Three years earlier, the Emperor had suddenly brought an unknown young woman into the palace and granted her the title of princess despite enormous opposition from the imperial court.
Rumors had spread immediately that she had been born from an affair and possessed crippled legs, leaving her incapable of walking properly.
For a short period, the Emperor had openly favored her.
Then that attention vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Afterward, the capital slowly turned her into a laughingstock.
No support.
No powerful backing.
No cultivation talent.
No future.
Only a title hanging uselessly around her neck like decoration upon a discarded vase.
Zion slowed unconsciously as he listened to the crowd's whispers.
An abandoned princess.
A neglected son of the General's Manor.
Their situations truly sounded painfully similar.
Curiosity stirred quietly within him.
Without realizing it, Zion followed the flow of people toward the commotion ahead.
Soon, a towering tavern appeared before the crowd.
Its upper balconies were crowded with luxurious figures dressed in expensive robes, while commoners gathered below to watch from the street.
The moment Zion looked upward, his eyes narrowed.
Vanessa.
His former fiancée.
The arrogant princess he had humiliated inside the courtyard earlier.
She stood near the third-floor railing, dressed in extravagant crimson robes. One hand rested lazily against the wooden balcony while mockery curved across her lips.
Directly before her sat a woman dressed in pale golden robes.
A wheelchair rested beneath her.
The sunlight caught softly against the golden silk, while long dark hair spilled across her shoulders like flowing ink.
Even while seated quietly, she possessed a strange calmness.
Vanessa leaned slightly forward, cruel amusement shining in her eyes.
"Callista," she said lightly, almost playfully, "what do you think would happen if I accidentally bumped into you and you fell from the third floor?"
Her tone sounded casual.
The malice beneath it was unmistakable.
Zion's expression immediately cooled.
He disliked this scene.
The woman seated in the wheelchair slowly lifted her head.
Her features remained partly hidden from below because of the angle, yet when she finally spoke, her voice drifted downward, smooth and calm.
"If Your Highness wishes to push me, then push me."
A faint pause followed.
"What exactly could I do to stop you?"
Vanessa's smile twitched.
Annoyance flashed openly through her eyes.
This was precisely what irritated her most about Callista.
That calmness.
That steady dignity.
That quiet refusal to crumble no matter how people mocked or humiliated her.
It made Vanessa feel ridiculous, like someone dancing wildly before a silent mountain.
Beside her, another figure suddenly burst into loud laughter.
Prince Damien.
"Big Sister," Damien grinned mockingly, "if you dislike her so much, then just push her down already."
As he spoke, Damien stepped carelessly toward the railing.
Then suddenly...
His foot slipped.
Perhaps accidentally.
Perhaps not.
The movement happened too quickly.
His body lurched violently forward while both hands slammed directly against Callista's shoulders.
CRAAASH!
The wooden railing exploded apart.
A golden figure tipped backward into empty air.
Gasps erupted from below.
Zion's pupils shrank sharply.
Cold anger flashed through him.
These people truly possessed rotten hearts.
Callista's legs were already crippled.
A fall from the third floor could cripple her further...
Or kill her outright.
This was no longer simple humiliation.
It was murder disguised as carelessness.
Vanessa truly had not changed at all.
She was still willing to step on weaker people simply because it made her feel powerful.
Around Zion, countless civilians sucked in frightened breaths yet instinctively stepped backward instead of forward.
No ordinary person wished to offend royalty.
Even pity became dangerous in the presence of imperial cruelty.
Meanwhile, Callista continued falling.
Her golden robes fluttered violently through the air like torn sunlight descending toward the stone below.
At that exact moment, Zion stepped forward.
Then...
Instead of the heavy crash everyone expected, a different scream suddenly split the air.
"AAAAH! BIG SISTER, SAVE ME!"
The terrified voice sounded shrill and panicked.
And unmistakably belonged to Damien.
The entire crowd jerked their heads upward in confusion.
Then the street erupted into stunned gasps.
Damien now dangled awkwardly between the second and third floors. Half of his body was trapped inside the shattered railing, while the torn fabric of his clothes exposed an embarrassingly large portion of his backside to the entire street below.
For one heartbeat...
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then somebody snorted.
Another person choked while trying not to laugh.
And afterward, the entire street erupted.
"My heavens! His royal backside is brighter than steamed buns!"
"What an honor! Today, the imperial family blesses us with scenery!"
"The Second Prince hangs like wet laundry! Hahaha!"
Damien usually strutted arrogantly through the capital, bullying civilians whenever his mood soured.
Seeing him trapped helplessly in such a humiliating position shattered the crowd's restraint.
Laughter echoed everywhere.
Some people bent over, clutching their stomachs.
Others covered their mouths desperately while their shoulders shook.
Damien's face turned scarlet with humiliation.
Instinctively, he reached backward to cover himself.
The moment one hand released the railing, however, his body slipped several terrifying inches lower.
"BIG SISTER!"
His scream cracked with panic.
"PLEASE HELP ME!"
Vanessa's expression darkened horribly.
She had come intending to humiliate Callista publicly.
Instead, within minutes, her own brother had become the capital's newest joke.
Grinding her teeth, Vanessa hurried forward to drag Damien back upward while pretending not to hear the roaring laughter below.
Only after the chaos had settled slightly did people finally remember the falling princess.
Then confusion spread again.
Because Callista was not lying injured upon the street.
Instead, two tiny fluffy furballs sat directly beneath her like soft cushions, their round bodies having perfectly absorbed the impact.
The princess was completely unharmed.
The crowd blinked repeatedly.
"What...?"
"Did those little creatures save her?"
"That's unbelievable."
"Wait a moment... she fell from the third floor. How could two tiny furballs survive that impact?"
Even Vanessa frowned sharply while staring downward.
"What kind of cursed creatures are those?"
Right then, a calm voice drifted through the crowd.
"Ah... apologies."
The surrounding people slowly parted.
A young man dressed in flowing white robes stepped forward beneath the warm sunlight.
Loose, shoulder-length dark hair framed his elegant features.
His presence felt strangely clean, like cool wind drifting through summer heat.
"I purchased those little cushions earlier," Zion said lightly while glancing toward the furballs. "They must have slipped from my hands accidentally."
His lips curved faintly.
"I hope the young lady does not mind."
Sunlight brushed softly against his pale skin, while his dark eyes gleamed beneath relaxed lashes.
The month of cultivation had transformed him completely.
Gone was the thin, sickly appearance of the neglected young master.
Spiritual energy had nourished every inch of his body, refining his features until even standing quietly was enough to attract attention.
Several people nearby forgot to breathe for a moment.
Even Vanessa stared blankly.
"He looks familiar..."
No.
He looked familiar.
Like Zion.
But that was impossible.
The Zion she knew could never become someone like this.
The old Zion had resembled a starving ghost abandoned beneath endless rainstorms.
This young man standing below radiated calm elegance that was difficult to ignore.
Vanessa stared harder.
The similarity was there.
Yet the aura was entirely different.
Slowly, desire flickered within her eyes.
Beautiful people naturally attracted attention.
Especially when prideful royals believed everything beautiful should belong to them.
"What is your name?" Vanessa asked, unconsciously softening her tone.
Zion bowed lightly.
"My name is Zion."
Vanessa froze briefly.
"Zion?"
Then she quickly dismissed the thought.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
The Zion she knew could never become someone like this.
Meanwhile, Zion saw every emotion crossing her face clearly.
Recognition.
Confusion.
Desire.
Greed.
A hidden sneer almost rose within him.
Good.
She truly did not recognize him.
One month of cultivation had reshaped not only his body but his entire bearing.
Starvation and neglect had once left the original owner pale and lifeless. Spiritual energy had restored vitality to his skin, straightened his posture, sharpened his gaze, and naturally wrapped him in an air of calm confidence.
Even if the old Zion stood beside him now, few would believe they were the same person.
Without sparing Vanessa another glance, Zion stepped toward Callista instead.
Inside his mind, the two furballs immediately began wailing dramatically.
"Master! We got flattened on our first outing!"
"We saved a person! We deserve snacks!"
Zion almost laughed aloud.
Stopping beside the fallen princess, he lowered his head politely.
"Young Lady," he began calmly, "since my cushions saved you, perhaps you should..."
His voice halted.
Callista finally turned fully toward him.
The moment Zion saw her face clearly beneath the sunlight, even he paused briefly.
Rumors truly failed to describe reality properly.
Callista Moonstone was...
Beautiful beyond expectation.