True Heir of Chaos: From Villainess to Empress

Jian Dan circulated the Qi Refining stage of the Primordial Chaos Technique, slowly drawing in the scattered five-colored light particles from the surrounding space into her meridians. After completing a full cycle, she compressed the energy into her dantian before repeating the process—absorbing, refining, and storing spiritual energy over and over.

Each layer of energy stacked upon the last, compressed to its limit. Only when her dantian could hold no more did she finally halt the technique.

Next came the medicinal bath, followed by body tempering. She alternated between cultivation methods without pause, and after three relentless days, she broke through to the tenth level of Qi Refining—officially stepping into the late stage of the realm.

For the past few days, she had been leaving the Zhao residence early and returning late, minimizing contact with the family. Perhaps due to her failed organ compatibility test, Qian Yi no longer bothered with fake warmth, her disdain now plain on her face.

Zhao Mufeng, meanwhile, was likely occupied with his son's worsening condition and company affairs.

Without the spiritual nourishment from the jade pendant, Zhao Zihan's health had deteriorated rapidly, landing him in the hospital. Even Zhao Ziyu, usually eager to provoke Jian Dan, now couldn't be bothered to engage.

Jian Dan was more than happy to be ignored—but it wasn't yet time to leave the Zhao household. So she endured their cold shoulders, maintaining her routine between the rented apartment and the Zhao villa.

"Ring—!"

The phone's chime pulled her from meditation. Seeing Zhou Bing's name, she answered immediately.

"Miss Jian, the Gu family's young master will be at the Capital Museum tomorrow for a volunteer assignment—giving guided tours from 10 AM to 2 PM. If you arrive early, you should catch him."

"Understood. Thank you, Zhou-ge. I'll head over prepared."

After hanging up, an uneasy feeling settled in her chest.

"Something about this meeting felt... off."

But she refused to run. In her past life, fleeing had nearly cost her everything—her identity, her purpose. This time, she wouldn't retreat. She exhaled slowly, steadying her mind before resuming cultivation.

By dawn the next day, Jian Dan was already seated cross-legged, absorbing the first violet rays of sunrise to temper her body. After refining the energy in her space, she broke through to the eleventh level of Qi Refining.

The advancement lightened her physique, and she noticed her height had increased slightly—now nearing 165 cm. Body tempering had its perks; enhanced strength often came with a second growth spurt.

She chose a crimson silk dress, leaving her hair loose except for a small topknot fastened with a delicate golden butterfly hairpin.

Though gold might seem gaudy, this piece was no ordinary accessory—it was a protective artifact from her mother's vanity case, exquisitely crafted with wings so detailed their veins were visible.

As she descended the stairs, she nearly collided with Zhao Ziyu, who was stumbling in after an all-night escapade. The girl's eyes flicked to the hairpin, her lips curling in disdain before she feigned sweetness:

"Sister Jian Dan, why so dressed up today? Meeting some admirer?"

Her tone dripped with insinuation. In her past life, Jian Dan had often fallen for these veiled barbs.

This time, she merely smiled.

"Ziyu, you're too funny. I've barely been in the capital long enough to know anyone outside this family. I'm just visiting the museum today. Care to join me? I've already asked Steward Zhao to prepare a car—"

She paused, eyeing Ziyu's disheveled state with amusement.

"—though I'm not sure you have the energy for it."

Ziyu's face flushed. The jab about her late-night antics hit its mark. Just as she prepared a retort, Steward Zhao entered.

"Second Young Miss, the car is ready."

Jian Dan nodded, then turned back to Ziyu with an expectant look. Realizing her rumors wouldn't stick today, Ziyu could only glare.

"I have plans. Go by yourself!"

With that, she stormed upstairs.

"Odd. Ziyu didn't seem to know about the Gu heir's museum appearance."

Jian Dan smirked.

"So much for sisterly loyalty among her little fan club."

The museum was alive with movement and noise—families shuffling from exhibit to exhibit, tourists snapping photos beneath skylights, schoolchildren clustered around tour guides, wide-eyed and chatty. Conversations echoed off marble floors, a steady hum beneath the hush of history.

Jian Dan moved through it all with quiet purpose, her steps steady, her gaze unwavering.

Near the east wing, a crowd had gathered.

A group of young women giggled and whispered excitedly, their attention fixed on a tall, refined man at the center. He stood in the museum's uniform—crisp white shirt, black slacks, and a staff badge gleaming on his chest. His voice carried gently over the exhibit space as he gestured toward an antique scroll behind glass.

Poised. Charismatic. He held the group in rapt attention.

Then, in the middle of his explanation, his gaze shifted—drawn as if by instinct.

His eyes locked onto her.

In that instant, Jian Dan froze.

And then—fury.

A surge of white-hot anger erupted from deep within her, violent and uninvited. It roared through her veins, primal and sharp, overwhelming her thoughts before she could even name it.

Before she could suppress it, the pressure of her late-stage Qi Refining stage leaked out.

The lights flickered.

The golden butterfly hairpin glowed faintly, poised to shield its master.