Daniel
The courtyard slipped behind him—stone, silence, and the echo of a blade sheathing with finality.
This is how a son-in-law honors his house.
It clung to Daniel like ash in the folds of his robe.
He walked slowly, hands at his sides. Not because he was unsure.
Because certainty draws eyes.
Inside, Ethan's voice finally broke the silence.
"What you did back there…"
Daniel waited.
"You dropped to your knees in front of the Patriarch," Ethan said. "To protect a man who humiliated you. A man who brought a lover's gift to your wedding—with full intention to court your wife."
Daniel smiled. "Your powers of observation are astonishing."
Ethan's tone sharpened. "Explain it to me. Because either you've lost your balls along the way—or you're playing some game I don't understand."
Daniel exhaled through his nose.
"I'm playing the game," he said. "Just not the one that's expected."
Ethan sounded irritated.
"That level of insult demands a response. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked. You don't let someone walk into your house and challenge your place."
Daniel stopped walking, eyes fixed on the floating lanterns over the koi pond.
"We knew what we were walking into. Trust me—we did the right thing."
"I'm trying to understand. Vivian doesn't love you."
"True."
"You don't love her."
"Also true."
"Yet you chose not just to bow—but to kowtow—in front of the entire Empire."
"You are three for three, my friend."
"Why on earth are you kneeling to protect your wife's lover? Make it make sense, please."
Daniel turned, arms crossed lightly.
"Ethan, you're asking the wrong question," he said. "What would it say if I hadn't?"
Ethan didn't answer. He hadn't thought of that.
Daniel continued.
"For someone who comes across as enlightened, you're just as bad as everyone else here. Am I supposed to be so overcome with insult or jealousy that I kill someone? Really? Over a political marriage? A contract arranged by her mother? She didn't choose me. I didn't ask her to. I know how these stories go—face-slapping, power declarations, melodrama. And don't get me wrong: when needed, we will slap people. We'll slap the hell out of them. But this? This is not the hill to die on—and it's definitely not worth taking a life for."
He shook his head.
"You assume we should get worked up. But over what, really? Territory? Authority? Power I don't even want?"
"You make it sound like there's no meaning to anything. This stuff is important, Daniel."
"I know that interpersonal relationships are important. Trust me," Daniel said. "But I make it sound like I understand the rules. Remember—I got sucked into this world without warning and found myself an hour away from being married. I've been playing catch-up ever since. And most of our strategy has to revolve around Vivian."
He walked again, more slowly now.
"You're going to have to walk me through that one."
"It's really quite simple. She's the one in the power position. She's going to lead this family. She's the one who will decide how this relationship plays out. That's what happened with your brother. You said so yourself—in your past life, he was swallowed by pride. Ruled by jealousy over the affection of a woman he didn't lose—because he never had her. Caleb thought love meant possession. He thought marriage meant control. A fact he failed to recognize was that he had neither. And because of that, where did it get him?"
Ethan was quiet.
Daniel kept going.
"Kicked out. Almost killed, according to you."
"But Jin Xun's insult… the reaction was expected."
"It's a stupid expectation."
"So you're saying love, honor, and boundaries don't matter? That we shouldn't want a normal marriage?"
Daniel shook his head.
"What part of that original conversation with Vivian made you think that would ever happen? Love doesn't belong in this equation. At least not for me. Or for her."
His voice dropped, razor-clean.
"You don't get to tie your identity to someone in a political contract and then throw a tantrum when you're not their first choice. That's not romance. That's straight stupidity."
Ethan's voice was quieter now.
"Killing Jin Xun would've made you look stronger, at least. She wouldn't look down on you."
"For someone who claims to be a rule-breaker, you're surprisingly petty," Daniel said. "It wouldn't have made me look stronger—it would've made me look afraid. It would've made me simple. Like every other man in her life. And worse than being grouped with the sea of faceless men—I'd have lost any chance of being respected by her. Because of her grief. And trust me, that would've been our biggest loss."
He turned back toward the path, expression unreadable.
"With Jin out of the picture, you could've had a chance with her."
Daniel snorted.
"You think after killing her lover we'd start dating? Her white moonlight? How do you claim something that doesn't want to be held? Sorry, but I have to ask—do you know any women at all, Ethan?"
There was a beat of silence.
"You know, when I saved her mother's life… I wasn't thinking about any of this. I was just trying to help. Learn more about medicine. When I was reborn and realized I was going to enter the Li family, I figured if I just kept building, kept serving… eventually I'd find a place. Accomplish something."
Daniel's expression softened—not with sympathy, but with understanding.
He didn't move for a long time.
Neither did the breeze.
The koi stirred beneath the water, slow and weightless.
Ethan was silent, but Daniel wasn't done.
"Let me ask you something. Be honest. Why did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Join the Li family."
Ethan didn't answer right away—clearly thrown.
Daniel continued.
"Because from where I'm standing, you knew better. You knew what happened to Caleb. You saw how badly it ended. So why sign yourself up for the same cage?"
There was a long silence.
"Because I died."
Daniel tilted his head.
"Not usually a strong opening argument."
"I mean it." Ethan's voice didn't rise. "I died in the last timeline. I don't know what came after exactly. Dying is weird... I saw things. Knew things. Snippets of the future. No road map. But enough."
He paused.
"The war with the Demon Realm had already started. Small skirmishes. Displaced sects. A few sealed gates cracked open. A lot of people died. I don't think we win."
"The Li family should've been a wall. But they weren't. General Li and his sons—great Experts in the Empire—were already breaking from the inside. The blood sickness was spreading. The Patriarch was failing. Vivian was isolated. The younger brothers were barely holding it together. I was broken. Caleb had been cast out. And Claire…"
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"Claire had grown powerful enough to make a difference," Ethan finished. "But when the Empire needed her to hold the line, she didn't. She retreated."
Daniel stared at the water for a long moment.
"And you think it was your fault."
"The sickness that hollowed out the Li family," Ethan said. "I think I could've stopped it. I think I could've saved a lot of people. My silence gave Claire the tools and the space to become something monstrous. I was too caught up in my feelings for her to see how badly I was being used."
He exhaled.
"I'm not a warrior. But I could've helped. If I had just finished my research. Any one of several projects—if I had completed them and gotten them into the right hands—they would've helped. But instead I focused on making Claire happy. And the world suffered for it."
Another pause.
"So you came back to fix it," Daniel said.
"I didn't have a choice in coming back. But I figured if I was here… I might as well do it properly."
Daniel nodded slowly.
"Alright," he said. "Fair."
He looked over his shoulder.
"So what part of that plan requires Vivian to love you?"
Ethan groaned.
Daniel continued.
"I mean it. You came in with a blueprint. A moral weight. Good. Great. Grand. But what made you think affection needed to be part of the formula? So much so that you would've let her lover be executed in front of you?"
"It doesn't," Ethan said. "Obviously. I just need their resources. Their money. Their connections. If I have those things—and some help—I can finish what I didn't."
"Exactly," Daniel replied. "If you want to be part of the Li household in this weird political holding pattern, it demands that Vivian—the future leader—respect you. Ideally? Just leave you the hell alone."
Daniel crossed his arms.
"And for that to happen, you have to do the same."
Ethan exhaled slowly.
"So killing Jin Xun... or even letting her father do it…"
"Would've ruined everything," Daniel finished. "The house. The structure. The whole reason you're here."
"And probably gotten us killed."
Daniel smirked faintly.
"Now you're getting it."
Ethan was quiet for a beat longer than usual. Then, cautiously:
"How do you know all this?"
Daniel turned back to the water, smirking.
"What, strategy?"
"No. All of it. The way this world works. The social dynamics. The political framing. You speak like an Imperial Strategist. Like someone who was trained in court politics. But you weren't. Honestly, it's kind of embarrassing that you have to explain this to me."
Daniel let out a low, amused breath.
"That's what's throwing you? After everything else?"
"Yes," Ethan said. "Because I lived here. I studied for decades. And half of what you've said this week feels like something you'd only know if you'd been raised inside the noble class. You understand implications most people miss entirely."
Daniel tilted his head. Then grinned.
"I watched a lot of dramas."
"Dr... what?"
"Dramas," Daniel said. "Fiction. Storytelling from my world. Half of them were centered around complicated power dynamics, political marriages, scheming lovers, ruthless empresses, arrogant young masters, face-slapping—sound familiar?"
Ethan didn't answer.
Daniel kept going.
"Turns out, your world and mine share more in common than you think. The names are different. The rules shift a little. But the underlying beats? Betrayal, loyalty, legacy, ambition… same bones, different skin."
"So you're saying you studied this world through... theater?"
Daniel laughed.
"Cultural anthropology through emotionally manipulative plot arcs, yes."
Ethan went dead silent.
"You thought they were parables from the gods, didn't you?" Daniel said, a rare note of teasing in his voice.
"They... sounded a lot like the lost teachings from the Southern Monasteries," Ethan muttered.
Daniel grinned wider.
"The Scorned Concubine's Vengeful Path is not scripture. It's season two of Palace Shadows. And no, the villain doesn't get redeemed. Tragic, really."
Ethan made a sound that could only be described as embarrassed indignation.
"You're insufferable."
"Oh, now that was just rude."