It was past midnight. Taylin Mountain shimmered under the cold, silver moonlight. Han Wuang shi walked silently and unmoving down a desolate, scorched path. The ground beneath his feet was black and burned; the surrounding trees stood like charred skeletons, stripped of all life. There was no greenery... no leaf, no grass, not even a single breath of life. Only silence, so profound it felt almost alive.

  The blackened trees resembled the corpses of the forest, still standing in mourning. Yet Han Wuang shi did not falter. He continued walking, step after steady step, until the ruins of the Lianxiao clan finally came into view.

  The once-sacred halls, the grand training grounds, the academy of divine wisdom... all lay in ashes. The holy grounds that once echoed with music and chants were now consumed by darkness. There was no life left... no voice, not even a whisper of air.

  Han Wuang shi entered directly through the main gate. Near the Lotus Pond, which had long since dried up and turned to dust, he paused.

  Every time he returned, regardless of the season... be it freezing cold or burning heat, day or night... he would plant lotus seeds in that ruined pond. It was his ritual, his quiet hope that one day, a single lotus might bloom again. But forty-five years had passed, and that day had never arrived.

  His eyes were wet, filled with a pain that originated not from his body but from his soul. It was as though something deep within him was begging, screaming to weep, but he held it back, forcing his heart into silence.

  He looked down at the pond again, at the earth where no seed had ever sprouted. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but his face remained composed.

  Yet, how long can a grieving soul maintain its composure?

  As he walked forward, his foot struck a stone. He stumbled, fell, and cut his leg. Even as pain shot through him, Han Wuang shi did not cry out. He rose quietly and continued walking. Though his eyes could hold back tears, his soul could not stop the memories.

  ---

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Flashback

  The Guang Yin Dian, the most sacred hall of the Lianxiao clan, the birthplace of cultivation and divine music.

  The hall throbbed with energy and cheers.

  A fierce duel was in progress between Gu Zong and Han Wuang shi.

  On one side, the Han Qiantian clan roared with thunderous pride. Han Wuang shi’s brothers, Han Lao Fang and Han Zaoshi, stood at the forefront. Han Zaoshi shouted from his seat, his voice brimming with excitement: “Big Brother, you’re amazing! You’re definitely going to win!”

  Across the arena, the Lianxiao clan watched with equal passion. Gu Zong’s siblings, Zhuang Hue and Jun Wan, cheered with all their hearts. Zhuang Hue yelled at the top of his lungs: “Brother! If you lose to that eldest son, you won’t get dinner for a whole week!”

  The crowd burst into laughter.

  Down in the open courtyard of the Guang Yin Dian, two blades clashed... a sound like thunder tearing the sky apart.

  Both warriors were evenly matched. Their swords cut through the air, striking with fierce precision, yet neither had managed to land a blow on the other. Each wore a Victor’s Seal tied around their waist; whoever lost the seal first would lose the duel.

  Gu Zong lunged sharply, his blade grazing Han Wuang shi’s belt but missing the rope by an inch. Han Wuang shi countered, their eyes locking... intense, unblinking, as if the entire world had narrowed to that single heartbeat.

  Then, amidst that clash, Han Wuang shi leaned close and whispered something... a quick, subtle strategy only Gu Zong could hear.

  Gu Zong’s lips curved into a faint smile. He understood.

  No one else noticed. It all happened in a breath.

  The next instant, Gu Zong swung his sword toward Han Wuang shi’s neck. Han Wuang shi dodged back, just as planned, and in that movement, Gu Zong’s blade flicked backward, slicing cleanly through the rope of the Victor’s Seal at Han Wuang shi’s waist.

  The match was decided.

  Gu Zong had won.

  The Han clan’s cheers died into silence, while the Lianxiao clan erupted with joy. Zhuang Hue and Jun Wan shouted in triumph, their laughter filling the air.

  But no one was happier than Han Wuang shi himself. He smiled quietly, his heart light and free... as if by losing, he had won the entire world.

  And Gu Zong saw it. He saw the warmth in Han Wuang shi’s eyes and understood.

  As they turned to return to their clans, their eyes met one last time. There was no pride of victory, no sorrow of defeat... only the unspoken joy of two souls standing close, a bond far more precious than any triumph.

  End of Flashback