured.
"And why was the princess there?"
Chaos. Total chaos.
Lin Xiao Mei. Black hair, red eyes, overwhelming chest armor. Arms crossed? The destructive power would've been unreal. He'd fought hard not to stare.
Her near-hanfu attire sparked odd suspicions—subtly Japanese-tinged.
"What kind of messed-up world is this?"
An empire phonetically like Kunlun, its princess in Chinese-style clothes. Suspicious no matter how you sliced it. Maybe this fantasy world was founded by murim transplants?
Overthinking?
Maybe too far. Alan set down his quill with a sigh.
"...Anyway, might get 'When's the next volume?' from professors too. If they're friendly."
Imperial writers and critics were all older than him—treat them as enemies.
"Ugh, terrifying just thinking. How much will they harass me?"
Alan paused, rolling his stiff shoulders. Hand-writing without keyboard? Without stamina training, his body might break.
"How to plot ahead..."
With his name out, this was foreseeable. Better focus on the story—more productive, he knew.
"He completes revenge, but highlight its ultimate futility."
Show that revenge leaves only emptiness. That was Shuren Chronicle's goal.
"Got it."
Alan's eyes blazed with creative fire as he gripped the quill again.