Wen Yingjie felt his mind and throat dry up as he took in everything Yi Jie had said. He wasn't a coward, but the risk of dying before he could even attempt what he had set out to do left his thoughts in disarray.
He sighed and looked upwards, his gaze turning blurry.
"How many years has it been? Fifty, sixty, seventy, or more, since I last had Mom's cooking, got that cold stare from the old man, or listened to Grandpa's tales of how he earned the nickname 'Golden Spear of the Blue Oak Kingdom.'
Who would've thought that I, who was once lauded as the youngest general with the highest chance of reaching the palace stage—would end up a vagabond, roaming the earth with no place to call home, dragging the Wen family name, once synonymous with honor and duty, through the mud."
"Maybe death would be a release from the heck I've lived through since that day."
"Fourth Prince… why? Why? Just… why would you get in bed with the Black Jade Syndicate and serve as their spy against your own kingdom?"
"You had a life most could only dream of. All the power, the influence… but you chose to collude with a criminal syndicate that has the blood of countless, including even entire nations, under its belt."
"Just what were you after by colluding with them?" Countless questions swirled in Wen Yingjie's mind, and all of them met the same answer—a silent sigh of helplessness.
"I thought I'd get an answer to at least some of these questions after decades of tracking down the Grey Weasel—one of the Black Jade Syndicate's executives and a key player in the prince's betrayal. But if I die before even getting the chance to question him, then… what was the point?"
"I can't even risk getting close to him without a top-grade sky-rank weapon. He's constantly surrounded by late-stage Core Formation experts, and as an executive, his own strength is likely on par with theirs, if not stronger."
"Am I really unfated to resolve my family's disgrace?"
He clenched his fists, frustration simmering beneath his skin.
"This is frustrating. Grandpa... what would you do if you were in my place?"
Wen Yingjie stood in quiet contemplation as his thoughts drifted toward simpler days. Days when things were clearer, when the only burdens on his shoulders came from training with his saber.
"What would you do?" he softly mumbled once more, a pleading look in his eyes as he stared at the ceiling of the courtroom, his gaze, along with his thoughts, seemingly drifting somewhere far away.
...
Blue Oak Kingdom, Wen Domain (Red Glaive Forest) — 546 years ago
Two people rode side by side on horseback. One was an old man clad in pristine white robes, his frame sturdy despite his age. He sat atop a red feather-tailed horse with practiced ease. Beside him was a youth around nine years old, also dressed in white robes, riding a smaller but similar red feather-tailed horse. The boy's eyes sparkled with excitement as his head constantly turned, taking in the surroundings with an eager smile.
They shared similar features, from the sharp cheekbones to the same eye shape, and grey amber color, making it obvious at a glance that they were related.
"Grandpa, thank you for bringing me to the Red Glaive Forest! I kept asking Dad, but all he ever does is make me practice my shield and sword routines every single day—and beat me up over and over. That stinky old man..."
The boy clenched his fists in exaggerated fury, only for his expression to shift back to one of excitement as he turned toward the forest ahead. At a glance, it looked like an ordinary woodland—until one noticed the crowns of the trees, which had a blade-like curvature that resembled that of a glaive.
This was the reason it was called the Red Glaive Forest. Legend said that a powerful glaive cultivator once trained there, and as his spear dao reached greater heights, it manifested in the land, transforming the trees into red glaive trees.
Whether the tale held any truth, no one could say. What was known, however, was that the forest was home to some of the fiercest spirit beasts in the entire Blue Oak Kingdom.
"Heheheh, do you want me to knock him around a few times for you, Yingjie'er?" the old man asked with a gentle smile, looking dotingly at his grandson.
At the thought of his father getting a beating, the boy's eyes lit up brighter than they had moments before. But a few breaths later, he adopted a contemplative posture, hand to his smooth chin, and slowly shook his head with a sigh.
"Thanks, Grandpa, but for some reason, I feel like Dad would be even more ruthless with me during training if you beat him up. He's not exactly great at handling losses. I remember beating him in rock-paper-scissors once, and out of sheer embarrassment, he made me try to cut a boulder with a thin slice of paper. I was four at the time!" he said, pausing to animatedly hold up four fingers to emphasize just how unfair the task had been.
"Four!" he added indignantly.
"And when I failed, he made me clean the spirit beast stables even though he knew I was afraid of them, given how they always beat me up every chance they get. What kind of person does that to their own child?" he fumed with righteous indignation.
The old man froze momentarily as if recalling something. A second later, he let out an awkward laugh.
"Why don't I tell you about the time I led a solo charge through the famed White Stone Cavalry of the Rockwhale Kingdom? I leveled an entire battalion, wiped out their encampment, and flattened a few fortress strongholds while I was at it," he said, stroking his beard with a smug smile and puffing up his chest.
"Really?" the young boy asked, his eyes glittering like stars as he looked up at his grandfather with reverent awe.
With that, the duo—one old, one young—made their way deeper into the Red Glaive Forest. The former animatedly recounted his tale, spittle and passion flying everywhere, while the latter soaked up every word with fervent excitement.
(30 minutes later)
Swoosh—
An arrow pierced clean through a grey deer, its hooves glinting with a metallic sheen more akin to daggers than bone.
"Great shot, Yingjie'er! We might just make a fine hunter out of you yet. Now, quickly start processing it, and make sure no part of the Iron-Hoofed Deer is left unattended, down to the pelt," the old man instructed, standing at the side with a satisfied grin as Yingjie moved to the task with practiced precision.
He was halfway through when the unexpected struck.
A thunderous roar echoed through the forest, shaking the trees and sending a ripple through the canopy. Some branches even groaned under the force, threatening to snap. The ground began to tremble, the vibrations growing stronger with every passing moment. Something massive was approaching, crashing through the forest with raw, unbridled force.
Yingjie'er didn't have to wonder long as to the source of that violent commotion.
In the distance, a mountainous shape barreled toward him, toppling massive trees in its path as though they were no more than blades of grass.
"Yingjie'er, don't take a step away from my side," the old man instructed, as he stepped in front of him with a golden spear already in hand. A roaring dragon emblem was embedded near its base, while the edge gleamed with a dark red tint, which gave the illusion that it had been colored so because of all the blood it had soaked up.
He stood there, stalwart and composed, facing the behemoth charging towards them.
Yingjie finally got a clear look of it.
It was a massive red tiger, wreathed in a baleful, murderous aura that weighed down the air itself. He recognized that aura. It was something he'd seen before on his father, on his father's comrades, and on other relatives who had served in the army. The only person he'd never seen exude that kind of killing intent was his grandfather. He had always wondered why.
The tiger's gaze fell on him.
In an instant, Yingjie froze.
His legs gave way, and he dropped to his knees, eyes wide as a torrent of nausea overtook him. He began to vomit, wheezing violently as if suffocating in an invisible sea. The pressure was unbearable.
He felt like he'd been submerged in a torrential sea of blood that was thick with the stench of carnage, which only suffocated the air around him.
Every breath he took, he felt like blades were tearing away at his lungs. The pressure bearing on him became intolerable as he felt his body being crushed by an invisible force. If someone told him ten mountains had fallen on him, he wouldn't doubt one bit.
Just as he felt his body was about to be ground to paste, his grandfather snorted, and with a wave of his sleeve, the unseen pressure shattered like mist.
Yingjie collapsed to the ground, coughing over and over, until his breath finally began to steady. Even then, he didn't dare look at the tiger again.
"Don't look down," the old man calmly and softly whispered.
"Stare ahead, and don't shy away from what you're feeling. You feel weak, timid, and afraid. There's nothing wrong with that. Accepting those feelings and facing them won't automatically make you stronger, but it will give you a clear heart that is accepting of yourself and the situation you're in. There's strength in that. And freedom.
Don't let that oversized cat take that away from you. Face it head-on, and the feelings you feel, accept them. Then decide: what is it you can do?
That clarity will guide your actions—whether it's to attack, hide, run, or ask for help. Whatever you choose, your actions will come from a place of clear intent, not weighed down by hesitation.
There's a difference in the intensity and flow between the actions of someone with clarity and those of someone who hesitates. Surviving dangerous situations often depends on recognizing those subtle differences.
Whatever step you take, do it with your whole mind and body carved into it so that no matter what happens next, you can find solace in knowing you did, whilst being sincere in your act.
That's how I've always lived. I faced the storms of my life with eyes wide open and a clear heart. When I fought, I held nothing back. When I ran, I did so with hesitation. Every action I take, I face with a clear heart.
So find your clear heart, Yingjie'er."
He smiled gently at his grandson. "Like mine is telling me to obliterate this massive cat for scaring you."
Yingjie, still wide-eyed, stared at his grandfather in a bit of a daze before his expression slowly shifted. His gaze steadied, his breath slowed even though parts of him still trembled.
"I'm weak, so I can't run away or fight," he said quietly, clenching his small fist. "But I won't always be weak. And for now… since I'm incapable of anything, I'll rely on you, Grandpa."
The old man nodded his head in appreciation before he valiantly charged at the beast. The moment he swung his spear forward, the head of a massive golden dragon materialized as it let out a deafening roar, charging toward the tiger, which whimpered in fear as it tried to turn tail and run. However, it was too late as it was punctured through with a massive hole running through its chest, with its front legs being obliterated in the attack. It fell down with a huge thud. It tried making a sound, but nothing came out other than gulps of blood and strained breath.
Yingjie couldn't believe what he saw as that massive beast that towered over them lay dead after just one strike.
"Grandpa is so cooooooool," Yingjie yelled, his eyes gleaming with worship as he stared at his grandfather, burning that scene into his heart.
.....
"Act with a clear heart, huh, Grandpa..." Wen Yingjie softly murmured, as a small smile formed on his face, washing away his earlier troubled look. He looked like a different person, lighter even, as if a burden that once shackled everything within him had finally lifted.
"I'll do it. I'll take the third option," Wen Yingjie said calmly as he bowed.
"If I fail… well, that'll be that. There are plenty of people in the kingdom more talented than I am who can take my place in dealing with the Black Jade Syndicate. If it can't be me, then someone else can take over.
Relying on someone else is also a strength… right, Grandpa?" he thought, smiling gently as the tension eased from his face.