The world was cloaked in utter darkness. Yan Zi groaned, his voice weak and hoarse. "Ahh... What happened? Am I not dead yet? Why is it so dark?" he murmured. Slowly, sensation returned to his battered body, every limb aching as if weighed down by stones. He struggled to open his eyes. Blinking against the dim light filtering through the dense canopy above, he realized he was lying on a riverbank, his drenched body partially submerged in the cool water.
Pain radiated from every inch of him. Blood seeped from the deep gash in his arm, a cruel reminder of the arrow that had struck him during his desperate escape. Groaning, he sat up, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Before him lay a vast, tranquil lake, its surface mirroring the towering cliffs above. He tilted his head back to look up, a sharp intake of breath escaping his lips.
"That cliff…" he muttered, his voice shaky. "I fell from there?" The height was dizzying, almost unfathomable.
Just then, a melodic voice broke through his thoughts. "Of course, you're not dead."
Startled, Yan Zi spun around, wincing as pain flared through his injured body. Standing a few paces away was a young woman of striking beauty. Her light brown eyes gleamed with intelligence and mischief, and her bright, flawless complexion seemed to radiate a soft glow. Her long, jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. She wore a simple yet elegant robe, her posture exuding grace and confidence.
Yan Zi stared at her, momentarily stunned by her appearance. Finally, he stammered, "W-who are you? How am I… still alive?"
The girl tilted her head, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Who am I? Let's just say I'm the one who saved you from becoming fish food," she teased. She gestured to the two men standing silently behind her. "We found you floating in the river, half-drowned and barely breathing. If we hadn't pulled you out, you'd be either dead by now or in some beast's belly."
Yan Zi's gaze flickered to the two men—burly, well-armed, and clearly cultivators. He swallowed his pride and replied, "Thank you for saving me. I owe you my life."
He tried to move, but his legs buckled beneath him, sending him back to the ground with a grimace. Blood stained the grass beneath him, his injuries refusing to be ignored. The girl crouched beside him, pulling out a small jade bottle from her pouch. She handed it to him.
"Here," she said, her tone casual. "This is a middle-grade healing pill. It'll help you recover faster. Though I must say," she added with a hint of sarcasm, "for someone without any cultivation talent, you sure like taking risks. Wandering around in a forest like this? Do you have a death wish?"
Yan Zi froze, her words cutting deeper than any blade. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms. For a moment, bitterness surged within him, but he quickly masked his emotions, his hands relaxing.
"I was… chased by a beast," he lied, his voice steady. "I fell from the cliff while trying to escape."
The girl raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but said nothing. She handed him a small map. "When you recover, use this to find your way out of the forest. Consider it a parting gift."
Yan Zi took the map, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you again… I truly appreciate it."
The girl stood, brushing dirt off her robes. "If I were you," she said, "I'd stop wandering around aimlessly. With no cultivation, your best bet is to find work at an inn or a shop. At least that way, you can earn enough to survive."
Yan Zi's lips twitched in annoyance, but he held his tongue. She was right, after all—or at least that's how it appeared to her.
The girl turned, her figure silhouetted against the dim light of the forest. "Ah, I almost forgot. I have important matters to attend to. Stay safe, kid," she said over her shoulder, starting to walk away.
Yan Zi, despite his injuries, called out after her. "Wait! Miss, what's your name? You never told me!"
She paused, glancing back with a faint smile. "Chu Yan." And with that, she disappeared into the shadows, her guards following closely behind.
For a long moment, Yan Zi stared at the spot where she had vanished, her name echoing in his mind. Then, a wry smile tugged at his lips. "She called me 'kid.' Kid! I bet we're the same age!" he muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "What's with that superiority complex?"
Despite his frustration, a small chuckle escaped him, the absurdity of the situation momentarily lifting the weight on his chest. "Chu Yan, huh?" he murmured, leaning back against a rock. His smile faded as the pain from his injuries reminded him of the long road ahead.
He sighed deeply, his resolve hardening. "I may be a 'kid' in her eyes, but this kid is going to prove everyone wrong."
The night deepened, the stars above twinkling faintly as Yan Zi prepared to face whatever challenges awaited him.
The sky was a deep velvet, scattered with twinkling stars. The moon cast its pale light over the forest, illuminating the serene landscape. Yan Zi, though still injured, pushed himself to his feet with great effort. His body screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to let pain defeat him.
Each step was slow and deliberate as he ventured further from the riverbank. Behind him, the sound of the water faded, replaced by the soft rustling of grass swaying in the night breeze. He stumbled into a vast grassy field, the faint glow of ginseng grass scattered across the area calming his tense nerves.
"The entire field is covered in ginseng grass," he muttered to himself. "No beasts would dare come near this place."
Knowing he wasn't strong enough to leave the forest yet, he decided to rest for the night. He found a soft patch of grass and carefully lowered himself onto it. Gazing up at the sky, he let out a weary sigh, his body sinking into the comforting embrace of the earth.
The stars above twinkled like tiny diamonds, their cold light contrasting with the warmth of his memories. His thoughts began to wander, a flood of emotions washing over him.
"So much has happened," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I don't know if Uncle has returned… or if Mother has already received the news."
The thought of his mother's reaction struck him like a knife to the chest. He imagined her face, her tears, her grief upon hearing that he was gone. A lump formed in his throat, and his vision blurred with unshed tears. He clenched his fists, the pain of his injuries dwarfed by the ache in his heart.
"I need to survive," he whispered. "I have to find a way back… to let them know I'm alive."
Exhaustion began to take over as his body sought respite. He turned to his side, curling up slightly to shield himself from the chill of the night. Slowly, his breathing evened out, his eyes closing as sleep claimed him under the vast expanse of the starry sky.
The night enveloped the forest like a dark velvet shroud, quiet save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of nocturnal creatures. The moon hung high, its light painting the earth in hues of silver and shadow.
Yan Zi, still nursing his injuries, pushed himself up from the damp ground beside the river. His legs wobbled, and every movement sent sharp jolts of pain through his battered body. The cuts on his arms and legs throbbed, each pulse a reminder of the cliff he had fallen from. He looked up, his gaze tracing the sheer height of the cliff that loomed above him.
"I fell from all the way up there…" he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "And yet, I'm still alive."
The cold realization of his survival sent a shiver down his spine. Was it luck, or was it fate?
Each step he took was labored, his body threatening to collapse with every move. The distant sound of water faded as he walked toward a vast grassy field illuminated by the faint glow of ginseng grass. The soft, delicate light from the grass bathed the area in a surreal, almost otherworldly glow.
"This place…" he murmured, recognizing the significance of the field. "No beasts would dare come here with so much ginseng grass around."
He carefully lowered himself onto a patch of grass, wincing as his wounds protested. Lying on his back, he gazed up at the sky, his chest rising and falling with slow, shallow breaths. The stars above twinkled like scattered jewels, their cold beauty a stark contrast to the turmoil within his heart.
His mind wandered, memories surfacing like ghosts in the night.
"So much has happened…" he whispered, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "Uncle… has he returned? And Mother… has she heard?"
The thought of his mother, her reaction to the news of his supposed death, sent a sharp pang through his chest. He could almost see her face—her shock, her tears, her overwhelming grief. The image broke him.
"I'm sorry, Mother…" he murmured, his voice cracking. "I'll find a way back… I have to… so you know I'm still here."
A lump formed in his throat, and for a moment, he allowed himself the vulnerability of tears. They trickled silently down his dirt-streaked face, mingling with the dried blood and sweat. But even in his sorrow, there was resolve—a determination to survive and make it back to the people who mattered.
Exhaustion began to creep in, his body demanding rest. He turned on his side, curling up slightly for warmth as the chill of the night deepened. The soft glow of the ginseng grass surrounded him like a protective barrier. Slowly, his breathing evened out, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep claimed him.
---
In the Yan Clan Residence
Far from the forest, the Yan Clan residence lay shrouded in a similar quiet. High atop a massive stone platform, Yan Ru stood, her figure silhouetted against the moonlit sky. The night wind tugged at her robes and long, flowing hair, which shimmered like silk under the moonlight.
The ethereal glow of the moon cast her in a hauntingly beautiful light, her features delicate yet sharp, her expression distant and unreadable. She stood motionless, her arms crossed loosely as she stared up at the vast expanse of stars above.
Her mind was a tempest of emotions, the events of the day replaying endlessly in her thoughts. The laughter of Elder Gong, the cold indifference of her father, and the devastating realization that Yan Zi was gone.
"Yan Zi…" she whispered, her voice barely louder than the breeze.
The name lingered in the air, carrying the weight of her sorrow, her guilt, and the emotions she could no longer suppress. She thought of his kind smile, his resilience, his unwavering spirit. And now, he was gone. A cruel twist of fate had ripped him away, leaving a void she couldn't fill.
Her heart ached, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. Was there something she could have done? Was it her fault for not standing up for him sooner?
The moonlight caught the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes, though none fell. Her grief was silent, restrained, yet no less intense. The stars above seemed dimmer, their light unable to match the fire of her pain.
For a long time, she stood there, unmoving. The world around her seemed to fade, leaving her alone in her sorrow. Only the wind dared to touch her, carrying with it the faint scent of the night.
Finally, she closed her eyes and let out a slow, trembling breath. Her lips parted again, but this time, no words came. There was nothing more to say, nothing that could ease the ache in her chest.
The night stretched on, silent and unyielding, a witness to the grief of two souls—one fighting to survive against all odds, and the other mourning a loss too great to bear.