crumbling whispers of the past echoed in the room, Liang Yu didn't flinch. Her gaze, sharp as a falcon's, swept over the grand hall where shadows danced on the walls. The air was thick with oppression, yet a faint smile played on her lips—this was her stage now.

"Where is he?" Her voice cut through the silence, carrying an edge that made the guards flinch. They exchanged uneasy glances, their hands tightening around their swords. Liang Yu didn't care. She'd faced worse before, and this time, she had the upper hand.

A sneer twisted the guard's lips. "You insolent wench, do you dare to demand—"

Before he could finish, her palm shot out. The movement was fluid, almost lazy, yet the guard crumpled to the ground, clutching his throat as if unable to breathe. His eyes bulged, and the color drained from his face in seconds.

The remaining guards paled. One of them scrambled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. "The princess... she's not to be—"