The Journey to the Main City

The journey took several days, the winding mountain paths eventually giving way to well-trodden trade roads. Meilin sat in the carriage, watching as the dense forests of the sect's territory faded into sprawling farmlands, where laborers toiled in preparation for the coming winter. Occasionally, they passed small villages—some barely more than clusters of huts, others large enough to boast bustling marketplaces.

Seated across from her parents in a simple carriage, Layla listened to the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the dirt road. She couldn't help but recall how different things had once been. In her previous life, she had traveled in a gilded carriage, lined with the finest silks and cushioned seats befitting a queen. Servants would have tended to her every need, ensuring the journey was as effortless as possible. Now, the worn wooden frame beneath her creaked with every bump, and the chilled air seeped through the cracks. The further they traveled, the more the air changed—crisp mountain air fading into the thick, smoky scent of industry. Lin Wuye, noticing her quiet observation, spoke up. "Our sect is nestled deep in the mountains, away from the political strife of the empire. The main city, however, is its beating heart, chaotic but full of opportunity. It lies nearly a week's journey from our home."

Bao, sitting near the carriage driver, leaned back against the wooden frame. "It's overwhelming at first, but you get used to it. The city isn't just one massive cluster—it's divided into districts, each with its own purpose." The city loomed ahead, its towering stone walls standing as a reminder of the world beyond sect disputes.

As they passed through the final stretch before the city gates, the contrast became even more apparent. The roads were wider, flanked by merchant caravans, nobles in extravagant carriages, and farmers leading carts filled with produce. The walls of the main city loomed ahead, carved from dark stone and standing tall like an unyielding sentinel.

Layla inhaled deeply as they entered, immediately noticing the stark difference in air quality—dense with the scents of burning coal, roasted meats, and perfumed oils. She frowned slightly. Perfumed oils? Had that always been a thing, or was this something new? For a moment, she wondered if her invention from her past life that somehow carried into this world, or if it had always existed here. The chatter of merchants calling out their wares blended with the sounds of distant hammering and the clinking of coins exchanging hands. The sound of hammering metal, merchants advertising their wares, and the scent of roasted chestnuts mixed with the crisp air.

She turned to her father. "The perfumed oils—have they always been around, or is that something recent?"

Lin Wuye stroked his chin before answering. "Perfumed oils have existed long before the current emperor. However, their quality and purpose differ greatly depending on who uses them. The common folk use them for masking unpleasant odors, while the nobles have refined versions infused with rare herbs and flowers from distant lands."

Layla exhaled, nodding slightly, but a nagging thought crept into her mind. Perfumed oils existed long before the current emperor, but had they always been this widely used?

She had introduced the concept of perfumes in her past life—distilling scented oils, refining them into something more than just a cover for foul odors. Even as far as to advance revolutionise the scented industry but if that was the case, then why did Jinhai hadn't further advance upon her creation? Was this something entirely separate? Had he ignored it, or had the world simply evolved in ways she could no longer predict?

How much time had truly passed since her first death? Hours? Days? Months? Years?

Her breath quickened. She hadn't noticed it at first, but the thought burrowed into her mind like a parasite, clawing at her sense of reality. Her fingers clenched around the fabric of her sleeves as her heart pounded against her ribs.

Or even decades? Was this even the same world? It had to be since Jinhai himself was here.

But what if it wasn't? What if everything she had built, everything she had sacrificed, had simply been… rewritten? Her inventions, once groundbreaking, were now afterthoughts, diluted into the background of an empire that had long since moved past her contributions. Jinhai was different—because this world was different.

Her breaths grew more erratic, her chest tightening as the realization struck her like a crushing weight. The city around her blurred, voices melding into an incomprehensible hum. She wasn't here. She was somewhere else—adrift in a world that should have been hers, but wasn't.

She and Jinhai had been the closest thing to forming a union between two great kingdoms. He had known of her sanitation concepts, her push for fair treatment of women and children, her revolutionizing of the perfume industry—ideas that had once shaped an empire. But here? Here, none of it had come to pass. It made her sick to her stomach. If these things had never been introduced, then was this truly her world? Or just a warped reflection of it? 

A hand touched her shoulder—warm, grounding. "Meilin," her mother's voice was gentle, but firm. "Breathe."

She gasped, as if surfacing from deep waters, only now realizing how tightly she had wound herself. Her mother's grip remained steady, her expression unreadable, but concern flickered in her eyes. "You're trembling. What's wrong?"

Layla exhaled shakily, forcing herself to swallow the rising panic. "Nothing," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just… thinking."

Her mother didn't believe her, that much was clear, but she didn't press. Instead, she squeezed her shoulder once before releasing her. "One step at a time, Meilin. Whatever it is, you're not facing it alone."

She nodded, inhaling deeply, willing herself to believe it.

She force herself to suppressed the thought for now, refocusing on the bustling city around her.

Jiang Wei sitting beside Bao, stretching his arms after the long journey, pointed toward the various sections of the city. "You've got the noble district near the palace—high walls, lavish estates, and enough politics to make your head spin. Then there's the commoners' district, where most merchants and laborers live. The poor quarter is... well, exactly what it sounds like. You don't want to linger there."

Bao smirked. "Then there's the infamous red-light district, home to brothels and gambling dens. Emperor's district is off-limits unless you have high-standing connections."

The carriage came to a slow halt, the driver announcing their arrival. Layla exhaled and stepped out, paying the driver as Jiang Wei and Bao flanked her in a protective stance, their eyes scanning the bustling streets for potential threats. Her father and mother walked side by side, their expressions unreadable but firm.

The market was alive with activity, reminiscent of the vibrant night markets from centuries past. Lanterns hung from wooden stalls, casting a warm glow over vendors shouting out their wares—spices from the east, silks from distant lands, bundles of herbs promising miraculous cures. The scent of roasting meat and fried dough wafted through the air, mingling with the more unpleasant stench of unwashed bodies and livestock pens.

"Fresh fish! Straight from the river this morning!" a merchant bellowed.

"Jewelry fit for a noblewoman! Handcrafted with the finest jade!" another called out, shaking a necklace for emphasis.

Further ahead, a different kind of transaction took place. A group of shackled individuals stood on a wooden platform, their gazes vacant, their bodies frail. A well-dressed man waved his hands toward the highest bidder. "Strong backs, willing hands! A lifetime of service for the right price!" He laughed, counting a stack of coins as a hooded buyer stepped forward to inspect the goods.

Layla's stomach twisted. Slavery. She had abolished it in her past life, ensuring that no man, woman, or child would be bound in chains under her rule. But here, it thrived, just another aspect of how this world functioned.

Her mother, sensing her unease, placed a steadying hand on her arm. "This is how the big city works, Meilin," she said quietly. "We may not like it, but we can't change it."

Her father sighed, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "The empire is built on trade, power, and control. Money flows through every transaction, and those without it are left behind. This is reality."

Layla clenched her fists but said nothing. She had changed a kingdom before—perhaps, in time, she could change this one too.

A sudden shift in the auctioneer's voice caught her attention. "And now, for the crown jewel of tonight's sale!" His voice dripped with exaggerated enthusiasm as he gestured toward a fragile, young girl being dragged onto the platform. Her delicate frame was wrapped in tattered silk, her wide, hollow eyes devoid of hope.

"A rare beauty! Gentle, obedient, untouched! A treasure fit for any discerning master!" the seller declared, his grin wide and sickening. The crowd murmured in interest, a few men stepping forward, their gazes sharp with predatory hunger.

Layla felt her stomach churn. Every muscle in her body tensed, her vision narrowing as rage pulsed through her veins. Her intelligence, her carefully calculated mind—none of it mattered in that moment. Her body moved before she could think, her feet carrying her forward as she shoved her way through the crowd.

"Meilin!" her father's voice snapped behind her, but she barely heard it.

Jiang Wei caught her arm, his grip firm. "You can't do this! We'll handle it another way."

"No," she snarled, wrenching herself free. "Not this time."

She surged forward, ignoring the hands trying to restrain her, ignoring the stares turning in her direction. The auctioneer barely had time to react before Meilin was there, standing before the girl, placing herself between her and the leering buyers. The world had wronged this child, just as it had wronged so many before.

But not today. Not if Layla had anything to say about it.