The morning sunlight filtered through the paper-paneled windows of the Hu estate, casting soft patterns on the lacquered wooden floors. The estate sprawled over several acres, a fortress of wealth and power, its high stone walls patrolled by armed guards. Yet, for all its grandeur, it was a prison to Hu Win. He sat by the window in his chamber, absently running his fingers over a polished jade pendant that hung from his neck—a gift from his mother, though it carried little meaning to him now.
Outside, the estate was alive with activity. Servants scurried about, preparing for another day under the watchful eyes of the Hu family. Beyond the walls, the faint sound of villagers bartering at the market teased Hu Win's ears. He had never set foot there, never experienced the simple joy of mingling with common folk.
"Young Master, your father awaits you in the main hall," a servant announced from the other side of the sliding door.
Hu Win sighed. His father's summons rarely brought anything but lectures or orders. Adjusting his silk robes, embroidered with gold thread in the shape of a phoenix, he left his chamber and walked through the halls.
The main hall was a testament to the Hu family's influence. Weapons from distant lands hung on the walls, their edges gleaming even in the dim light. At the center sat Hu Zhen, his father, clad in a dark robe lined with wolf fur. His expression was as cold and unyielding as ever. Beside him sat Madame Liang, her delicate features veiled with an air of quiet resignation.
"Win," his father began, his deep voice resonating through the hall. "You are fifteen now, no longer a child. The time has come for you to take on greater responsibilities. You will begin training in swordsmanship under Master Zhao."
Hu Win clenched his fists at his sides. "Father, I—"
"You will not argue," Hu Zhen interrupted, his tone sharp. "Our family's legacy depends on discipline and strength. You will uphold it."
Madame Liang glanced at her son but said nothing. Her silence, though familiar, stung more than her husband's words.
"Yes, Father," Hu Win replied, his voice hollow.
The day dragged on as it always did. Hu Win's training was rigorous, each strike of the wooden sword a reminder of the expectations that weighed upon him. His instructor, Master Zhao, was relentless, his corrections delivered with the force of a hammer.
By the time dusk fell, Hu Win's body ached, but it was his spirit that bore the greater burden. That night, as he sat alone in his chamber, the moonlight streaming through the window, he made his decision.
"I won't live like this anymore," he whispered to himself.
He reached under his bed, pulling out a bundle he had prepared over weeks—a small pouch of silver coins, a simple tunic and trousers, and a short dagger he had stolen from the armory. The dagger's blade was unadorned but sharp, a symbol of the life he yearned for: simple, dangerous, and free.
Slipping out of his chamber, Hu Win moved through the shadows of the estate. The guards were few at this hour, their torches casting flickering light against the walls. His heart raced as he approached the side gate, his every step accompanied by the fear of discovery.
At the gate, he paused. The world beyond was unknown, filled with both promise and peril. Yet, the thought of spending another day confined within the estate was unbearable.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the gate open. The night air greeted him, cool and refreshing, carrying the scent of wildflowers and damp earth. Hu Win stepped through, leaving behind the wealth and chains of his family.
The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in his life, it was his to walk.