“What?! What do you mean you pushed her into the lake?” Tong asked in disbelief.
“We were alone in the watermill. I... I dragged her outside and pushed her into the deep end,” Zihan answered, his tone flat. He kept his eyes focused on the ground. “…Before I realised what I’d done…I was running home.”
Tong felt a hollow pit form in his stomach. “That’s why you wanted to leave,” he whispered, barely able to contain the bitterness in his voice.
“Yes,” Zihan answered coldly.
“You put a mark on our backs!” Tong snapped, pacing back and forth in the wet dirt, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Sect Master Xing could be chasing us for all we know!”
The wind howled, rustling the bare branches around them, adding to the moment’s bleakness. Zihan’s face twisted in anguish before he looked away from his brother.
Tong’s chest tightened. A part of him wanted to strike Zihan, to make him feel the pain he’d inflicted. But another part, the one softened by the bitter memories of their father’s death, held him back.
They stood in tense silence, broken only by the relentless patter of rain against the trees. Finally, Tong spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “We can’t change what’s done. But, brother, we need a plan. We can’t keep running. Zhao Xing will find us eventually.”
“We need to get stronger,” Zihan answered. “Much stronger.”
“But where?” Tong answered.
“I don’t know, but we’ll find a place.”
Tong nodded, realizing the truth in his brother’s words. The brothers crested a hill, and below them, in the misted valley, lay a town in turmoil. People ran through the streets, boarding up their homes, tearing down notices from once-proud walls. The imperial family’s death had thrown even these distant parts of Huaxia into chaos.
The smell of smoke lingered in the air as they skirted the town, moving past makeshift barricades and deserted stalls. Over the next few days, Bandits roamed openly, pillaging what little remained. tax collectors no longer walked their routes, leaving villagers to fend for themselves.
In one settlement, they witnessed a mob brawling over a half-empty sack of rice. Elsewhere, a magistrate’s house lay in ruins, windows shattered, doors broken, a grim reminder of the lawlessness that now reigned.
“This place doesn’t have as much violence as the rest…people said that disciples of the The Emerald Star Palace roam around here.” Tong said calmly.
Zihan’s head snapped up, a glint of hope in his weary eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes…I’m sure brother, why what’s wrong Emerald Star Palace is strong?”
“I heard they were one of the premier sects in all of Huaxia…”
“Would they accept us?”
“They might,” Tong said calmly. “…but we don’t know till we try…”
“Let’s see…”
They travelled the roads of Huaxia, avoiding bandits and thieves as best as they could. As they lived in a valley, hunting wild animals was normal for them. It was the skinning of animals that they had to get used to.
However, whenever they came across a river with fish, that’s when they felt at ease, because catching fish bait, was as easy to flipping a rock on its back.
After their squabble, it took them three days to reach Mount Emerald. Its towering peak nestled in the back ground. When dawn broke, the Emerald Star Palace shimmered in the early light, its jade rooftops untouched by the turmoil below.
The air was crisper here, with the faint scent of pine and wet stone. They could hear the faint chants of disciples in the distance, a reminder of the discipline and peace they sought.
At the mountain’s base, a stern-faced disciple motioned them to a small courtyard where other hopefuls waited, their faces tense with anticipation. The brothers had expected competition, but not like this. Hundreds of young martial artists crowded the base of Mount Emerald, their backgrounds as varied as their attire. Rich young masters in silk robes stood beside village boys in patched cotton, all drawn by the promise of being a martial artist under one of the most prestigious sects in Huaxia.
“Look at this mess,” Zihan muttered, watching as another group of refugees pushed their way through the crowd. “People are swarming here to seek shelter from the violence.
Makeshift camps dotted the area around the mountain’s base, some looking several days old. Hawkers worked their way through the crowds, selling talismans ‘guaranteed’ to help pass the sect’s trials and herbs claimed to boost cultivation. The air was thick with the smell of cooking fires and unwashed bodies.
“Third time trying,” a weathered young man told anyone who would listen. “They only take one in every hundred, if that. But with the imperial family dead, what choice do we have?”
Tong watched as sect disciples in emerald, white and gold robes-maintained order. One of the sect disciples approached the brothers, his face was painted with sternness, but his eyes held a friendliness that made them feel welcomed. “How may I help you?” He asked the brothers.
“We’re looking to join the sect…”
“Hooo…how old are both of you?”
“Fifteen Years Old,” Zihan said proudly.
“Eight years Old.”
“I see…” He said nodding back and forth. He then turned Zihan and the sternness returned to his face. “I’m sorry lad, but you’re too old to join the sect.”
Zihan heart sank, but he knew that already. When the Purple Mist Sect opened its doors to the valley, there was age restriction of twelve years, a grand sect such as the Emerald Star Palace would probably have stricter restrictions.
“Thank you for letting me know,” Zihan said with a bow.
The sterned faced man turned
Zihan walked up to Tong who was stupefied. His lips curled into a smile, then he hugged his little brother. “You can do this, Tong’er.”
“Young one, come with me, let me get you ready for your trial.”
“Trial?”
“Yes, if you want to join the sect, you must undergo a trial first.”
“Brother,” Tong said turning around.
“What are you doing Tong’er, walk proudly…get stronger.”
“No need to be so dramatic elder brother,” The stern disciple said, “If you don’t pass the trial you will be let go. They’re rooms for family members who undergo the trial. Just remember you will only have access for one day.”
“One day?” The brother asked in unison confusion.
“Yes,” The disciple said, laughing at their synchronisation, “the trial is only for one day, if you fail, you head back down the mountain, if you pass…you won’t be able to leave the mountain unless required, understood.”
Tong froze, it was clear he didn’t like the sound of it that. In his short life, he didn’t have much time with his father and he’d just lost his mother…now, he’s about to lose his brother.
“Think of father,” Zihan said firmly. Tong glanced back at looking at his older brother, determination set in his eyes. “Get stronger…Strong enough to face him one day.”
“I will brother.”
Zihan nodded, his heart pounding like a drum as he watched his brother joining the other candidates.
As Tong began to climb the stone steps, Zihan did the same, but in the opposite direction. One of the disciples ushered him to one of the rooms for family. “You’ve got this brother…you’ve got this.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
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”Your brother has passed his test,” The attendant told him. Relief washed over Zihan like a cool mountain stream. Those words reverberated around him, vindicating him.
Tong had done it; he’d secured a place in one of the most prestigious sects in all of Huaxia. He gave the attendant a deep bow and smile. “Thank You” He said, “please. Take care of my brother.”
He picked up his and his brother’s luggage, giving the latter to the attendant, then made his way to path leading down the mountain. As he walked down the winding path from Mount Emerald, each step felt both lighter and heavier at the same time. Knowing Tong would be safe within those jade-topped walls was the relief he needed, but the realisation that for the first time in his life, he was truly alone, made it harder to bare.
The world seemed different now.
Leaves rustled whilst birds sang in the distance against the wind. It carried a strange emptiness without Tong's presence beside him. The chatter they’ve embraced, was now just silence, broken only by his own footsteps and thoughts.
The next few days hunting in the forests surrounding Mount Emerald, staying close enough to see its peak piercing the clouds. Sometimes, he’d catch himself turning to share a joke with Tong, only to find empty air beside him. The guilt of what he’d done at the watermill still gnawed at him, but at least now Tong had a chance at a better life, far from the shadow of his crimes.
On the fourth day, whilst tracking a rabbit. The sound of clashing steel caught his attention. He followed the sounds; it led him to a clearing where a scene of chaos unfolded. Ten men in rags wielded swords, spears and cutlasses surrounded a man draped in black.
Zhu Liu Shi
“Hand over the sword!” the bandit demanded, a sneer-like smile appearing on lips. He flared his Qi around him, then allowed his killing aura to seep from his body, tainting the air around them.
Zhu Liu Shi smiled and shook his head. They don’t know the weather under the moon, “I have no quarrel giving you my sword…tip-first.”
He raised the blade in a fluid motion, and channelled his Qi into his blade, make the steel hum. A faint glow illuminating from the tip of sword and air around it turned cold in an instant.
“You dare mock me?” The bandit growled, his qi flaring wildly. “I’ll grind your bones to dust!”
“Come! I shall show you the clarity of steel against chaos.” Zhu Liu Shi said, stepping forward. The bandits scattered into a circle-like formation like wolves.
The forest fell silent for a brief moment, Zhu Liu Shi sensing the Qi pulsing from the bandits as excitement grew within them. The bandits charged at Zhu Liu Shi all at once. He channelled his Qi into his eyes and watched as wisps of Qi formed around it. The Qi solidified into pathways, showing where each attacker was aiming for.
He turned to his right slightly, then to his left. Once he was satisfied. He took one step forward and began his assault. Eight Boulder Shattering Slashes: Fourth Slash - Sundering Valley. Zhu Liu Shi arched his sword back at an horizontal angle, then brought it down with venomous err, cleaved through the air with frightening speed, forcing the bandits to scatter, halting their momentum.
As they divided like a mountain pass, he followed through with a successive horizontal slash, it created space where there had been none, carving out a path in the midst of chaos. Two bandits dropped from out of the air falling dead, as they were in line with its path.
“Sword Demon…” They all muttered upon realisation.
“Retreat!” One of them barked.
“NO!” Their assumed leader said, “I WANT THAT SWORD.”
“Greed leads to death, death leads to enlightenment, enlightenment leads to life…it is pity though, the only thing you’re capable of seeing pass me…is death.” Zhu Liu Shi said coldly.
Two bandits lunged, hoping to breach his guard, but their blades were swallowed by the spinning storm of defence. The bandits grunted in frustration, then charged at him again. Their muscles straining as they tried to overpower him, but their efforts were futile.
Eight Boulder Shattering Slashes: Seventh Slash - Roiling Avalanche.
Zhu Liu Shi’s sword arced through the air in circular motions, with each rotation, the momentum he built formed into a avalanche-like attack his sword attacks compounded on the bandits forcing them to block each other attacks, but the pressure from the wind was too much.
He maimed a bandit of his left hand, then shredded the legs of another. He pivoted to his left, then quarter-spun using the moment of his attack, hitting the bandit in the middle of chest. His chest cavity caved into a puddle of sinew and blood.
The remaining bandits retreated, desperation etched on their faces, but that was a plot, they still charged forward in unison, hoping to overwhelm him with their numbers, as if they forgot their comrade’s death.
A surge of Qi bubbled throughout, catching his attention. Shit, I can’t afford to take an attack, I’ve drained a third of my Qi using those techniques. He looked past the attack bandits and realised that one of the attackers had drifted off, to attack him blindly.
The assailant stood sure footed and Qi roiling around him like tempered storm. Zhu Liu Shi wanted to use an instantaneous step, but he knew that if it did so, he would’ve been able to not just dodge the attack, it would’ve allowed him to flank the bandit, but his meridians would’ve shrunk from the over use.
A stone whistled through the air, striking one of the bandits in the temple with a sharp crack. The attacker staggered, forcing him to lose concentration. His Qi waned for a millisecond and Zhu Liu Shi performed an instantaneous step, he appeared to the man’s left and stabbed in the side.
He winced instantly feeling his meridians shrank and began concentrating on his breaths, just like th Swallowing Star Mantra suggested. I just need to hold up for one minute, before my meridians regularise, He mused bitterly.
Zhu Liu Shi withdrew his sword from the bandit’s side, a dry dull blossomed around his body spreading from his meridian points within his Soul, Core and Mind Dantians, signalling the toll on his meridians. His Qi reserves had been depleted by his earlier techniques, and the shrinking of his meridians made his Qi flow sluggish, as if thickened by invisible weights.
Zhu Liu Shi felt his breathing grow heavy; each inhalation guided by the Swallowing Star Mantra as he centred his mind. He would need to conserve every drop of qi from here on, calculating each step to exploit their overconfidence.
The bandits noticed his hesitation, and emboldened by it, they pressed their advantage. The scarred leader stepped forward, sneering at Zhu Liu Shi. “You’ve run out of tricks, haven’t you? How about I show you the taste of real strength?”
He charged, brandishing a curved blade crackling with his own qi, his sword glowing faintly. Zhu Liu Shi sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the lethal arc. He redirected the secondary and thirdly slashes, and ensuring he didn’t get swallowed into the man’s rhythm.
Zhu Liu Shi extended his sword in a subtle, controlled arc that grazed the back of the leader’s hand as he passed, drawing a shallow line across his knuckles. It was a small nick, but one that forced the leader to jerk back, startled. “Is that all?” The leader laughed, shaking his bleeding hand
As he steadied himself, inhaling deeply, Zhu Liu Shi felt the strain of his shrunken meridians. Each time he swirled Qi within his Core Dantian, it felt painful channelling his Qi through the meridian points. As he followed the principles within the Swallowing Star Mantra, the flow only improved after thirty seconds. My internal flow is stabilising, bit by bit…I just have to hold on!
The bandits, however, seemed disinclined to grant him that reprieve. Two of them lunged, aiming for his exposed sides. Zhu Liu Shi adjusted his stance, anchoring his feet firmly into the ground as he parried with shorter, economical motions. The precise physical movements conserved his energy allow him to meet their onslaught.
He had learned long ago that sometimes clarity lay in restraint. A skilled martial artist could kill with a single slash as surely as a thousand, and now was the time to wield that knowledge. A bandit to his right feinted left only to spin right, aiming the tip of their blade at his chest.
Zhu Liu Shi sidestepped, forcing the bandit to stumble forward, exposed. With a quick flick of his wrist, he slashed across the bandit’s Achilles tendon, sending him sprawling to the ground. The remaining three paused, their confidence visibly shaken.
They had come expecting an easier kill, but here was a man who moved like flowing water, absorbing and redirecting each of their assaults with chilling composure.
Zhu Liu Shi’s body surged with a small burst of warmth. His meridians had finally expanded back to their standard size, his qi flowed freely, not like before but it was more than enough for him.
One bandit tried to take advantage of his apparent distraction; his sword aimed in a quick thrust to Zhu Liu Shi’s throat. But Zhu Liu Shi sidestepped with a swift, almost ghostly movement, circling behind him.
Eight Boulder Shattering Slashes: Eighth Slash: Shattering Boulder.
The single slash cut through the air, in a wave of concentrated qi. The air began to ripple visibly as it shot forward. The ground began to tremble as the bandits raised their weapons in fear. Their blades met his attack, a loud shattering sound echoed throughout the forest as their sword shattered. The bandits’ bodies flew back and the consecrated wave of Qi began slashing them uncontrollably. Blood, arms and limbs swivelled up and dropped to the ground like dead meat. A storm of dead flesh hit the ground with heavy thuds.
A resounding silencing fell over the forest, only the faint rustle of leaves dared break it. Zhu Liu Shi lowered his sword, letting out a steady exhale. His gaze swept over the fallen bandits, men who had underestimated the strength born of countless battles and a lifetime of discipline. Their arrogance had led them to this clearing; his skill had left them broken within it.
With the last echo of broken bodies fading into the forest, Zhu Liu Shi exhaled a quiet, controlled breath, calming the storm within him. He looked down at his blade, watching as the glow of qi dissipated, leaving only the cold steel reflecting the carnage around him.
He gazed at the remnants of his attackers, his voice a chilling whisper that carried over the still air. “In the clarity of steel, chaos finds its end. And in greed, death is the only reward.”
He wiped the blade clean and with a final glance at the fallen bandits, he sheathed his sword and turned to leave, blending into the shadows of the forest, as if he were part of the landscape itself—untouched and unbreakable.
A young man emerged from the shadows; he wasn’t scared. He purposeful. With dirt smudged clothes he walked up to Zhu Liu Shi, reverence echoing through his eyes. He fell to his knees, bowing deeply. “Master,” he said, voice trembling with emotion. “Please accept me as your disciple.”
Zhu Liu Shi looked down at the youth, noting his determined posture despite the quiver in his shoulders. The young man’s fingers were clenched tightly, knuckles white, as if he were holding on to his last shred of hope. The sight stirred something within him, a flicker of memory from a life long past. How many years had it been since he had knelt like this.
“Aren’t you too old to learn martial arts?” Zhu Liu Shi asked, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.
The young man’s head remained bowed, but his voice was firm, conviction lacing every word. “A toad is never too old to learn to swim.”
A faint smile tugged at Zhu Liu Shi’s lips. It was a simple statement, yet it held the stubborn will of a man who refused to accept his limitations. The youth’s spirit was unyielding, a rare quality in a world where many surrendered to fate. He couldn’t ignore the possibilities—the chance to pass on what he had learned, to rebuild what was lost.
He took a step forward, his blade still humming faintly with residual energy, the power of the Shattering Boulder echoing through the metal. He knew the path he was considering would not be easy. It would demand everything of this young man, perhaps more than he realized. But if the boy was truly willing to follow him, to endure the hardships that lay ahead, then perhaps there was hope yet.
“Tell me, young one,” he asked calmly feeling the weight of consideration. “What is your name?”