Chapter Six: The Envoy of Lies

The Hall of Blossoms gleamed with an ethereal radiance. Towering jade pillars, intricately carved with delicate lotus motifs, stretched gracefully upward, supporting a ceiling that resembled the celestial expanse above—each star meticulously dusted in powdered silver, while majestic dragons and elegant phoenixes danced across the surface in shimmering gold leaf. Lanterns flickered with a mesmerizing foxfire, their steady, otherworldly glow illuminating the space without casting a single shadow. Rows of courtiers knelt in reverent silence, their heads lowered to the cool, polished marble floor, creating a sea of muted colors and stillness that heightened the hall's enchanting atmosphere.

Upon the elevated dais, bathed in the soft glow of flickering lanterns, sat Lián Xuě, the revered Lotus Empress. She wore flowing robes of pure white silk, intricately embroidered with delicate lotus petals that shimmered like ethereal light, as if they held a quiet magic of their own. At her sides stood her four formidable Queens, each an embodiment of her unique lineage.

Meixiu, the Vampire Queen, exuded an aura of chilling elegance. Her skin was pale as moonlight, seeming almost translucent in the dim light, while her piercing crimson gaze held an icy intensity that could freeze the heart of the bravest warrior.

Ahyoka, the Werewolf Queen, commanded attention with her fierce presence. Her golden eyes glimmered like molten bronze, radiating strength and wild spirit. With her powerful arms folded across her chest, she emanated a restrained energy, akin to a coiled spring, poised to unleash its ferocity at a moment's notice.

Akiko, the Kitsune Queen, was a vision of grace and mystique. The subtle movement of her nine luxurious tails created a mesmerizing dance, each tail flowing with a rhythm that seemed to echo the whispers of ancient spirits and forgotten tales, a testament to her deep, otherworldly connection.

Selene, the Succubus Queen, stood before all with an enchanting allure that was almost palpable, her gaze shimmering with a seductive, faintly glowing crimson flame that whispered of both peril and irresistible desire. Her presence was cloaked in a rich, velvety aura, a paradox that was at once daunting yet irresistibly inviting. This mesmerizing contradiction enticed the unwary to approach, drawing them into her orbit, even as a silent warning echoed of the dark depths concealed beneath her captivating veneer. Shadows danced in the corners of her expression, hinting at mysteries untold, while her delicate yet commanding form exuded a confidence that both entranced and unsettled, leaving those who dared to meet her gaze questioning their own desires.

The massive doors swung open with a resonant creak, revealing a scene that crackled with palpable tension. The American envoy strode forward with an air of confidence, flanked by a formidable dozen guards clad in drab green uniforms that contrasted sharply with the vibrancy of the Hall. Behind them trailed a throng of men and women, their cameras glinting like hungry eyes, heavy microphones bobbing as they moved, and tangled wires draped across their shoulders like intricate vines.

As they stepped across the threshold, an enchanting response swept through the Hall; ethereal foxfire hissed and flickered, the air thickening with an otherworldly energy. Lenses erupted in fog, and every electronic device shuddered, as if it had been ensnared by an invisible force, trapped in a timeless grasp.

The envoy's face flushed crimson, sweat beading on his brow and glistening in the soft, lotus-lit glow that bathed the room in an otherworldly ambiance. He was a portly man in his fifties, his ill-fitting suit hanging awkwardly on his frame, and his tie askew as if it had seen better days. Nevertheless, he entered with an air of authority, striding confidently as though the grandeur of the Hall were an extension of his own domain.

At the foot of the grand dais, he halted, his gaze lifting to meet Xuě’s, standing tall and unwavering—refusing to kneel.

“I am Ambassador John Harker,” he declared with a robust voice, projecting it deliberately for the cameras that blinked like watchful eyes. “I come in the name of the President of the United States.” His tone was firm, laced with an air of authority. “Before we proceed, I must voice my strong protest. This arrangement is utterly unacceptable.”

A wave of hushed gasps rippled through the gathered courtiers, their astonished murmurs swiftly subdued by a tense, expectant silence.

Harker gestured with a sweeping motion toward the ornate dais, his expression a mix of determination and indignation. “We are here as equals,” he declared firmly, his voice resonating through the chamber. “Placing me and my delegation beneath the throne is a slight that cannot be overlooked. My President will not stand for his envoy being treated as anything less than paramount.”

Ahyoka’s growl reverberated through the chamber like the rugged roll of distant thunder, a primal sound that filled the air with an undercurrent of tension. Meixiu’s crimson eyes, bright as freshly spilled blood, glinted with mischief, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles, secretive and knowing. Akiko’s nine tails flickered like flames, the ethereal foxfire hissing and crackling with her barely contained amusement, casting playful shadows against the stone walls.

Selene leaned in close to Xuě, her voice dripping with velvet-like seduction, laced with an undercurrent of restrained danger, “He demands equality in your hall,” she purred, each word dripping with menace.

Lián Xuě remained seated, her posture unyielding. She merely tilted her chin with regal grace, her gaze heavy and piercing like jade carved from the earth’s deepest depths. When she spoke, her voice flowed like a deep, resonant bell, calm yet imbued with the weight of authority.

“In this grand hall,” she declared, her voice echoing against the soaring walls, “you will kneel before the throne. All who enter here do so. To suggest otherwise would be a grave misstep, a display not of diplomacy but of sheer arrogance. You are nothing more than a mere talking piece in this game, and I am the ruler of this domain; we are not equals.”

Harker's posture tensed, a flush of crimson creeping across his cheeks as he spoke, his voice firm and unwavering. “This moment will be transmitted back to our home country. The President himself is watching intently. If you desire peace, I urge you to treat us with the dignity we deserve. The cameras are recording every detail. The world is poised to witness this affront.”

David’s voice resonated within her, incredulous and laced with disbelief. He truly believes he holds the reins in this situation. With an air of misplaced authority, he has ushered a film crew into a dimly lit room adorned with flickering foxfire lanterns, casting an ethereal glow that dances across the walls. It’s as if he hasn’t even grasped the significance of his surroundings, immersing himself in a world steeped in history and mystery, unaware of the weight of the moment he has stepped into.

Xuě's lips curled ever so slightly, a delicate movement that suggested the faintest whisper of a smile — elusive and enigmatic. “Then let your world bear witness,” she declared, her voice steady and resonant. “Let them see what true sovereignty truly looks like, with all its grace and power.”

With a deft flick of her fingers, the foxfire lanterns ignited into brilliant flames, casting a luminous glow that poured through the hall like liquid gold. The radiance was so dazzling and ethereal that every mortal eye squinted in response, overwhelmed by the intensity.

The American camera crew spread out like a meticulous flock, their heavy equipment soaring toward the heavens, lenses shimmering under the ethereal glow of the foxfire lanterns. Unlike mortal torches that flicker and shift, these supernatural flames burned steadily, casting an otherworldly light over the scene. The cameras, steadfast and unwavering, captured every delicate bow, every furtive glance, and every whispered breath in the exquisite Hall of Blossoms. Each moment, steeped in beauty and anticipation, was being immortalized for an audience far beyond the palace walls, connecting distant realms with the vibrant life unfolding within.

Ambassador John Harker lifted his chin defiantly, beads of perspiration glistening on his temple like tiny pearls. His voice resonated through the chamber, clear and unwavering, as he addressed the gathered crowd of diplomats and press. “Let it be known,” he proclaimed, each word imbued with intensity, “that the United States came here with the banner of peace — only to be met with insult and disregard. We sit below, treated as inferiors in this assembly. This is not the language of equals.” The weight of his words hung in the air, punctuated by the tension that enveloped the hall.

Whispers coursed like a hidden river among the courtiers, but none summoned the courage to lift their eyes from the polished marble floor. Meixiu’s crimson gaze blazed with a fierce intensity, her voice flowing like a polished blade of silk, sharp and lethal. “You stand before the revered Lotus Empress and dare to refuse her command to kneel. Is it you who speaks of insult? In your arrogance, you belittle every soul within this vast empire, tarnishing their honor with your pride.”

Ahyoka's lips curled in a fierce snarl, her voice reverberating through the air like an approaching storm. “If you were my messenger,” she growled, “I would seize you by the throat and hurl you back across the mountains.”

Harker, seemingly unfazed by the threat, remained focused on the array of cameras. His voice was steady and unwavering as he replied, “All we seek is the respect that is due to a sovereign nation.”

Lián Xuě leaned forward with an elegant grace, the delicate fabric of her robes rustling softly against the smooth surface of the jade dais. Her eyes shimmered with a subtle luminescence, embodying the enchanting glow of lotus fire as they reflected a depth of wisdom and resolve. She spoke with a serene confidence, each word carefully articulated and imbued with a resonant power that lingered in the air, ensuring that her message was unmistakably clear to all who listened.

"The Lotus Empire, a venerable realm steeped in five centuries of history, emerged majestically as my banners unfurled upon the rugged peaks of the western mountains, long before your fledgling colonies took form. While my people, through the harmonious blend of qi and the melodic whispers of river-song, sculpted grand cities that stood resilient against the test of time, your republic had not yet drawn its first breath, lingering only as a distant aspiration. In the tapestry of honor and esteem, respect cannot simply be commanded; it must be diligently earned through deeds and integrity. Yet, as it stands, your President has yet to grasp the essence of this vital truth."

The envoy's lips were pressed together in a tight, resolute line, but he raised his voice once more, allowing anger to seep into his tone. His words, fiery and passionate, were directed at the cameras capturing every moment, rather than at her. “Our President has pledged to reclaim these lands!” he declared, his voice echoing with conviction. “He has asserted that your so-called empire is built upon stolen soil. And the people of America stand behind him!”

David’s voice reverberated within her, cutting through the air with an edge of disbelief. It was as if he had picked up a familiar, cynical playbook reminiscent of those chaotic days during Trump’s reign in her world. Twist the truth, amplify the distortions, and let the cameras capture the spectacle, crafting a façade that many would accept as reality.

Lián Xuě's piercing gaze suddenly intensified, her expression unwavering as she delivered her words with a quiet but palpable intensity. The oppressive silence that ensued lingered in the air, making her statement resonate far deeper than any shout could have accomplished.

“History is not a mere plaything for your President to manipulate,” she asserted, her voice steady and dripping with conviction. “These lands have never belonged to America — not for a year, not for a day, not even for a fleeting heartbeat. You may twist your tongue into deceptive narratives for the sake of your people, but here, in this moment, unvarnished truth stands unchallenged before me.”

She raised her hand gracefully, and the foxfire lanterns erupted into a dazzling blaze, casting a warm, ethereal glow that danced across the intricate carvings etched into the rich jade walls. Each mural came alive, telling the storied history of five centuries under the reign of the Lotus Empire — majestic empresses adorned with ornate crowns, sprawling cities brought to life by visionary architects, and fierce battles fought and won long before the first American flag was ever stitched together. The vivid scenes seemed to whisper secrets of a glorious past, inviting her to step deeper into the legacy that shaped this remarkable realm.

“Let your cameras capture this moment,” she declared, her voice ringing with conviction. “Let your world witness the truth that your President chooses to deny. The Lotus Empire stands eternal, unwavering in the face of adversity. We do not bow to tyranny.”

The envoy faltered, his confidence crumbling as beads of sweat cascaded down his brow. He averted his gaze to the images displayed before him — hauntingly vivid proof, intricately carved in stone, compelling in its stark reality.

The envoy’s jaw clenched tight as the cameras drew nearer, their red lights blinking like unblinking eyes. He straightened his tie, the fabric feeling taut against his collar, and summoned every ounce of confidence into his posture. “Your people may believe your narrative,” he said, his voice steady despite the palpable tension in the air, “but the United States stands as the most powerful nation in the modern world." He paused for effect, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing, “If you seek peace, you must treat us as equals. My President has solemnly vowed to reclaim this land—”

Lián Xuě slowly raised her hand, and an almost palpable hush enveloped the grand hall. The chatter and laughter faded into oblivion, leaving an eerie stillness that hung in the air, heavy and expectant. Even the camera crew, usually so busy capturing the unfolding drama, halted their movements as if time itself had paused, captivated by the weight of the moment.

“Your President swears countless promises,” she said with a calm intensity, her voice steady and unwavering. “Yet oaths alone do not transform falsehoods into reality. The Lotus Empire has stood proud long before your republic ever saw the light of day. Before your flag was woven together, my throne was painstakingly sculpted from the finest materials. Long before your soldiers took their first steps onto the battlefield, my vibrant banners unfurled in the winds, proclaiming the enduring legacy of my reign.”

With a regal grace, she ascended from her throne, a slow, deliberate movement that commanded the attention of all present. Her loyal Queens gracefully stepped back, forming a protective circle that emphasized her solitude at the center of the grand hall. The fabric of her robes glimmered like the surface of a tranquil lake at dawn, each embroidered petal radiating with vibrant lotus fire, casting a warm glow that danced in the air around her. The envoy, momentarily taken aback, faltered a step, his expression a mask of practiced composure, though the flicker of surprise in his eyes was unmistakable as the cameras captured every fleeting moment.

“You demand equality,” she continued, her voice resonating through the expansive hall like a striking bell, echoing in every shadowy corner. “Yet you refuse to kneel in the presence of emperors, kings, and the ageless immortals who have bowed their heads in reverence. You speak of insult, but it is you who desecrates centuries of tradition. Tell me, Ambassador—” as she spoke, her emerald eyes locked onto his, glinting with a fierce intensity, sharp as finely honed jade blades, “what was that name of yours again?”

He swallowed hard, a nervous tension evident in the way his throat moved. “Ambassador… John Harker,” he managed to say, his voice steadying as he spoke the name with a mix of reverence and apprehension.

Her unwavering gaze pierced the air between them, a silent proclamation of resolve. “Then, John Harker,” she declared with an echoing certainty, “let the annals of history forever etch this moment into their pages. You have crossed the threshold of the Hall of Blossoms, the venerable seat of the Lotus Empress, embodying the legacy of five centuries of unyielding sovereignty… and yet, you stand defiantly, refusing to kneel.”

Gasps of astonishment echoed among the courtiers, their faces a tapestry of shock and disbelief. The whir of cameras filled the air, capturing every moment of this dramatic spectacle. With an elegant flick of her wrist, Lian commanded the space around her, compelling Ambassador Harker to his knees as if he were a puppet under her control. The tension hung thick, charged with anticipation, as the assembly witnessed the extraordinary display of power.

“Let your President witness this recording,” she continued, her voice resolute and measured, each word weighted with significance. “Let him behold his envoy, standing before me, arrogant yet diminutive, a mere shadow against the backdrop of truth. Let him perceive the man who declared equality, yet trembled like a frightened child when confronted with undeniable reality. Allow him to gaze upon the evidence etched into these ancient walls, and understand that his deceit cannot obliterate what is immortal—stone, fire, and the relentless passage of time.”

Harker's face turned a deep scarlet, as if he were engulfed by flames. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, glistening under the harsh lights. His mouth opened wide in an attempt to form words, but only silence emerged, amplifying the tension in the air. The cameras captured every moment — the way his confidence crumbled, leaving him exposed and vulnerable, as her calm, commanding presence enveloped the room, extinguishing the arrogance that had once filled him.

Meixiu’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, a mere curve that promised mischief and malice. Ahyoka’s golden eyes sparkled with a fiery satisfaction, reflecting the thrill of the moment as if the very sun had ignited within them. Akiko’s graceful tails flicked playfully behind her, a whisper of quiet amusement dancing in the air like a teasing breeze. Meanwhile, Selene’s gaze lingered intensely on the envoy, her eyes deep with hunger and challenge, as if she were daring him to utter another word, a predator poised to pounce at the slightest provocation.

Lián Xuě turned her back on him, silk whispering as she sat once more upon her throne. “Take your cameras. Take your lies. Tell your President this: the Lotus Empire does not kneel. Not to him. Not to anyone.”

The envoy remained motionless, a cold wave of humiliation washing over him as he felt the piercing stares of the immortals surrounding him. Their ageless eyes seemed to penetrate his very soul, and he could almost feel their disdain. At the same time, the relentless gaze of his own machines loomed nearby, their metallic surfaces reflecting a cold, unyielding light that intensified his discomfort.

Inside her, David's voice echoed with a blend of admiration and incredulity, whispering softly, **“You didn’t just beat him… You utterly obliterated him. On his very own stage.”**

A subtle smile tugged at the corners of her lips, barely noticeable yet brimming with a quiet confidence. **“That,”** she breathed softly in response, her voice like the delicate rustle of leaves in the wind, **“is how you crush a lie.”**

The envoy swayed unsteadily, his face flushed a deep crimson, a vivid testament to his overwhelming humiliation. His lips moved in a desperate struggle to form words, but no sound escaped, leaving a haunting silence in the air. The cameras, relentless in their scrutiny, captured every stammer and the glistening beads of sweat that trickled down his brow. Frustration surged within him, and with an abrupt snap of his fingers, he gestured sharply to the crew. “We’re done here,” he declared, his voice strained. “Cut the feed.”

But before they could take a single step, a new voice resonated — not from the bustling hall, but deep within Lián Xuě’s very soul.

“Don’t send them away,” David urged, his voice urgent and imbued with fervor. “Let the cameras remain. They arrived here with the expectation of portraying you as a tyrant, a feared despot cloaked in shadow. But what if, instead, they unveil the raw truth? Allow the world to witness the essence of this empire in all its splendor. The exquisite beauty that pulses through its streets, the rich tapestry of history woven into its walls, the formidable power that reverberates through its foundations. Don’t merely combat his fabrications — obliterate them beneath the weight of reality.”

Lián Xuě’s delicate fingers paused, hovering over the intricately carved armrest of the throne, the polished wood cool against her skin. Her Queens exchanged furtive glances, an unspoken understanding passing between them as they felt the subtle shift in her qi, the very essence of her presence altering the atmosphere around them.

With deliberate slowness, she raised her hand, a graceful yet commanding motion that seemed to command the very air in the hall. The guards, standing resolute, went rigid, their tension palpable as they awaited her next command. The cameras captured it all, the bright lights reflecting off their lenses, eager to document this moment.

“Stay,” she declared, her voice ringing out like a clarion call, reverberating off the stone walls of the grand chamber. “Let them see.” Her words hung in the air, heavy with authority, ensuring that every soul present understood the weight of her command.

The envoy spun around, his face draining of color, a mix of shock and disbelief etched across his features. “What—? No, this was not part of our agreement. You can’t—” His voice trembled, laden with urgency and a hint of desperation, as he struggled to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before him.

Her piercing gaze held him in thrall, rendering him utterly speechless. “This is my hall — my empire,” she declared, her voice resonating with authority. “You sought to project arrogance, but now you will unveil a different narrative: the truth. Let your world witness the true essence of the Lotus Empire, and let them draw a stark comparison to the fabrications spun by your President.”

She made a graceful gesture, and in an instant, the foxfire lanterns ignited with an ethereal glow, illuminating the intricate murals of jade and gold that adorned the walls. These vivid depictions narrated the storied legacy of five centuries of regal rule, each brushstroke alive with history. The courtiers, regal figures draped in sumptuous fabrics, raised their heads, their expressions serene and composed, their faces aglow with the pride of their illustrious lineage. Beyond the opulent throne, tall arched windows cast their gaze upon the enchanting lotus gardens, where rivers sparkled like diamonds under the sun, and the laughter of children drifted softly from the vibrant courtyards below, mingling with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.

The cameras immortalized every moment — not an oppressive regime, nor the theft of ancestral lands, but rather a vibrant kingdom infused with enchantment and adorned by centuries of flourishing wealth and culture.

David’s voice resonated with a sense of wonder, filling her from within like the warm glow of dawn breaking through the darkness. This is it. This is how you emerge victorious. Not through a clash of fists fueled by rage, but by illuminating the truth with such radiant brilliance that it becomes impossible to overlook.

Lián Xuě’s lips curled into a delicate smile, her eyes sparkling with the vibrant glint of lotus fire. With an elegant motion, she pivoted gracefully to face the envoy, embodying poise and intrigue.

“You brought your cameras as instruments of power,” she stated, her voice a soothing green like untouched jade, yet edged with the piercing clarity of freshly forged steel. “Now, they belong to me. Let the world bear witness to what remains standing when the weight of deceit finally disintegrates.”

The envoy’s face twisted in a mask of helpless rage, his features contorting with the weight of frustration. Yet, he found himself powerless to act, a mere pawn in a grand performance. The relentless cameras whirred and clicked, capturing every moment, savoring the opulence of the Lotus Empire while simultaneously etching his own humiliation into the annals of public memory. Each shot seemed to revel in his discomfort, a lasting testament to his defeat for the world to witness.