The blue giant bird was relentless in its quest to feed Baisha. Perhaps, in its simple worldview, a fledgling that didn't eat would surely starve.
Baisha recoiled from the red berries it brought. Undeterred, the bird plucked one in its beak, aiming for her mouth, only to be thwarted by Baisha's defiant dodges.
The bird's ornate crest bristled, a sign of irritation. It dropped the berry, poised to peck the wayward chick as punishment. But the sight of the white fledgling—already patchy from earlier grooming, cowering in the nest with pitiful chirps—softened its resolve. With a sigh, it nudged the berry closer, hoping the chick would suddenly relent.
Baisha desperately tried to speak, but only "chirp, chirp, chirp" escaped her beak.
Minutes later, the bird's patience waned. With a flourish of its wings, it soared from the nest. Baisha instinctively hopped forward, only to recall her flightless state. Defeated, she slumped back into the nest.
Time passed—how long, she couldn't tell—before the bird returned, clutching branches laden with berries of varying hues and sizes. It landed, meticulously stripping the fruits and stacking them neatly before nudging the sulking Baisha toward the pile.
Baisha: "Chirp, chirp, chirp."
Uncle, snap out of it!
The bird's guileless gaze confirmed her suspicion: her uncle was still lost in instinct.
She needed to jolt his rationality awake.
But then, driven by impulse, she leaned toward the berries and sniffed.
They… smell kind of nice…
Minutes later, a round-bellied white chick lay sprawled in the nest, hiccupping softly.
The blue bird watched, waiting until she'd devoured the lot before gliding into the cramped nest, its resplendent tail feathers filling the space. It lowered its beak to groom Baisha's head. Alarmed, she rolled away—she'd rather not go bald. The roll sent her tumbling out of the nest, startling both. As the bird moved to save her, Baisha flapped frantically, wobbling into the air. Her flight was erratic, but she was airborne.
Her first act as a flier? She zoomed to the blue bird, executed a shaky 360-degree spin to display herself, and chirped furiously.
Can't you see? We're completely different birds! I'm not your kin—don't you find it odd to have a stranger in your nest?
Baisha knew some birds identified their young solely by nest presence. A chick outside the nest might be forgotten. Yet this bird, having carried her to its nest, clearly recognized her nature.
Didn't it find their dissimilarity strange?
The blue bird, unmoved, mistook her display for joy, mimicking her spin with regal grace, as if celebrating her newfound flight.
Baisha: "…"
She couldn't quell her uncle's overwhelming "parental" zeal.
Resigned, she veered off, searching for the illusion's exit.
The bird, initially pleased by her agility, grew anxious as she shot into the dense forest like a missile. Realizing its chick was "rebelling," it pursued, its clear cries tinged with urgency.
Baisha mastered flight swiftly, as if born for the skies. Tiny but swift, with keen eyesight, she scanned for an exit. Finding none, she climbed higher for a broader view. The sound of flapping wings trailed her—the blue bird, closing in.
After a moment's hesitation, Baisha gritted her beak, halted midair, and dove headlong at the bird's face. Its eyes widened, unprepared for the assault, as the white fluffball hurtled toward it—
Thud.
Baisha's eyes snapped open, bubbles rising from her nose. The pain of the collision lingered. She reached for her forehead but found herself encased in liquid—
She was still in the spherical device, her consciousness restored.
Glancing aside, she saw Cecil Ronin floating in his own device, eyes closed but brows twitching, on the verge of waking.
Baisha maneuvered gracefully to the floor. Cen Haiyun, stationed by the device, hurried to open its barrier and assist her out.
"Your Highness, you're finally awake," Cen Haiyun said, relief mixed with faint worry. "You and His Majesty were in there for six hours—far longer than expected."
Baisha coughed, clearing her throat of moisture, her voice hoarse. "Six hours?"
"Yes," Cen Haiyun confirmed. "But user feedback suggests time in the virtual space flows two to three times slower than outside."
No wonder, Baisha thought. It felt like ages in that forest, especially waiting from "dawn" to "dusk" for the blue bird.
Soon, Cecil Ronin stirred, his expression dazed, fingers massaging his brow, his pallor stark.
He exhaled deeply. "Why do I feel like I had an exhausting dream?"
Baisha: "…"
You're not the one nearly plucked bald!
Cen Haiyun reviewed the devices' data, confirming their health, and smiled at Cecil. "Six hours and significant mental exertion naturally cause fatigue. Rest will restore you. But the outcome is excellent—Her Highness should have awakened her avatar."
At this, Cecil paused his brow-rubbing, and Jilun, ever vigilant, glanced subtly at Baisha.
Under their expectant gazes, Baisha frowned. "I don't feel anything special—"
No, there was something.
She clenched her fist.
An undeniable, potent force coursed through her. Her senses sharpened—she could envision tracing each raindrop's arc in a storm. Her mental perception, too…
Seeing her pensive, Cen Haiyun soothed, "You likely saw your avatar in the virtual world. Picture it and summon it before you."
Baisha focused. A pearlescent ripple shimmered before her chest.
From it emerged a sprightly white bird, its fluffy feathers snow-white, black eyes like beads, with faint black edging its back, tail, and wings. Adorably rotund, it twirled in the air before alighting on her palm.
Like a fuzzy dumpling.
She tapped its head. The bird nuzzled her finger, eyes bright.
"So it's you," Baisha murmured. "We've finally met."
This bird had shielded her countless times, unformed.
"Chirp, chirp, chirp."
Its soft, rapid calls filled her with warmth and joy, as if they were soul-bound partners.
Baisha played with it, only to notice the room's eerie silence. Looking up, she found everyone—Cen Haiyun included—staring at her bird, stunned.
"What… how?" Cen Haiyun, flustered, rechecked her data. "Based on Her Highness's mental fluctuations, her avatar should be…"
She glanced at the tablet, then the bird, speechless.
Baisha turned to her uncle. Cecil Ronin, too, gazed at her avatar, lost in thought.
"What species is this?" he asked, his tone grave.
"It resembles a silver-throated long-tailed tit," Cen Haiyun said, dazed, searching the Imperial avatar database. After a pause, she added hesitantly, "…No such avatar has been recorded in the Empire."
So, the Empire's only silver-throated tit?
Baisha ruffled her bird's head. Thankfully, her "Little White Chirp" looked plush, not the patchy wreck from the virtual world.
Cecil fell silent, digesting the revelation.
"What's wrong?" Baisha asked. "Is something off?"
Cen Haiyun pursed her lips, reluctant. "Historically, royal avatars are consistently the mythical Blackbird…"
"I've seen fragments of Her Highness's avatar before," Jilun interjected. "They resembled the Blackbird's traits, but not… this delicate."
Baisha caught their strained expressions, recalling a passage from A Brief History of the Empire.
In the Aresian Empire, while no official link tied avatar size to mental strength, cultural belief held that larger, fiercer avatars signaled greater power. All Imperials were formidable, but strength varied. To gauge someone's might, one often looked first at their avatar.
Baisha: "…"
So, her Little White Chirp was being judged?
Sensing her mood, the bird chirped softly.
"Her Highness's royal blood is undeniable, but something went awry…" Cen Haiyun frowned. "Could malnutrition alter the avatar's species? That seems unlikely."
Cecil's deep blue eyes met Baisha's, carrying an emotion she couldn't parse—not disappointment, anger, or disdain, but a faint melancholy.
"If a parent's avatar was damaged, could the child's mutate?" he asked abruptly.
Cen Haiyun pondered, then answered cautiously, "It's possible."
The Ronin genes' dominance was legendary. Baisha's resemblance to Cecil proved her royal heritage.
"Perhaps the awakening process faltered," Cen Haiyun suggested, her voice rising as she eyed the devices. "They recorded your virtual experience, including the avatar's formation. If an anomaly occurred, we'd see it—and might still correct it."
She projected the data onto dual screens, displaying Baisha's and Cecil's perspectives.
Their virtual sojourn was lengthy. Baisha, initially a misty wraith, wandered the forest, encountering no one. Cecil's avatar, a resplendent blue Blackbird, gleamed with iridescent feathers. Sensing its purpose, it began… nest-building.
It was no architect. Material selection and weaving failed repeatedly. After countless tries, it crafted a passable nest, only to kick it apart for not being "pretty enough," opting for vibrant, supple vines.
The Blackbird's fastidiousness was staggering. By the time the nest was complete, night had fallen.
Cecil: "…"
Onlookers: "…"
Realizing no chick had appeared, the Blackbird flew to a stream, calling to summon it.
Baisha arrived then, naturally forming as a silver-throated tit—despite the Blackbird's presence.
Her avatar was inherently this.
Silence reigned. The footage rolled on, revealing the Blackbird's near-balding of Little White Chirp, Baisha's futile protests, and her desperate headbutt that snapped them awake.
"…Clearly, Her Highness retained consciousness during awakening," Cen Haiyun coughed, breaking the awkward hush. "That's highly unusual."
Typically, losing rationality, as Cecil did, was the device's norm.
Cen Haiyun's remark was a polite save for the Emperor's dignity. As a researcher, she'd overseen many awakenings, but none matched Cecil's parental ineptitude.
Cecil's face, post-footage, was faintly green.
"Forget it," Baisha said, letting Little White Chirp perch on her shoulder. "A silver-throated tit is fine."
Cen Haiyun eyed the bird, conceding its charm.
Jilun nodded calmly, endorsing her stance.
Only Cecil seemed displeased, though his demeanor toward Baisha softened. He extended a hand to her shoulder. "Come here."
Little White Chirp quivered, burrowing into Baisha's neck, pretending not to hear.
Cecil: "…"
He stared at Baisha, expressionless.
Avatars reflected their owners—Baisha, too, was wary, likely scarred by the plucking.
Baisha met his gaze innocently. Behind Cecil, a translucent blue Blackbird materialized, preening elegantly.
Compared to Little White Chirp, it was colossal.
The Blackbird glided to Baisha, gently lifting the cowering tit with its beak, this time sparing its feathers.
Seconds later, the tit relaxed, chattering with the Blackbird, their bond warming.
A soft growl sounded at Baisha's feet. Jilun's black panther had joined the fray.
Spotting it, Little White Chirp soared, circled the panther, and perched atop its head, folding its wings contentedly. The panther, cautious not to startle it, lay down, its tail tapping lightly.
Cen Haiyun laughed. "Her Highness's avatar may be small, but it's fearless." Unfazed by a feline predator.
Cecil: "…"
He and his Blackbird exchanged a wordless glance, both at a loss.
With her avatar awakened, Baisha underwent further tests to assess her mental strength.
Though only a tiny bird graced her shoulder, her physique and mental prowess surged. Cen Haiyun was astounded.
Malnutrition's effects had nearly vanished—every cell, even in her hair, thrummed with vitality. Baisha glowed, a polished pearl, her presence rivaling Cecil's.
Her mental strength hit triple-S, maxing the gauge, beyond precise measurement.
Cecil asked, "How do you feel?"
Stepping from the tester, Baisha paused.
She yearned to spar, to unleash this energy.
Though she'd aimed to be a mech engineer, she'd trained in combat and dabbled in mech piloting, eager to test her limits.
Cecil noted the spark in her eyes, nodding. "Good. Hold onto that drive and keep pushing."
"Can I attend an Imperial military academy?" Baisha asked.
"Of course," Cecil replied. "But first, we'll confirm your chief minister and select your guard."
Her non-Blackbird avatar surprised him, but it solidified his resolve to find a reliable protector.
One step at a time. Baisha's interest in the academy pleased Cecil, who arranged her meeting with Han Xiao that day to secure the chief minister role.
The next day, via Cecil's arrangement, Baisha met Han Xiao in her palace's study. The Emperor was absent.
Han Xiao wore a tailored navy suit, exuding the poised elegance from his photos. His clear brow and deep blue eyes held a cool, lucid calm.
"Good afternoon, Your Highness," he said, pausing briefly at Little White Chirp before continuing smoothly. "By His Majesty's decree, I'll serve as your chief minister, temporarily."
As nephew to cabinet leader Han Xi, Han Xiao could decline without issue, and Baisha wouldn't press him.
But "temporarily" caught her off guard.
"What does 'temporarily' mean?" she asked.
"I won't refuse you, Your Highness," Han Xiao said frankly. "But a chief minister is vital. Should you find a better fit, you're free to choose."
The Empire's highest authority, beyond the Emperor, was the Congress, wielding legislative power. The Privy Council, created by the Emperor for state affairs, held judicial and oversight roles. The Cabinet, streamlined from the Privy Council, comprised elite talents, some entrusted with military and political powers.
An unwritten rule held that the heir's chief minister often became the next cabinet leader. Yet Wei Li, Cecil's chief minister, now led the Privy Council, handling legal affairs, a step below cabinet leadership. Why? Han Xi, the current cabinet leader, had served Sipes Ronin.
Cecil's choice of Han Xiao was deliberate. The Han family's prestige and distant ties to Baisha ensured compliance and protection. He aimed for Baisha to leverage their influence.
Han Xiao's stance was clear: Use me, but don't owe me the cabinet's helm.
Baisha distrusted free gifts.
"If our interests aren't aligned, how can I trust your full support?" Her fingers tapped the desk. "Or does House Han doubt me, withdrawing from the next throne contest early?"
Han Xiao blinked, then met her gaze, his voice steady and clear.
"Your Highness, my reason is simple: House Han stands with you, regardless of your favor."
"You needn't pay a price for my loyalty."