A small boy sobbed quietly as he grasped his wooden sword. Blood dripped from his hands onto the ground, staining the wooden sword he held so tightly. His skin was decorated in bruises and his hands were covered with blisters. For a small boy to be covered in so many wounds would usually elicit some sympathetic looks. However, in a military family where children trained as soon as they could walk, it was a common sight.
No one would sympathize with him and he would never dare complain. A life filled with pain and perseverance was the only life he had ever known.
"What are you doing?!"
A booming voice shouted from behind the little boy. He spun around to the voice in a panic. His eyes trembled with fear as soon as he recognized the owner. A hardened man stood behind him with an imposing figure. He was covered in scars and his skin was tanned from being under the sun all day.
The small boy stuttered out weakly, "F-Father…"
His father didn't bother wasting his breath as he glared at the small child before him. In a sudden fit of rage, he hit the boy on the side of the head with a powerful force.. The child was thrown to the ground and barely managed to catch himself before his head was nearly smashed against the hardened stone. His eyes stayed on the ground as he bit down on his lip to avoid crying out in pain.
His father shouted, "Answer me! What are you doing?!"
He forced himself to sit on his knees while facing his father. He spoke with his head bowed, "I am practicing as father commanded…"
A hard kick smashed into his side, knocking him over. He groaned in pain while clutching it. However, he still forced himself back up to sit on his knees. His tears mixed with blood as it rolled down his cheek. He pleaded desperately for his body not to feel the splitting pain that was ripping him apart.
His father spat out, "Practicing!? This is not practicing! I told you to go through the techniques I showed you earlier! Not this! I come back to check on your progress, only to see you crying like a stupid little girl!"
He flinched at his father's screams, but didn't dare defend himself. His voice managed to stutter out, "T-This lowly son is useless… Please forgive me for my inability…"
His father continued as his rage only seemed to build, "I have been training you so that way I could bring you to the Palace with my nose held high! How am I supposed to be proud of a son who is crying even more than babies do?! I won't have any face left if I bring a weakling like you to the Palace!"
The child willed himself to stop crying, but tears still poured out. Seeing the small boy cry harder only made his father angrier. His father began to kick him unrelentingly and the child could only scramble to sit on his knees once more before being kicked down again.
His father shouted out, "We don't get the honor of having emotions! We are nothing but murderous dogs under the Emperor! So stop your crying before I give you something to cry about!"
"Husband!" A soft, yet urgent voice cried out in the distance. A woman with a very soft and gentle face ran over to the two with a look of worry. She grabbed onto her husband's arms, stopping him from hitting the small child who could barely stay on his knees.
She spoke in a soothing tone, "Husband… How will he get better if you break his bones? Please give little A-Hui a break…"
"A break!? Woman! Do you see our child?! He is supposed to be a proud fighter of the Zhu family! Yet he is crying after doing simple sword techniques!! We did not raise a girl, but he continues to act like one!!"
She rubbed his arm to placate him, "Husband… I know… I know… But, he is still very young… He will learn to be strong just like you. You just need to give him more time…"
"Time?! When I was his age, I had already seen men dying! My hands were already stained with blood! I didn't have the luxury of tears!"
"I know, husband… But we live in peaceful times now. It's only natural he is a bit softer. Just give him time. I am sure he will become just as strong as you within no time."
His father looked into her pleading eyes and clicked his tongue in annoyance. He removed his arm from her hands forcefully and turned away from her. He stared down at the child with resentful eyes, "Real men don't cry." Then with a humph, he walked away. His longsword was still attached to his hip, clanging with each step he took.
His mother rushed over to help the small boy up, "A-Hui… Don't be upset with your father… Father is just a bit worried for you. He just wants to toughen you up so that no one will bully you. The Palace is a dangerous place filled with strife and inner turmoil. If you are to enter it, you need to learn how to protect yourself."
The child rubbed his tears, smearing dirt and blood across his face. He sniffled as he ignored the pain, "A-Hui understands… A-Hui will try to not upset father anymore…"
His mother sighed and pulled out a handkerchief. She wiped at the grime on his face with a soft expression. She gave a weak smile, "A-Hui… When you enter the Palace, who knows? Maybe the Emperor will see your worth and give you a high position in the army. You could even be a commander."
"Y-You think so?"
She smiled kindly, "I know so. You just need to learn how to control your emotions. It is okay to feel them, but you can never show them."
"Okay, Mother… I will try."
She rubbed his head, "Good boy. Now practice hard. You must make your ancestors proud."
And so, the child Zhu Hui killed off his emotions. One by one, he severed each one. He remained numb…
Until the day he met a spoiled Prince.