Yi Ming stood by the open window, concentrating on the beautiful city before him. The sun was barely peeking above the horizon and the air was still cool from the morning dew, a soft mist blanketed White Wind City, and it was particularly peaceful at the moment. 

“Today is the day…” he muttered, a trace of melancholy flickering across his pale, sickly face.

A small bundle and a letter lay on the table that sits behind him. He had spent many hours yesterday deciding what to bring with him on his journey but after careful thought, settled with simple spare clothing and ration. As for the letter, it was addressed to someone and it contained some of his innermost thoughts. However, he wasn’t sure if it would ever be read by that person.

“It’s time, I should get going.”

After taking one last look at the place he has called home all his life, Yi Ming exhaled an anxious breath before gently closing the window. Then, he walked over to the table, threw the bundle over his shoulder, picked up the letter, and departed.

As he was leaving the Yi Estate, he passed by several courtyards and rooms that were all strangely empty and unoccupied, yet, despite this, they were cleanly swept and were without a hint of dust. 

Yi Ming naturally wasn’t surprised by this. As large as the Yi Estate was, he was the only person living there. Although he was abandoned long ago, he held onto the hope one day, his family would return, so he made sure to keep the estate in good condition. Alas, that day never came.

Step by step, Yi Ming slowly approached the main gate. Standing before the grand doors with intricate designs, his complexion was ashen. Though he had only walked for ten minutes, his face had grown noticeably whiter, and his breathing was labored.

Feeling a familiar pressure rising in his throat, Yi Ming quickly pulled out a silky, white handkerchief and pressed it to his mouth.

Cough! Cough! Cough!

Tears welled at the corner of his eyes as the coughing racked his body, mixed with a burning pain in his chest. He clutched the wall for support, leaning heavily against it. 

A few minutes later, the discomfort subsided and Yi Ming gasped for air.

Huff. Huff.

He lowered his hand and the once pristine handkerchief was now painted red, and his lips had further darkened. 

“Damn it.” He cursed, frustrated by his condition.

“I’m so useless…”

“Just walking a short distance has caused me to be like this, how far would I even make it on my journey?”

Yi Ming bitterly laughed. Memories of when he was young and healthy momentarily flashed in his mind but he dispelled them instantly.

“Ah, why am I thinking of the past again? What’s done is done, I have no regrets. It’s best to use what little time I have left to do what I want instead.”

His lips curved into a tranquil smile. 

He straightened his robe, then using all the strength he could muster, proceeded to open the main gate.

As the doors creaked fully open, Yi Ming froze.

Before him stood a sea of people, their eyes fixed on him. Their faces carried various emotions, but most were marked by worry and concern. 

“You-you guys…” Yi Mingstammered, at a loss for words. Although his departure wasn’t a secret, he had planned to leave White Wind City at first light, to quietly disappear and in time be forgotten, but he never expected such a crowd to gather and see him off.

“Yi Ming.”

“Young Master Yi.”

Three familiar figures, standing at the forefront, greeted him warmly. Guilt shone briefly in his voice as he called out, “Uncle Jian, Aunt Wei, Mayor Su.”

Of the three, two were husband and wife. The husband looked to be in his thirties— handsome and dignified, with his hair tied up into a Taoist bun. He had a beard that was neatly groomed, adding to his regal appearance. On the other hand, the wife was beautiful, her fair skin flawless, without a sign of wrinkle. She wore a simple navy dress that fluttered in the wind, and every movement she made was filled with grace.

The last person was an old man with a hunched back leaning on a wooden cane. He had a thin frame but his eyes looked abnormally sharp.

While Yi Ming was at a loss for words, Aunt Wei crouched down and tenderly stroked his face. 

She saw this young child, who was just a month away from turning fourteen, his face whiter than even the purest snow, with crimson lips that were still blemished with blood, and her heart ached with sadness.

She pulled a cloth from within her sleeve and carefully cleaned his mouth, her movement gentle, like a mother caring for her son.

“Ah,” Yi Ming saw the dried blood on the cloth and realized they all must’ve heard of the fit he had just moments ago.

“Yi Ming,” Aunt Wei said softly, ignoring his reaction. “You don’t have to do this. Just stay here in the city. If you want, you can live with your Uncle Jian and me— you know we wouldn’t mind.”

Yi Ming listened in silence. He knew all too well of the love Uncle Jian and Aunt Wei had for him—they would likely stand against the world for his sake if they had to. When his own family had abandoned him, it was they who looked after him.

He still remembered the day when they argued with his father.

*******

“How could you!? You’ve taken away his future and now, you’re leaving him here to wither away!?”

“He is only five years old! How would he even care for himself?”

“Jian Wuchuan, Wei Lingxue, the business of my house is none of your concern! I asked you here for only one matter. The agreement that our fathers had, I’m giving you a chance for a new opportunity!

“Yi Haochen, It will never happen even in your dreams. Yi Ming and my daughter are fated by destiny ties. Their engagement is not something you can ever change.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Hmph! Fools… we will see about that.”

********

Yi Ming had heard everything that day, his father’s indifference as well as Uncle Jian and Aunt Wei’s devotion to him. Even when they knew his time was cut short and prospects were limited, they continued to support him.

Shaking his head, he resisted the urge to cry, “Aunt Wei, I can feel it, I don’t have long left. Instead of rotting away here, I wish to make the most of it. I want to see the outside world.”

His words carried through the crowd, and the air grew heavy with sorrow. The people gathered here weren’t just bystanders; they were all those who adored Yi Ming and were affected by him in some way or another. Since the time that he was born, the city was made better by his presence. Despite growing up in the noble Yi clan, Yi Ming lacked the tyrannical pressure that tended to accompany someone of his status. 

He was easygoing and never abused his power. Instead, he would often help those in need. Even after the Yi left White Wind City, leaving behind their eldest young master, he continued to do so. While the majority of them aren’t aware of the inner details of his abandonment, after seeing his worsening condition year after year, they were able to piece together some part of the puzzle. The news of it spread quickly in this small city, and it provoked their compassion towards him and distaste toward the Yi clan.

“The Yi clan is heartless,” they would say.

“Yi Haochen serves as the Imperial advisor to the Emperor but is detached from his own blood. What a scoundrel!”

“Successful he may be, but a failure he is as a father.”

Aunt Wei’s eyes teared up. Yi Ming hadn’t spoken in despair but was in the tone of acceptance. Despite the wrongs his clan had done to him, there was no resentment in his voice.

Uncle Jian stroked his beard with his eyes closed. Though his expression remained neutral, his clenched fist trembled, and his jaw tightened in silent frustration.

Mayor Su looked older than usual. He was there when Yi Ming was born and watched him grow up, even regarding him as his grandson. Now, the old is forced to say goodbye to the young, he was reluctant, too reluctant to do so.

“Where will you go?” He asked hoarsely. 

“Where…?” Yi Ming smiled. He had spent countless nights pondering the answer to this question, but in truth, he still didn’t know. He had read too many books in the Yi estate about the outside world. There was the Mirror Jade Reflection Spring in the West, the Hand of God in the North, the Champion Festival in the South, Paradise Hell in the East, and so much more. This world was booming with activities and it was hard for him to pick one as a target. 

The only certainty he held was a simple one. 

“I guess… I will go wherever my heart takes me.” He said innocently.

Yi Ming gazed at the sun, upon seeing how high it had gotten, he knew it was time to say goodbye. He hugged Aunt Wei, Uncle Jian, and Mayor Su before turning to look at everyone in the crowd. Again, he smiled, knowing this was probably the last time they would see him, he didn’t want them to remember a sad, pitiable face, that was on the verge of death, but one that was full of contentment.

Before he left, he handed the letter he had written to Uncle Jian.

“I was wondering how I should give this to you, but I guess it’s better to be direct.” He said earnestly, “Within this envelope is the annulment of my engagement to Jian Moyun, along with my farewell to her. She is bound to soar to the heavens. Our association will only sully her name. Though this arrangement was made by our grandfathers, I cannot agree with it, and not even the Yi clan can have any say in my decision. Uncle, Aunt, if one day she ever returns, please pass it on to her.”

Watching his small figure fade into the distance, Jian Wuchuan clutched the letter tightly, speechless. He wasn’t the only one—Wei Lingxue, Mayor Su, and the gathered crowd all stood in stunned silence. Yi Ming had spoken loudly, ensuring that everyone could bear witness to his intent. In doing so, he made it clear that the Yi clan would have no reason to trouble them over the engagement.

“Even as he left, he thought of us…” Jian Wuchuan shook his head angrily. “What is this? This brat… does he think I’m afraid of a mere Yi clan?”

A terrifying aura began to surge from his body. His eyes flashed with a thunderous light as he turned to glare at the golden plague hanging above the main gate, its character spelling out Yi Estate in polished obsidian.

“Yi clan…” he growled. “You never deserved him.”

His words struck deep, resonating with everyone present. They too slowly turned to stare at the golden plague, their expression solemn.

Like Jian Wuchuan, they felt an injustice for the young Yi Ming. Their auras flared and in the blink of an eye, a suffocating pressure enveloped White Wind City, causing even the air to crackle.

But the most furious among them wasn’t Jian Wuchuan— it was Wei Lingxue. Yi Ming had grown up without a mother and over time, she had naturally taken on that role. To her, Yi Ming wasn’t just anyone— he was her son, as well as her son-in-law. Even after his figure disappeared, she continued to look in the direction he had gone. As he walked, she saw every one of his struggles—how he stumbled, fell, gasped for air, coughed up blood, and the weight of the exhaustion he bore.

Her heart cried out in grief.

She had just lost a son today, she thought. Oh, how she wanted to help him, to stop him, to ask him to stay, to go with him. Yet, in the end, she didn’t. She respected his final wish. She was very well aware— Yi Ming certainly didn’t want her to witness his last breath in her arms, and that was part of why he had to leave.

At the sight of the Yi estate, a feeling of disgust overwhelmed her. The ground violently trembled in response to her emotions, shaking the very foundation of the estate. If she wanted, she could tear it down with but a thought but remembering how much this place meant to Yi Ming, she decided against it. Instead, with a simple wave of her hand, the golden plague disintegrated into dust.

No one spoke, including Mayor Su, who was in charge of the city. In the still air, they quietly agreed with her actions.

A few months had passed since Yi Ming’s departure, and the gates of the Yi estate remained tightly shut. As people passed by it, his smiling face would often flash into their minds. The city felt strange, as though it had lost a part of itself—the playful banter, the warm greetings, the sound of childish laughter, and the gathering of the community had faded. Who would have thought the absence of one child could bring about such a change?

On this day, Jian Wuchuan and Wei Lingxue stood in front of the Yi estate. With a small push of their hands, the gate crackled open, gathering the attention of people nearby. 

“Sigh, they must be missing the young lad again…” someone whispered.

“Yeah, especially Wei Lingxue, she had visited the estate multiple times but each time, she only stared at it from the outside and refused to enter.”

“I know how she feels— reminiscing can be painful, but forgetting is even worse. She must be conflicted.”

“Indeed… I wonder how that young lad is doing… or if he’s even… sigh…”

Jian Wuchuan and his wife visited Yi Ming’s room. Along the way, they noticed the collection of dust in the estate. Without the child here, there was no one left to do the cleaning. Even though the Yi clan owned the property, no one had been sent to maintain it.

Regarding Yi Ming’s disappearance, there was a lack of commotion on their side. It seemed likely they hadn’t even noticed he was gone, or perhaps they did and simply didn’t care.

The husband and wife wouldn’t be surprised if this was the case. 

As they walked through the empty courtyards, Wei Lingxue could almost see the ghostly image of Yi Ming wandering the grounds alone, trying his best to remain occupied. Often time he would clean, other times he would read, draw, play his guqin, or a game of go by himself. Leaving the estate had become too burdensome for him, thus it had become his prison.

Her eyes drifted to the walls, where she could still make out faint spots. Though it had been scrubbed away, she knew what these marks were— blood, evidence of the torment that Yi Ming had endured.

Jian Wuchuan felt the growing sadness in his wife, his eyes followed her gaze and he too, paused to stare at the spot on the wall. After a moment, he sighed and muttered, “Let’s continue,” before gently tugging her forward.

“Wait,” Wei Lingxue whispered, pulling back her hand. Confused, she stopped at a large courtyard they had just passed.

“That’s the Yi Ancestral Hall,” said Jian Wuchuan indifferently. At this point, his respect for the Yi clan was nonexistent. 

But Wei Lingxue felt a strange pull in her chest. Without a word, she slowly walked inside. Instantly, she was greeted by long rows of small monuments, each bearing the names of those from the Yi clan who had passed. Her eyes scanned each row before stopping abruptly at one in particular, sitting far at the back. 

Unlike the others, this monument was roughly crafted, the lettering crude, and its quality significantly inferior to the rest.

As she read the inscription on it, a sudden shock coursed through her body. She stood frozen before tears unknowingly fell from her hazel-colored eyes. A scene of a young boy quietly accepting his mortality, and carving a monument for himself is reflected in her pupils. Overwhelmed with heartbreak, she wailed uncontrollably.

Jian Wuchuan saw it too. At that moment, his shoulders dropped and his calm facade crumbled.

On the small monument, the words were etched:

Yi Ming

Son of Wei

Child of Jian