The sky was clear and vast, with birds singing and flowers perfuming the air. Outside the grand hall, in the spacious courtyard, all the servants, maids, and guards of the general’s estate had gathered. They were whispering to one another, speculating about what major event had just unfolded—like bees bustling among hives. At the front stood the steward, dressed in a slim blue robe, calm and composed. Though listening intently to the murmurs behind him, his expression remained unflinching. Internally, he did feel some curiosity, but as a servant, obedience was paramount; being too vocal would only bring trouble upon himself. “General arrived.” With that announcement, all the whispers faded into silence. The steward lifted his gaze and saw the general arriving—dressed in a deep blue robe, elegant and distinguished. Behind him came the general’s wife, the eldest daughter, as well as the chief military strategist, Mr. Ruanyi, and Lieutenant Lin Chengqi. What caught his attention most was that the general carried a young girl tucked gently against his chest—was it possible that the entire gathering had been summoned solely for this child? “Steward,” said Cold Peiyan, turning to him with quiet inquiry, “have all the people assembled?” His eyes stayed fixed on the little girl in his arms. And there she was—the young girl calmly glancing at the servants before shifting her gaze back, unimpressed and poised. “Reported to General,” the steward answered respectfully, “all except the ladies of the Chaojiao Pavilion have arrived.” “What about the Chaojiao Pavilion?” Cold Wanyan tilted her head. “Are those your secondary wives?” Her eyes sparkled with recognition—she remembered how these young wives had often treated her and her mother-in-law unfairly. This matter could not be ignored. “Yes,” said General Peiyan, smiling gently, then lightly tapped the girl’s forehead. “Call him *Dad*.” “Hmph!” Cold Wanyan rolled her eyes. “Dad? Don’t forget, you promised that all matters in the household would be decided by me.” “How could I ever forget?” Peiyan replied with a wry smile—this girl was no ordinary child; she was practically his little prince. The steward and others stared in amazement. They hadn't mistaken anything, had they? The usually reserved, dignified general now showed such warmth and tenderness toward the young girl. Was it true that this little girl was actually his daughter? And if so—who exactly was she? A memory surfaced—three years ago, one of the secondary wives had given birth to a child. Could that be this very girl? The servants, too, began to recall Cold Wanyan’s identity. Those who had once overlooked or slighted her now looked pale and even stunned. Especially Autumn Tang, the personal maid of Lady Liang, nearly fainted. Oh heavens—how could such a modest young lady have become so favored? With wide-eyed looks directed toward Liang, she found her own mistress glaring sternly at the girl cradled in the general’s arms. Her heart sank deeply—had both her mother and the general lost their standing now? What would she do? “Everyone listen,” said General Peiyan, his gaze firm upon the servants. “This is your Lady Wanyan—the daughter of this household from today forward. All matters shall be under her authority, with no room for dissent.” As he finished speaking, murmurs began to rise—then grow into a ripple of voices. “Can you believe it? Such a small child—what could she possibly know?” “Is the general jesting?” “…?” Then, upon hearing the growing disapproval, Cold Wanyan smiled—a composed, serene smile that carried an undeniable dignity. Her words silenced the crowd. And then came the memory of rumors circulating for several days about Lady San’s supposed magical talents. Now, even the servants were stunned—how could they forget? The once timid and hesitant third daughter had grown into a strong, capable woman. “Excellent,” said Cold Wanyan, satisfied. “Steward.” “Yes, Your Grace.” The steward bowed respectfully. “What is the penalty for those who disobey a master’s command?” she asked lazily. “The lesser offense: twenty lashes; the more serious case: fifty to one hundred lashes, and dismissal from the household,” replied the steward, his tone steady. In her heart, Cold Wanyan thought this was remarkably mild—after all, in their family, if any subordinate failed to follow orders, it was not uncommon for fingers to be severed or hands bound with ligatures. Twenty lashes seemed almost like a gentle scolding. “Listen carefully,” she raised her eyes and fixed them on the servants below, “from this day forward, I am the head of the household. Any who dare to oppose me shall face precisely this penalty—” With a wave of her small hand, a thunderous *crash* echoed as flames erupted from one side of the courtyard tree, devouring all its leaves in an instant. Everyone remained motionless, stunned. General Peiyan stared at his daughter with bewilderment—he was trying to figure out who had caused such damage to the beloved tree—yet he couldn’t blame her. Was it truly true that this young child was his own? As he watched her, more and more questions formed: a three-year-old girl, so composed, so self-assured, so commanding—could she really possess magical powers? Mr. Ruanyi and Lieutenant Lin Chengqi exchanged glances—they found the third daughter utterly extraordinary. Every move seemed to hold a secret. They hoped she did not harbor ill will toward the household; otherwise, she would be a formidable challenge indeed. Lady Mu and her daughters had first been startled—then their expressions softened into quiet amusement. The general had once thought they were stirring trouble—but now, here it was—the very magic they’d suspected had come to light. How could he still blame them? “Oh! A magical power!” someone cried out—and the murmurs began anew, now ignoring even General Peiyan. The impact of Lady Wanyan on them far surpassed any fear of the general’s authority. As the whispers grew, Lady Mu and her daughters smiled proudly. “Hush,” said the steward, though deeply moved within. To challenge the mistress was to be seen as improper—after all, it was customary for servants to uphold their master’s dignity. He raised both arms with a confident gesture. “What magical power? Lady Wanyan is no mere fairy—she is a true *mystic*, skilled in the arts of the celestial realm.” A *fairy*? Though many doubted this, they dared not speak out. Instead, they echoed softly: “Lady Wanyan is a fairy.” “Lady Wanyan is a reincarnated fairy.” “…” “You’ve become a fairy yourself!” General Peiyan looked at his daughter—she only pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed by the praise. He had never imagined she would hold such disdain for *fairy* imagery; in fact, she always considered herself a *mystic*, or even a *dragon girl*. Lady Mu and her daughters stared, utterly astonished—their disbelief turned into sharp disappointment. How could someone raised as a humble maid now speak with such boldness? Truly, the daughter of a mere servant. General Peiyan glanced at Mr. Ruanyi before turning to Cold Wanyan with a look of mild concern. “Wanyan, you’re still young and only a girl—how can you express such boldness?” “Did I make any mistake?” she lifted her brows slightly. “They are your secondary wives after all. And now, since I am the head of this household, I shall dismantle the Chaojiao Pavilion.” Then turning to the stunned steward, she waved a hand. “Let them go and begin dismantling it—should they refuse, let them come find me personally.” “Confirmed,” said the steward, smiling quietly beneath his words. He felt both amused and sympathetic toward the general. It was surely the first time he had seen a father publicly challenged by his own daughter—to remove not just one, but several secondary wives—and to select new ones as well. “And now—” Cold Wanyan looked at Lady Mu and her daughters with gentle embarrassment until they began trembling. “Reduce both your monthly allowances—the wife’s and the eldest daughter’s—to half.” “That can’t be!” Lady Mu cried out. “I am the general’s wife, still a duchess—how do you justify cutting my allowance?” “Duchess?” Cold Wanyan arched an eyebrow. “Have you not read the *Book of Female Virtues*? It teaches that upon marriage, one should follow her husband. You are now part of this household—what right have you to still claim ducal status?” “I—I…” Lady Mu stammered, glancing at General Peiyan. “General, will you allow such a child to run amok?” “Right now,” said Cold Wanyan with quiet amusement, tapping the general lightly on the shoulder, “I’m the head of this household—your requests go nowhere.” Then she turned and stepped toward her nursemaid. “Nursemaid, aren’t you awake by now? I’d like to see her.” “Very well,” said General Peiyan with a sigh, bowing slightly as he took up the role of carrying his daughter in his arms—his very own moving carriage. Mr. Ruanyi and Lieutenant Lin Chengqi followed behind, their eyes full of compassion, watching Lady Mu and her daughters who now stood flushed with indignation. They had indeed been outmatched by this unusual young mistress. Yet, when they looked at the general’s figure—the once calm, composed commander—now so clearly shaped by his daughter's influence—they realized: what could be more remarkable than a general who became nothing but a devoted *son-in-law*?