Chapter 1 — Changed the entire Inheritance Lineage to Choose the Wolf King

The fog had not yet completely cleared on the Son Lang mountain range when Lu Yen Chi stood in the middle of the empty lot behind his house, her hands clasped around a long wooden stick, her eyes closed to listen.

This was an exercise she had set for herself since she was twelve years old: not using her eyes, only using her spiritual senses - the special sense that flows in the blood of the wolf tribe, allowing her to sense the breath, heartbeat, even the sincerity or lies in other people's hearts before they can open their mouths. The morning wind carried the smell of damp pine needles, the smell of someone's early-morning kitchen smoke, and a familiar smell approaching from the east.

"Fifth brother, up so early?" she asked without turning her head, the corner of her mouth slightly raised.

The footsteps stopped behind her for a few seconds, then a sleepy child's voice rang out, somewhat unexpectedly. "How do you always know in advance?"

"Because I stepped on a dry branch around the bend, and because I always carry the smell of sticky rice cakes stolen from the kitchen." Yen Chi opened her eyes and turned to look at his youngest brother - fifteen years old, messy hair, still holding a half-bitten piece of cake. There was a time when all five of her foster brothers woke up this early, sitting around the open field listening to her "interpret" her spiritual senses like a game. There was a time when Five Brothers ran after her throughout the forest, calling "Sister Yen Chi" hundreds of times a day.

Now he just stood there, his eyes avoiding, as if he didn't even understand why he was out here at this hour.

"Tieu Yen told me not to... not be too close to you before the ceremony." After he finished speaking, he bowed his head, seeming to regret it as soon as he said it. "I don't mean anything, don't take it to heart."

Yen Chi was silent for a moment. Her intuition, no matter how sensitive, could not analyze the reason behind such an innocent statement. But she clearly felt something was wrong - a thin layer of mist covered Fifth Brother's emotions, as if he was looking at her through a frosted glass, not with the clear eyes of his younger brother who used to hold her hand across the stream every flood season.

"It's okay," she replied, her voice softer than she expected. "Go back and have breakfast, or else the clan leader will scold you."

The boy nodded, turned and ran away without looking back — something that had never happened before.

Yen Chi stood alone in the middle of an empty lot, watching the small figure disappear behind the pine trees. There are seven days left until the Mate Choosing Ceremony — a ritual that every adopted female child of the Storm Wolf Clan's chief must undergo when they turn eighteen: standing in front of the entire clan, choosing one of the chief's adopted sons as their mate, to maintain their bloodline and power within the family. A custom that has existed for generations, no one has ever questioned it, including her.

At least until a year ago.

She touched her pocket, where there was a small folded piece of paper, the handwriting was faded from being opened and re-read too many times. Without having to open it, she knew every line by heart.

*"Yen Chi, I've asked about your holiday. If you really don't want to be forced, I'll come. I just need a word — even if it's a refusal."*

Signed: Bach Lang guest.

She had never actually met the sender of the letter, only that he was a merchant — or perhaps a messenger — she had met by chance at the border market nearly a year ago, when the Storm Wolves were still trading with a few neighboring regions before things became tense. He had eyes as deep as a moonless night, a voice as deep and solid as a mountain rock, and a way of looking at her that made her feel—for the first time in her life—that she was fully seen, not as a pawn in the clan's marriage game, but as a human being.

They wrote letters back and forth for nearly a year, through a secret line that she did not dare ask about, afraid that knowing too much would cause that fragile dream to shatter.

The breakfast bell rang from the main hall, pulling her back to reality. She folded the piece of paper, put it in her shirt, then walked towards the big house where the patriarch's family ate.

The hall of patriarch Quach Bach Hai's house this morning was more crowded than usual. His five adopted sons - from Thiet Phong, the majestic and quiet eldest brother, to the fifth brother he just met in the open field - were all seated. And between them, like a flower skillfully placed in the most beautiful position, is Tru Tieu Yen.

She is not a child in the house. Tieu Yen was originally just a maid who was accepted into the palace by the patriarch three years ago, after her biological parents - according to the story - died in an epidemic in the border area. But over the past three years, somehow, she has crept into every corner of this family, from making morning tea for the patriarch to sitting next to the dining table of all five sons.

"Hello sister," Tieu Yen spoke as soon as she saw Yen Chi walk in, her voice was as sweet as honey but her eyes passed her in just a split second, enough for Yen Chi to feel something cold hidden behind that smile.

Her intuition once again told her that something was unusual - but like before, that feeling was vague, as if she was trying to see through a faint cloud of incense smoke surrounding Tieu Yen's body. A strange scent, sweet but unlike any flower Yen Chi had ever known in the forest around the Son Lang range.

"Hello," Yen Chi replied, sitting down in her seat - now pushed to the end of the table, away from her adoptive father and brothers.

Breakfast took place in a strange atmosphere that she had become accustomed to over the past half year: jokes that only Tieu Yen and her brothers understood, glances back and forth like a private code, and Yen Chi - who used to be the center of this whole family - was now just a silent spectator.

Patriarch Quach Bach Hai, a man who once had eyes as sharp as knives, now sat at the head of the table with an undisguised look of fatigue. He ate less, talked less, and sometimes Yen Chi caught him looking at her with a strange twinge of guilt, as if there was something he wanted to say but couldn't.

"Father," Thiet Phong spoke up, breaking the silence, "there are seven days left until the ceremony. I have finished preparing my ritual."

"Good." The patriarch nodded, his voice hoarse. "Yen Chi, how are you?"

The entire dining table seemed to pause for a moment. Yen Chi raised her head and looked straight at her foster father. "I'm fine, father. I'll do my duty."

She wasn't lying — she just wasn't telling the whole truth. Because in her heart, "duty" and "true choice" have long separated into two different paths, and she knows that on that holiday, she will have to make the biggest decision of her life.

After breakfast, when everyone had dispersed, Yen Chi found the small kitchen at the back, where nanny Dinh Thi Le - the person who raised her since she was a baby, even before the patriarch officially adopted her - was still busy with the pot of morning porridge.

"Nanny," she called softly, sitting down by the fire.

Dinh Thi Le looked up, her old eyes narrowed and looked at her for a long time before speaking. "You stayed up late writing letters again, right?"

Yen Chi was startled, but the nanny just smiled and did not ask any more questions - she was the only person in the palace who knew about the existence of "Bach Lang Guest", and also the only person who never advised her to give up.

"Nanny," Yen Chi lowered her voice, "have you seen anything different from Second Brother, Third Brother, Fourth Brother, Fifth Brother... lately?"

The smile on the nurse's lips suddenly disappeared. She glanced around, then lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "Do you smell a strange scent around Tieu Yen?"

"I do," Yen Chi replied, her heart beating faster. "But I don't recognize what scent it is. It... covers something."

"I don't know what flavor it is," Dinh Thi Le said, still stirring the pot of porridge but her eyes changed, becoming more serious. "But I've lived long enough to know that there are scents in this world that are not meant to beautify, but to hide."

Yen Chi was silent, the disparate pieces in her mind began to try to put together but could not take shape. She looked out the window, towards the hall where Tieu Yen had just smiled and talked with Third Brother, her hand gently touching his arm so naturally that no one noticed.

Seven days left.

She didn't know that, at that moment, in a small room hidden behind the back garden, Tru Tieu Yen was sitting in front of an old wooden box, inside were tiny bottles of amber-colored spices, smiling to herself with a completely different face - cold, calculating, no trace of the fake sweetness from before.

“Seven days left,” she muttered, her fingers caressing a bottle of spices as if caressing a treasure. "Enough time to get everything done."