The transition from the clinical coldness of the medical bay to the vibrant life of the Xiao Estate was marked by an evening that Jingdu's elite would have paid millions to witness. The "Inner Circle"—the Marshal's most trusted generals and the Southern Commander's elite advisors—gathered for the first time not to discuss war or market shares, but to meet the woman who had survived a twenty-year ghost story.
The grand terrace of the Xiao Estate was illuminated by soft, floating lanterns. Jiang Chenhuan, Chen Yichen, and Feng Yang stood in a loose semi-circle, their usual bravado replaced by a rare, quiet respect.
When the doors opened, Xiao Jinglin emerged first, his hand protectively hovering near Yun Zi's waist. Beside them walked Shen Xi and Mu Feichi. The visual was striking: the North's military green and the South's golden luxury finally standing on the same side of the line.
"So," Jiang Chenhuan said, breaking the silence with a smirk as he looked at Yun Zi. "This is the legendary researcher who made our Young Marshal look like a common soldier in comparison. I must say, Madam Yun, your daughter has inherited your habit of making us feel intellectually inadequate."
Yun Zi smiled, a graceful, sharp expression. "And you must be the one who tried to 'hire' my daughter for your research department. Mu Feichi told me he threatened to break your hands."
Jiang Chenhuan coughed, nearly choking on his wine, while the rest of the circle erupted in rare, genuine laughter.
While the others chatted, Xiao Jinglin pulled Chen Yichen aside. The two men—the financial architect of the North and the tycoon of the South—stood like two statues of iron.
"I've reviewed your move on the Han Group's secondary stocks," Xiao Jinglin said, his voice low. "It was efficient, but you left a three percent margin of error in the offshore liquidation."
Chen Yichen inclined his head, a gesture of respect he gave to almost no one. "I was prioritizing speed over total extraction, Master Xiao. The Marshal's life was on the line."
"Understandable," Xiao Jinglin grunted, though he pulled a slim, gold-embossed card from his pocket. "Call this number tomorrow. I'm opening a joint clearinghouse between the Xiao Group and the Northern Treasury. If my daughter is going to be the bridge between our districts, I want the foundation to be made of something stronger than paper.
Nearby, Yun Zi was watching Mu Feichi. The Young Marshal, usually a wall of unyielding stone, was currently occupied with adjusting the silk shawl around Shen Xi's shoulders, his eyes softened by a look of absolute devotion.
"He looks at her the way you used to look at me," Yun Zi whispered as Xiao Jinglin returned to her side.
Xiao Jinglin followed her gaze. He watched as Mu Feichi leaned down to whisper something into Shen Xi's ear that made her flush with a radiant, happy color.
"He's still a brat," Xiao Jinglin grumbled, though there was no heat in his voice. "But he's a brat who walked into a bio-mechanical death trap for her. I suppose I can tolerate him being in the family photos."
"Just tolerate?" Shen Xi asked, joining them and slipping her arm through her father's.
Xiao Jinglin looked down at his daughter, then at the man she had chosen, and finally at the wife he had recovered. He took a deep breath of the night air, the scent of jasmine finally drowning out the smell of ozone and blood.
"I'll give him the Southern District's logistics contract for the next decade," Xiao Jinglin conceded, a smirk finally touching his face. "But if he's late for Sunday dinner, I'm raising the interest rates on his tank repairs."
The group moved toward the dining table, the silhouette of the four of them—the Doctor, the Marshal, the Magnet, and the Ghost—forming a new, unbreakable constellation over the capital.
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