The early morning light poured gently into Yan Zi's room, a soft golden hue that spread across the wooden floor, illuminating every corner. Outside, the world was alive, bathed in sunlight, as if the sky itself was washing away the remnants of the night. Birds fluttered around the trees, their songs a cheerful greeting to the new day. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dew-soaked earth, and a light breeze rustled the leaves, sending a ripple through the courtyard. It was a peaceful morning, one that should have brought a sense of tranquility, but for Yan Zi, it was a time of inner turmoil.
He lay still on his bed, his body feeling the weight of the night's thoughts. The voice that had echoed in his mind just before he slept still lingered in the back of his thoughts. "Kid, you seem to be carrying a lot… being so young." The mysterious voice, always there but never seen, stirred something within him—a growing unease. But as the sunlight touched his face, he shook his head and pushed those thoughts aside. No matter how much it haunted him, he couldn't afford to be distracted by something he couldn't understand.
With a deep sigh, Yan Zi swung his legs off the side of the bed and planted his feet on the cool floor. He rubbed his temples, the weight of his worries evident on his face. "No, I can't waste time on this," he muttered to himself. "I have more pressing matters." He stood up and stretched, taking a deep breath as he opened the window, letting the fresh air flood in. It was a bright, sunny day—perfect for clearing his mind.
The courtyard outside was already bustling with activity. Servants moved about, tending to the garden, cleaning, and preparing for the day. It was a familiar scene, one that usually filled him with a sense of belonging, but today it only seemed distant. His mind was elsewhere, occupied by his father's disappearance, the unresolved mystery, and the sense of frustration that gnawed at him like an insistent ache.
"I can't keep dwelling on things I don't understand," he muttered, trying to shake off the heaviness in his chest. "I'll focus on what I can do." With a final glance at the courtyard, he decided to take a walk. Maybe the fresh air would clear his mind.
Stepping outside, Yan Zi walked slowly through the familiar grounds of the clan estate. The warmth of the sun touched his skin, and the peacefulness of the surroundings seemed to calm his nerves, if only slightly. He noticed the flowers blooming brightly in the garden, the vibrant reds, yellows, and purples standing out against the greenery. The rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds became a soothing backdrop to his thoughts. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was normal, as if his life had not been turned upside down by the disappearance of his father.
As he walked, he was drawn to the distant sound of footsteps. He turned to see his mother, Yan Mei, and his grandfather, Yan Lian, walking toward the gates of the estate. The sight of them brought a strange mix of emotions—comfort, but also a renewed sense of urgency. Yan Mei's face was tired, her steps slow but purposeful, and Yan Lian walked beside her with the same calm demeanor he always carried. Their presence was familiar, yet something about today felt different.
"Mother! Grandfather!" Yan Zi called out as he approached them.
Yan Mei looked up at the sound of her son's voice and smiled warmly. "Zi'er, you're awake," she said with a soft sigh of relief. "Your grandfather and I just returned from Featherfall City."
Yan Zi nodded, his gaze shifting to his mother's weary face. "Did you find anything?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Yan Mei shook her head slowly, a sorrowful expression settling on her face. "No, son," she replied quietly, her voice almost breaking. "There's still no trace of your father. But…" She hesitated, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find the right words. "We've been thinking. This place feels so empty now, and with everything that has happened…" She trailed off, the sadness in her eyes deepening. "We've decided to leave for Featherfall City. Perhaps there we can find more information, or at least some leads. It might help us understand what happened to him."
Yan Zi felt a tightness in his chest. His hands clenched into fists, and his jaw set. "No," he said firmly, surprising even himself with the intensity of his words. "I think I should stay here."
His mother's expression faltered. "What?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "No, son, you must come with us. We've already lost your father, I…" She stopped, her face crumpling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't lose you too," she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions.
The sight of his mother in such distress twisted something inside Yan Zi. His heart ached for her, for the pain she had endured. But his own sense of duty, his own burning need for answers, outweighed everything else. "Mother…" His voice was soft but full of determination. "I can't just sit here and wait. I can't leave things unresolved."
Yan Mei reached out, her hands trembling as she grasped his arm. "Zi'er, please understand," she pleaded, her voice full of desperation. "I can't bear the thought of losing you too. I'm all alone without your father."
Yan Zi's chest tightened, but he held his ground. "How can I sit idly by when Father is missing?" His voice shook with the weight of his conviction. "I'm the only son you and Father have. Since birth, I've faced nothing but humiliation and scorn because of my lack of cultivation talent. I've been looked down upon, abandoned by people who once called me family. But even in my lowest moments, Father always believed in me. He was there to encourage me, to help me rise when I felt like I couldn't go on. And now he's gone. How can I not search for him? How can I abandon him, when he never gave up on me?"
Yan Mei's eyes shimmered with tears, but she nodded, wiping them away with trembling hands. "Zi'er," she whispered, her voice full of sorrow and love. "I understand. But please promise me you'll be careful. I can't bear to lose you."
Yan Zi clenched his fists, the fire of determination burning in his eyes. "I promise, Mother. I'll be careful."
Yan Lian, who had been watching the exchange in silence, finally spoke, his voice booming with warmth and pride. "That's my grandson!" he said with a hearty laugh. "Stubborn as a mule, just like his father. Mei, don't worry. Nothing will happen to him. He has his uncle here, and I have faith in him."
Yan Mei looked at her father-in-law, then at her son. A mixture of emotions crossed her face—love, pride, fear—but in the end, she simply sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing. "I know you'll be alright," she said softly. "Just… be careful, okay?"
"I will, Mother," Yan Zi replied, his voice steady as he stepped forward and embraced her gently. "I'll find Father. I promise."
After a long moment, Yan Mei and Yan Lian turned to leave, their figures slowly fading into the distance. Yan Zi stood there for a while, watching them go. As they disappeared from view, he whispered to himself, his voice filled with a fierce resolve, "I won't let you down, Father. Whoever is behind this… they will pay."
The sun continued to rise, casting its light over the world, but for Yan Zi, the journey ahead would be long, filled with uncertainty and danger. Yet in that moment, as he stood alone, he knew one thing for sure: he would not rest until he uncovered the truth and brought justice for his father.
As Yan Zi turned back from watching his mother and grandfather disappear into the distance, his sharp eyes caught sight of a figure moving stealthily along the pathway on the far side of the courtyard. Squinting against the bright morning light, he quickly recognized the silhouette—it was Third Elder Gong.
Yan Zi frowned. What is he doing here so early? The elder seemed to be in a hurry, his pace quick but measured. He wasn't alone. Beside him was a tall, cloaked man whose face was hidden under a hood. Their hushed voices and cautious movements raised Yan Zi's suspicions immediately.
He observed them silently, his heart beating faster with curiosity. They were heading toward the edge of the estate, toward the abandoned wreck house—a place long forgotten by the Yan family. Its broken windows and moss-covered walls stood as a haunting reminder of disrepair. What could they possibly want there?
Yan Zi's brows furrowed in thought. The wreck house wasn't even a storeroom; it had been deemed unsafe long ago due to its crumbling foundation. No one ever went there, not even servants. The curiosity gnawed at him. This can't be a coincidence, he thought, his jaw tightening. Why would Elder Gong go there of all places? And with someone so suspicious?
Determined to uncover the truth, Yan Zi moved cautiously, following at a safe distance. His footsteps were light, his body pressed close to the shadows cast by the estate's walls. He took care not to make any noise, his breathing steady but shallow. Years of enduring scorn and isolation had taught him how to move unnoticed—how to survive when the world felt hostile.
As Elder Gong and the hooded figure approached the wreck house, they stopped just outside the broken door. The elder turned his head sharply, his eyes scanning the surroundings like a hawk. Yan Zi quickly ducked behind a thick tree trunk, his heart pounding in his chest. He held his breath, his fingers curling into the rough bark as he peered around cautiously.
The elder lingered for a moment, his sharp gaze sweeping over the quiet courtyard. Yan Zi's body was tense, his muscles coiled like a spring. Did he notice something? he wondered, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
Finally, Elder Gong seemed satisfied. He nodded to the cloaked man, who pulled the creaky door open, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet morning air. The two figures slipped inside, and the door shut behind them with a muffled thud.
Yan Zi exhaled softly, the tension in his chest easing slightly. He stepped out from his hiding place, his eyes fixed on the wreck house. "Why would Elder Gong come here?" he murmured under his breath. "It's not even a storeroom, and there's nothing of value inside… or is there?"
His mind raced with possibilities. What could they be doing? He couldn't shake the feeling that this was tied to something bigger—something dangerous. Clenching his fists, he steeled his resolve. If this was related to his father's disappearance, he had to know.
Carefully, he approached the wreck house, his movements deliberate and slow. The closer he got, the more his heart thudded against his ribs, the anticipation almost unbearable. He reached the door and pressed his ear against it, trying to catch any snippets of their conversation.
At first, he heard nothing but the faint rustling of leaves outside and the distant chirping of birds. Then, muffled voices began to seep through the cracks in the wood. They were low and urgent, their words indiscernible but heavy with meaning. Yan Zi strained to hear, his brows knitting together in concentration.
What are they talking about? he thought, frustration creeping in. He adjusted his position slightly, leaning closer to the door, his body tense like a predator stalking its prey.
Suddenly, his foot pressed down on a dry piece of wood, and the sharp crack of it snapping under his weight pierced the silence.
His breath hitched, his eyes widening in alarm.
Inside the house, the voices stopped abruptly. A chilling silence fell, heavy and oppressive. Then came Elder Gong's voice, sharp and commanding, laced with suspicion: "Who's there?"
Yan Zi froze, his body rigid, his mind racing for a way out. The weight of the elder's words hung in the air like a noose tightening around his neck.