The morning sky was still gray when Lu Zhou awoke on an emergency stretcher. The sound of rain had faded, leaving only the scent of wet earth and the blood that hadn't yet vanished. He wasn't in the palace. Nor on the battlefield.
He was in an old wooden hut, long abandoned by its former villagers. His soldiers had brought him there for safety. But to his eyes, the place felt far too quiet. Too empty to contain the gaping wound in his chest.
Beside him sat Mo Tian, silent. He hadn't moved since last night, only occasionally changing the damp cloth on his old friend's forehead. Lu Zhou opened his eyes slowly, staring at the cracked ceiling, and murmured:
> "The sky today… looks just like the day Tian was born."
Mo Tian lowered his head.
> "You still remember?"
Lu Zhou exhaled heavily. The crack in his voice seemed to mirror the one in his heart.
> "It was raining that day. But the moment I held him for the first time… I felt the whole world stop. He was so small… but it felt like I was holding my entire future."
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to hold back the surge of emotion rising within him.
> "I taught him everything… how to chop wood, ride a horse, form strategies… But the one thing I forgot to teach him… was how to heal loneliness."
Mo Tian looked at Lu Zhou, his eyes red.
> "You never truly left him. You were just… too busy being a hero for the world. But maybe, Tian only ever wanted you to be a father."
Lu Zhou bit his lip. His hand reached for the wound on his chest—not the physical one, but the mark left by his son's blade. A scar he didn't entirely regret.
> "He… held back. He could've finished me… but he didn't. That means… Tian is still there. Behind that mask, behind all the hatred… my son is still alive."
Flashback – Years Ago
Under a large tree, young Tian sat on his father's lap. His face full of wonder.
"Father… when I grow up, can I be a hero like you?"
Lu Zhou chuckled softly, then gently pinched the boy's cheek.
"You can be anything you want, Tian. But promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Never lose your heart."
Tian nodded innocently.
Back to the present
Lu Zhou's tears fell—silent, without tremble. He simply… wept. And in that silence, the world seemed to pause with him.
> "I failed… Not as a general… but as a father."
Mo Tian bowed his head.
> "You can still fix it. Because he didn't kill you… because he still remembers you… that means he's still hoping you'll come find him."
Lu Zhou stared at his aged hands, now frail. But in his eyes, a faint ember began to glow. Not anger. Not vengeance.
Hope.
Days passed. Lu Zhou's wounds slowly healed. But his heart still trembled whenever he gazed out the window. Beyond the distant mountains, the fog hung like a border between past and future.
He stood up slowly, aided by a cane.
Hu Lei, Lu Zhou's subordinate, arrived carrying his old cloak.
> "Sir… You're not fully recovered. But if you truly wish to search for him… we'll follow."
Lu Zhou stared at the cloak for a long moment. Then shook his head.
> "I won't go as a general. I'll go as a father."
He stepped outside, onto the cold, wet path. Behind him, Mo Tian and Hu Lei stood in silence. They knew—this was no path of war.
This was the path of a father… seeking to find his son again.
> "Tian… if you can still hear your heart… I'm coming. Not to bring you home. But to hold you… even if only one last time."
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