Two weeks had passed in the blink of an eye, and Wei Yu had already made remarkable progress in his cultivation under Yu Chen's guidance. He had officially become Yu Chen's disciple and entered the Qi Refining stage within just one week—an accomplishment that usually took most cultivators at least a month. His talent was immense, and by the time two weeks had passed, he had reached the second stage of Qi Refining.
Yu Chen, deep in thought as he sat in his study, was still pondering the best cultivation method for Wei Yu. His disciple's spiritual roots were so rare and unique that none of the conventional methods seemed entirely suitable. It was a challenge he had not expected but was determined to solve.
The sound of the door creaking open interrupted his thoughts. Wei Yu entered, his presence a calming contrast to the intensity of the room. Yu Chen looked up, his concentration broken. He still hadn't fully gotten used to being called "Shizun" by Wei Yu, but the sound of it never failed to bring a soft warmth to his heart.
"Shizun," Wei Yu's voice was gentle, almost hesitant, but full of respect.
Yu Chen raised an eyebrow, setting his pen down. "What is it, Wei Yu?"
Wei Yu bit his lip, a hint of embarrassment on his face as he stepped closer. "Actually, I have a request." His words were carefully chosen, though his expression betrayed his unease. "I haven't seen Grandpa for a long time… and I promised I'd visit him at least once a week. I was hoping you would allow me to go see him today."
Yu Chen paused, his eyes softening as he considered the request. It was only natural for Wei Yu to miss his grandfather—his only remaining family. Wei Yu hadn't seen the elder in at least three weeks, and it was a bond that meant a great deal to the young boy. But Yu Chen, ever the meticulous teacher, understood how important it was for Wei Yu to keep his promises.
After a moment's silence, Yu Chen looked up, his gaze sharp yet understanding. "I understand your feelings, Wei Yu. But I cannot allow you to go alone. As your Shizun, I must accompany you to ensure your safety."
Wei Yu froze, a small frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He hadn't expected this. "Shizun…" He hesitated, clearly reluctant. "I… I don't need you to come with me. I just need to see him alone. It's not that I don't want you there, but…"
Yu Chen's expression softened, though his voice remained firm. "You are my disciple, and I am responsible for your well-being. It is my duty to accompany you. Also, it is important that your grandfather knows you are in good hands now, that you are under my protection. He will worry less if he sees that."
Wei Yu opened his mouth to protest again but saw the determined look in Yu Chen's eyes. He had been under Yu Chen's care for only a short time, but already he knew that once Yu Chen made up his mind, it was difficult to change it. Though hesitant, Wei Yu reluctantly nodded. "Alright, Shizun. I understand."
***
The journey to Wei Yu's grandfather's hut in the forest was uneventful, though Wei Yu remained unusually quiet. His thoughts were a whirlwind as they traveled the familiar path through the woods. He hadn't seen his grandfather in weeks and was unsure of how to face him after all that had happened. His grandfather had always been a strong and supportive presence in his life, the one constant since his parents' tragic death. But now, with Yu Chen by his side, things were different.
Yu Chen, meanwhile, couldn't help but notice Wei Yu's pensive silence. He did not push the boy to speak, understanding the internal conflict that often came with the complexities of family ties. The forest grew thicker as they ventured deeper, the canopy above casting long, dappled shadows on the ground. The air was thick with the scent of earth and pine, and the only sound was the crunch of leaves beneath their feet.
There journey took them two days. They arrived at the clearing where Wei Yu's grandfather's hut stood—a small, weathered wooden structure nestled against the edge of a dense grove. But something was wrong.
The door to the hut was broken open, its wooden frame splintered and hanging loosely on its hinges. The faint smell of iron lingered in the air, something Wei Yu instantly recognized, but feared to acknowledge. His heart skipped a beat.
"Grandpa?" Wei Yu whispered under his breath, his feet moving instinctively toward the hut.
Yu Chen's brow furrowed. He had seen enough in his years to recognize when something was wrong. Without hesitation, he followed Wei Yu, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger.
They entered the hut together. The scene inside was beyond anything Wei Yu could have prepared for.
Blood stained the floor, pooling around a crumpled figure in the corner of the room. The smell of death hung heavy in the air. Wei Yu's breath caught in his throat as he stumbled forward, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Grandpa!" Wei Yu cried out, his voice cracking with a child's desperation.
Yu Chen's eyes widened, his heart sinking as he recognized the lifeless body of Wei Yu's grandfather, lying in a pool of his own blood. His mind raced as he processed the grim reality. There was no sign of struggle—just the broken door, the silence, and the blood. It was as if the old man had been caught off guard, too weak or too tired to defend himself.
Wei Yu collapsed beside the body, his small hands trembling as he reached out to touch the cold, lifeless form. The sight of his grandfather, the man who had raised him with love and care, was too much for the boy to bear. He had been his only faimly, his only support. He couldn't even protect him. Wei Yu felt useless, if he was strong then maybe, maybe....Tears streamed down his cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably, the pain of loss and confusion overwhelming him.
Yu Chen stood frozen for a moment, the shock of the situation gripping him with icy fingers. His mind flashed back to the trauma of his own past—the image of his mother's lifeless body, the cold, empty eyes staring back at him, the same overwhelming sense of helplessness. The memories flooded in, sharp and painful, as if the years had not dulled the ache.
One single tear slipped from Yu Chen's eye as he watched Wei Yu break down. Without thinking, he moved to the boy's side, kneeling beside him. He wrapped his arms around the trembling child, holding him close as Wei Yu wept.
"It's okay," Yu Chen whispered, his voice soft but steady, though the ache in his chest mirrored Wei Yu's own. "It's okay. You're not alone."
In that moment, Wei Yu's mind went blank. His body seemed to freeze. He couldn't comprehend it—couldn't process the loss. His world, once stable and familiar, was now crumbling around him. His grandfather, the only family he had left, the man who had raised him with such quiet strength, was gone.
With a sudden rush of emotion, Wei Yu hugged Yu Chen's tightly. His small hands gripped at Yu Chen's robes as if he could somehow hold on to the last remnants of safety, the last thread of comfort he had known in this world. His tears fell, hot and silent, but he refused to let out a single sound—too overwhelmed by grief, too afraid to face the magnitude of the pain.
Yu Chen held him tightly, his heart aching at the sight of the child's suffering. It felt all too familiar, the weight of grief—something he had known intimately in his own past. He had seen it before, in his mother's death, the haunting silence of a loss that never truly healed. But seeing Wei Yu like this… it was different. The boy was only twelve, barely starting to understand the world around him, let alone the dark complexities of life and death.
Yu Chen gently patted the back of Wei Yu's trembling form, his voice soft and steady as he spoke, "Cry, Wei Yu. Let it all out."
The words were simple, but they held a weight of understanding, an unspoken permission. Wei Yu's body seemed to tremble more violently as if those few words unlocked the dam that had been holding back all of his pain. The floodgates opened.
A strangled sob tore from his chest, and suddenly, all the anguish he had been holding in came pouring out. His cries were desperate, raw, and full of grief that was too much for a boy his age to bear.
"Grandpa! Grandpa…" Wei Yu's voice cracked as he choked on his words, the name caught in his throat like a bitter poison. The tears flowed freely now, soaking Yu Chen's robes, as if the boy had been holding this weight for so long and now, at last, he was allowed to let it all go.
Yu Chen's arms tightened around him, a silent protector in the midst of Wei Yu's breakdown. His own heart clenched painfully as he felt the boy's sorrow, but he did not let go. He knew how important this moment was—how essential it was for Wei Yu to grieve, to acknowledge the pain, and not to bottle it up.
"There's no shame in crying, Wei Yu," Yu Chen whispered, his voice low, soothing. "It's okay to hurt. It's okay to feel this pain. You don't have to be strong right now. You're not alone."
Wei Yu's sobs only deepened, the sound of them echoing in the empty, blood-soaked room. He didn't have the words to explain how he felt, how lost he was. The world had been torn from him in an instant, and his grief was a wild, uncontrollable thing that consumed him whole.
Yu Chen held him close, letting the boy cry as long as he needed to. He knew there were no easy answers, no words that could make the pain go away. All he could offer was his presence, his strength, and the reassurance that the boy was not alone in this.
And even though the sight of the lifeless body of Wei Yu's grandfather was a devastating one, Yu Chen also knew that this was the moment where he needed to be everything Wei Yu had lost—everything that his past had failed to provide. He wasn't just a teacher anymore. He was a shield, a protector.
As the tears slowed and Wei Yu's sobs began to quiet into the occasional hiccup, Yu Chen continued to hold him, his mind far away, drifting back to the cold, empty room where his mother's body had once lain—where he had been forced to grow up too soon, to face loss too young. He had sworn then that he would never let anyone else experience that kind of pain alone. And now, with Wei Yu in his arms, he understood that promise more than ever.
After a long while, the boy's sobs began to quiet. His breath was still unsteady, but his body no longer trembled as violently. Wei Yu shifted, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of Yu Chen's robe, his face flushed and streaked with tears. He seemed small and fragile in that moment, so vulnerable in his grief.
Yu Chen finally spoke again, his voice steady, though the weight of the moment lingered between them. "You loved your grandfather very much, didn't you?"
Wei Yu nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "He was all I had left..."
Yu Chen gave a soft, understanding hum, brushing a stray lock of hair from Wei Yu's face. "I know. And I know how much it hurts to lose him."
For a long time, neither of them said anything. The silence in the room felt heavy, but not uncomfortably so. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the kind of silence that acknowledged a shared sorrow.
Wei Yu's eyes were still wide with disbelief, the shock not quite wearing off, but the resolve in Yu Chen's voice seemed to ground him, if only for a moment. He nodded slowly, wiping his eyes one last time. "I… I want to find out who did this. I need to."
Yu Chen nodded, his face a mask of calm determination. "We'll do it together. I won't let you face this alone."
Wei Yu took a shaky breath, his gaze flicking back to his grandfather's body. No, this sudden death. The murderer knew his intentions and killed his grandpa before he could get a definite answer. There must be some clues, but he could'nt let Yu Chen help him lest he found out about him being a mixed blood.