“I hate this village.” Marshall Zian Tao said to Jing Feng annoyance. He’d been complaining of the scent for days, despite only spending one night in the village.

Why does he complain every ten seconds? Feng asked himself, trying his best o hide his frown.

Yes, The Yellow Orchid village was bathed in strong scents, fruits, vegetables, feet and the occasional feces, but it wasn’t that bad to him.

Feng thought that Zian Tao, thought too highly of himself, despite himself only being a simple Marshall within the Imperial Guard.

Jing Feng might’ve been putting it simply, as he compared the Marshall Zian Tao to himself.

After all, he wasn’t an Imperial Guard but a Dingshi. One of the Emperor’s personal body guards.

Jing Feng wasn’t born within the Dragon Palace. He wasn’t a bastard from Noble family. Nor was he a son of a mighty general. He, was a simple lad found on a latrine left out in the dark, crying in the middle of the night.

And despite that…he was selected to the Black Cauldron.

“You’re quiet Captain Feng,” Tao said firmly, stuffing another piece of chicken into his maw.

“…Just awaiting your orders Marshall Tao.”

“Awaiting my orders?” Marshall Tao scoffed, “Aren’t you a Captain? I didn’t know my words reached you!” He bellowed with a hearty laugh.

Out of the Ten Marshalls within the Imperial Guards, he was the most laid back, suited for desk duty. Yet, he was here, in the field.

“What are we doing here Marshall Tao?” Feng asked, frustrated.

“Cleaning up the bandits, why else?” He said, sucking the chicken bone dry of its juices.

“Then why are we still here?”

“…because I see it fit that we stay here for now soldier. Do you understand me?” Tao growled.

The other Imperial Guards shifted their eyes from their plates, looking at Jing Feng, making him feel naked. He read their thoughts without a moment’s rest because their thoughts were what he was accustomed to.

Cesuo Nanhai they called him under their breath Latrine Child…an unwanted child. That wasn’t all that they didn’t like about him though. It was his confidence. How dare he speak to the Marshall in that tone? Their eyes said.

Jing Feng spoke to the Marshall in that tone, because he was of the Accentuation Realm.

A warrior that Huaxia needed.

No a Warrior the Emperor needed.

Unlike the rest who barely scraped to the Core Awakening Realm. Weaklings. The lotta them. He thought, hiding his scorn with his dazed eyes.

Jing Feng didn’t care though. He was a Dingshi, and none of them knew. After all the Dingshis were only known to the Emperor.

I may have been unwanted, but right now, the Emperor needs me to complete this task.

Being as skillful as Jing Feng gave him confidence and power. Hidden, of course, hidden from the likes of the rest, because they weren’t within his Martial Realm of prowess.

…And despite being left on a Latrine at birth…he was better than all of them!

‘Shi San’, He reminsed, the Emperor calling by his Dingshi name. ‘You’re being assigned Marshall Zian Tao’s Platoon. Banditry between Longyan and Anqing passage has risen too high. But that’s not why I’m sending you there. You’re to escort an Axsumite caravan to Fuzhou for me. Do you understand?’

Axsumites? He questioned at the time.

‘There’s no need to worry.’ The Emperor told him, ‘They aren’t warriors, but refugees. There’s no need to bring this up with anyone, can I trust you with this task?’

‘Yes Your Majesty.’

‘Good, now take this with you.

Feng rose from kneeling, then walked up to the Emperor, robes swaying as the wind embraced him as he walked down the steps to him.

The Emperor pulled an envelope from under his robe sleeve handing it to him. It held his crest under cooled wax and made Feng scared to even touch something such as this.

The Emperor’s porcelain white skin was as white as snow. His features were sharper than a poisoned dagger, but his eyes were as gentle as a newborn kitten’s own.

Ever since that day, he felt as though the weight of the world had been placed on him. Axsumites? He thought bitterly. If bringing them forth to the Emperor to be executed is my duty, then I’ll gladly do it!

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“Enjoy your food Marshall Tao, I’ll head out to patrol for these bandits,” Feng said, pushing his chair from beneath his feet.

A loud groan shrieked across the room, as the chair broke the silence within the room Everyone eyed him with discerning eyes. Yes…look at me, you ingrates! He thought with a smile. Then, marched upstairs to his room.

The room was small, square and had one bed which sat on the right of the wall. The table which had a basin on, sat in the left corner, above a small cabinet for his clothes.

The window was in the middle of the wall, right above the table, where light poured in leaving a dragging shadow of the basin and table and between the table and bed was his sword and halberd, propped up against the wall.

He smiled, watching as the sheath of the sword twinkled when the sun glanced at it. The sheath was black, and silver decorations. It had the Huaxian character ‘Shi San’ engraved into it, signifying his rank as a Dingshi of the Black Cauldron.

In the Black Cauldron, they were twenty Dingshis, not included in the Fire Master. The Dingshis considered themselves sword-brothers.

A bitter memory aroused within his mind, but he pushed it down, quelling it. A shadow of the fire is never weak, but always surging with power to light the way to protect the Emperor…for Huaxia

“For my fallen brother’s and master,” Feng said softly.

Feng disrobed himself, taking off the standard Imperial Guard’s uniform. The crumpled sound of the envelope snapped into his ear and he pulled it free, placing it on the table with most care. this belongs to the Emperor, this is worth more than my life! He thought, happily.

Once he finished disrobing he tossed his Imperial Guard robes on the bed and began fishing through his sack, pulling a shredded cloak over his undergarments and snapping up his sword.

He’d never wondered about the Jianghu on his own, but since he since he’d broken through to the Accentuation Realm…why would he even care if he came across a bandit?

No One was his better. Jing Feng, at the young age of Twenty-Nine…was simply a master…genius he was told. Who would’ve thought that the Latrine boy would become a Master Swordsman, He thought happily, hearing his Master’s words. It was like hearing the finest song, from the zither on a tranquil night when the moon beamed at its brightest.

Jing Feng pushed the window open with a a palm-full of Qi, then leapt through, sword in hand and ragged cloak trailing behind him.

As he soared in the air, he could see people’s eyes drawing to him as he skipped to another building.

The people on the ground raised their hands pointing at Jing Feng, hurling curses and complaining about the shingles that’ll fall. Shingles falling? Jing Feng thought, allowing their words to draw a smile onto his lips.

He stepped on the next roof, skipping lightly, ensuring he didn’t dislodge any shingles. He headed towards the south of the end of the city, and within thirty seconds he’d reached it.

Jing Feng landed on the Paifang, feeling the stones scrap beneath his feet and turned around to watch the people behind him. It wasn’t like him to be this arrogant or haughty, but with the emperor requesting a mission of you. Why not express it through your Qinggong.

He gave a mocking bow to the ground below and saw the aura of two warriors in the distance. A woman dressed in white, with a matching white veil covering her face. She held a child in her arms and another man, whose aura seemed fierce in comparison.

His chest was shown, showing the hair on his chest and his rugged appearance, in both clothes and face.

No…he’s not on my Martial Realm He thought, but maybe another time.

Jing Feng turned around and sprung onto the surrounding trees soaring through the skies and disappearing into the forest’s embrace.

Because today was the day that he’d meet the people The Emperor requested that he escort back to the palace.

◆◆◆

Two days passed and nothing. Jing Feng had scampered up and down the river bed, looking for the boat that carried his Emperor’s Axsumite ‘guests’.

Feng lay on top of a tree, feeling as the wind waft around flapping his ragged cloak, disturbing each second he tried to rest.

He purposely kept himself hidden in the trees, a few hundred meters away from the river bed, ensuring he wasn’t seen.

People traversed from Anqing to Yellow Orchid in droves. Majority of them carrying supplies and cargo meant for Longyan. The same could be said about those who travelled from Longyan to Anqing.

Marshall Tao’s duties were to ensure the trade between the two provinces were solidified and to capture or kill any bandits who posed to offset the trade.

Marshall Tao was a shrewd man, Feng could admit that, he was just lazy. He watched as Tao’s men paced back and forth guarding the roads like vultures, yet, he was nowhere to be found.

The Imperial Guards were proficient, they had to be, but none of them were Jing Feng. As easy as this assignment was for the Jing Feng he began to wander if it’ll ever end.

A sudden growl caught Jing Feng’s attention. He looked down at his stomach and felt as it churned from emptiness. “I guess two days without food is the most I can suffer.”

He leapt from atop the trees, landing on the ground with the thud of a whimper. “Time to eat.”

Jing Feng sprung through the forest, skipping from tree to tree, tapping the barks of the trees as he used his qinggong. He spun, twirled and skidded whilst he floated, feeling the wind caress his face.

Once he made he reached his destination, sword in hand. He flicked the grass mat up and peered into the trap hole.

A brown rabbit was spiked in the trap hole. He scooped it up and began skinning it.

The scent of green crushed grass, fluttered into his nose making him gawk from the scent. He wasn’t used to such raw scents. In the Dragon Palace, the scents were subtle, aromatic and full of colour.

Jing Feng built a fresh fireplace, making a smokeless fire and watched as the rabbit slowly cooked, beneath his fire.

He wasn’t used to sleeping on trees, but his training allowed him to sleep, anywhere. If he were to compare it to the Black Cauldron, it was slightly better.

Feng’s mind drifted to his old life, thinking of how hard the Pit Master pushed him to his limits, ensuring he wasn’t weak as a Dingshi.

A smile resonated on Jing Feng’s face as he remembered his real name, ‘Shi San’. He spun his sword in his hand, watching as his name disappeared as the sheathe turned in his hand.

He didn’t mind the name Jing Feng, it was better than Shi San, which happened just to be a number. It made him feel normal…normal as he could be.

Feng knew that they were Dingshi who resented the training, the Pit Master and the Black Cauldron…but not him.

He loved it.

He loved that he was important to the Emperor. Important to the Empire. He loved how important he was to ensuring that the Great Empire of Huaxia would live on.

Feng pushed himself up, grabbing his sword and tapping his side, ensuring the Emperor’s envelope was still there.

He looked up, noting the trees had blocked out the sun, allowing the wind to leave his neck full of goosebumps.

Jing Feng travelled back to his spot and lapped his foot, keeping his eyes on the Red River.

“The Palace is far more beautiful than this.” He complained. “…far more beautiful.”