Lingqi had been thoroughly engrossed in the scroll that Gao had gifted him. It was an ancient manuscript, a compendium that detailed the storied history of warlords who had once ruled the lands before the dawn of the Jade Sovereignty. Among them, one warlord stood out as a beacon of inspiration for him.

His name was Zheng Hong.

Zheng Hong was a fierce and bloodthirsty leader who governed a province bordering the Khalkans to the south. He was the scourge of the nomadic tribes, repelling their forces at every turn with relentless ferocity. Lingqi thought of his home, the once bustling farmland now stripped of life. If only someone like Zheng Hong had existed when his village was attacked, then…

"Lingqi, how has your training been?" Elder Zhu's voice broke through his thoughts, gentle and polite.

Lingqi blinked, snapping back to the present as he shifted in his seat. He glanced at Elder Zhu, who was guiding the horses with steady hands. "It's going well," the teen said simply, though his eyes were glazed with contemplation. "I've learned a lot."

"That's wonderful to hear," Elder Zhu smiled warmly. "And what is it that you are studying now?"

Lingqi stole a glance at the scroll and shifted once more. "I am learning about the Warlord of the Southern Plains, Zheng Hong," he couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

"Warlord?" Elder Zhu repeated, a hint of concern in his tone.

"Yes, warlord," Lingqi replied, confused by the elder's sudden shift in mood.

"And tell me, why are you interested in the Warlords of old?" Elder Zhu's voice was neutral now.

"Well," Lingqi began, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "They were all strong. Very strong. And one of them, Zheng Hong, he protected his people from the Khalkans..."

"And you want to do the same," Elder Zhu finished, his tone sharp.

Lingqi was taken aback, feeling as if he had done something wrong.

"You have the potential to be great, Lingqi," the elder continued, his voice soft and reassuring. "But the path you seek to follow will only lead to bloodshed and death."

Lingqi’s brows knitted together, a surge of heat flushing through his chest. "I don't 'seek' bloodshed and death. I just..." His voice faltered, eyes stinging with unshed tears as memories of his village flooded back. The faces of those he lost flashed before him. "I just don't want others to suffer like I did," he whispered, the pain in his voice palpable.

A brief silence ensued, filled only with the sounds of the caravan rolling along the paved road.

"And I know the tenets. Conflict is the root of despair. I know," Lingqi quickly added.

"And desire is the root of conflict," Elder Zhu continued. "Your desire to protect others from the pain you have felt is indeed admirable, yet such desires will inevitably lead to conflict."

Lingqi pursed his lips, the heat in his chest rising once more. "What do you think the Sovereignty will do about it?" His biting remark was sharper than he intended, but Elder Zhu remained unperturbed.

"The Sovereignty will seek to negotiate a peaceful solution. As it should," the elder replied evenly.

"What if they can't? What if the Khalkans don't want peace?" Lingqi pressed.

"Then the Sovereignty will try again. And again. Until we can find a way to end the conflict without violence," Elder Zhu calmly answered.

"And how long will that take?" Lingqi's voice sharpened with frustration, his chest burning with each word.

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"As long as it must," Elder Zhu replied.

Lingqi gripped his scroll, knuckles white with tension. "And what will happen to the people who have no protection against the Khalkans?"

Elder Zhu reined his horse to a trot, sensing the tension in the air. From Lingqi's angle, the elder’s expression was unreadable. "Did your scroll tell you how many lives perished during the reign of the Warlords?" he asked.

Lingqi was jolted by the question. "I-it didn't mention a number..."

"There is a reason for that," Elder Zhu explained. "Millions. Do not let the scope numb you to the reality of such a tragedy. Millions of people died in the chaos. Women, children, and men alike. If the Jade Sovereignty chose to incite a conflict, then millions would die again. Do you understand?"

Lingqi’s face flushed as he sank into his seat, fingers tightening around the scroll.

"The Warlords sought conquest and domination, not protection. Even those who fought to protect their lands began to desire more power, justifying their actions with a need for defense," Elder Zhu continued.

"But Zheng Hong...he was different..." Lingqi tried to reason, but his voice was soft and defeated.

"Even Zheng Hong. He fought the Khalkans for decades, but even he sought to ally with them to siege the city of Huadu and sack it for its wealth," Elder Zhu revealed matter-of-factly.

Lingqi opened his scroll, searching to corroborate the elder's claim. He found the entry regarding the siege: a battle between Zheng Hong's forces and the capital of Huadu, under the protection of a rival warlord. The Khalkans were part of Zheng Hong's army, and the siege was ultimately a failure.

The teen frowned and closed the scroll, setting it aside.

"The Sovereignty is careful with the cultivation and education of their people," Elder Zhu continued. "To avoid the mistakes of the Warlords, the Sovereignty sought to change the way people thought, rather than to subjugate them. They wanted their subjects to believe in a common goal. To foster a sense of brotherhood, of equality."

Lingqi's shoulders slackened, the heat in his chest ebbing away. "I apologize for speaking out of turn, Elder Zhu. Please forgive me," he said, bowing his head low.

"There is nothing to forgive," Elder Zhu smiled warmly. "You are a young and vibrant boy with an inquisitive mind. You want to do the right thing. But understand the importance of restraint. The Warlords were blinded by their own desires and ambitions. Learn from their folly, lest you repeat it."

Lingqi’s chest was heavy with shame as he nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. Elder Zhu smiled, and the two continued their journey in silence, leaving Lingqi to contemplate the weight of his words. He stared out at the grassy plains and the trees dotting the horizon. A flock of birds fluttered across the sky, and clouds rolled lazily overhead.

Nightfall came swiftly, the moon a pale sliver in the night sky, casting a gentle glow over the world. Lingqi sat by the crackling fire, wrapped in a blanket, eyes fixed on the flickering flames as he listened to the chirping crickets and hooting owls. Elder Zhu sat opposite him on a log, hands folded neatly in his lap as he gazed at the stars.

"Elder Zhu, have you ever been able to...drop the temperature with your Prana?" Lingqi asked, eyes still on the fire. The elder stroked his beard, leaning forward, the firelight casting flickering shadows on his features.

"No, I have not. It is an impressive feat. Have you managed to do so again?" Elder Zhu inquired.

Lingqi shook his head. "Not on command. When I get emotional, my Prana goes out of control and I can't rein it back in," he admitted, watching the fire crackle and pop.

"I see," the elder acknowledged, contemplative.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" Lingqi asked, his face falling into a frown. "Is there a chance I'll never be able to control myself?"

Elder Zhu pondered the boy's words, his expression shifting from contemplative to serene. "There is nothing wrong with you, Lingqi. I am confident you will learn to control your abilities in due time," the elder assured warmly.

Lingqi smiled softly, appreciative. He pulled his blanket tighter, the chill seeping through despite the fire. "Who taught you to cultivate your Prana?" he asked.

Elder Zhu looked up at the stars, eyes sparkling with fondness. "Your master and I shared the same teacher long ago," he reminisced. "She was old and wise, but quite eccentric, with an affinity for strange and mysterious ways. She taught me much about the inner workings of the world."

Lingqi was entranced, shifting in his seat and pulling his knees closer to his chest. "You and Master Zhang were once students together?"

"Indeed we were," the elder affirmed, picking at his beard. "Your master wasn't as prodigious as you, but he worked hard and eventually became a renowned cultivator."

Lingqi smiled at the thought of Master Zhang working hard to push past his limits. In some ways the idea of it reminded him of Chen.

"Where is your master now?" the boy asked.

Elder Zhu frowned, the shadows of the fire dancing across his face, dimming his beady eyes. "Life sometimes takes us down different paths," he spoke cryptically, voice heavy with melancholy. "Where she wanders now, I do not know."

"I see," Lingqi murmured, a hint of sadness in his tone.

Elder Zhu's countenance brightened, and he clasped his hands together. "Now, get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us."

Lingqi yawned, shoulders slumping. The elder's words rang true, and the boy was exhausted. "Yes, Elder Zhu."