Lin Fang limped through road, the people looking at him showed pity and ridicule in their gazes but no one dare to come and help him, his body battered and bruised, his clothes torn and stained with blood.
As he move slowly but steady even though he was in so much pain, he finally reached his destiny. The once-proud residence of the Lin Clan loomed before him, its grandeur now a faint echo of a more glorious past.
The three-story mansion, with its sweeping eaves and intricate carvings, bore the hallmark of ancient architectural elegance, but its air of desolation was unmistakable.
The Lin family had long fallen from grace, reduced to a second-ranked household in Red Leaf City. In stark contrast, the Zhao Clan, who now ruled the city's social and political hierarchy, reveled in their dominance.
As Lin Fang stumbled through the ornate gates of his family estate, the soft glow of lanterns illuminated his battered form. The guard on duty, a loyal retainer who had served the Lin family for years, was the first to spot him. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of the young master's bruised face and bloodstained clothes.
"Young Master!" the guard exclaimed, rushing forward. His voice trembled with a mix of concern and anger. "What happened to you? Who did this to you?"
Lin Fang stopped in his tracks, his breathing ragged. He looked up at the guard, his face pale from exhaustion and blood loss. Despite the torment etched on his features, he managed a faint, defeated smile.
"It was me," Lin Fang said softly, his voice hoarse and strained. "I did this to myself."
The guard froze, confusion flashing across his face. "Young Master... what do you mean? How could you—"
"Enough," Lin Fang interrupted, clutching his stomach as a fresh trickle of blood seeped between his fingers. His body swayed, barely able to stand under the weight of his injuries. "Just... take me to my room. I can't hold on much longer."
Though the guard didn't understand his young master's cryptic words, he knew better than to press further. Bowing his head, he stepped forward and offered his shoulder for support. Lin Fang leaned against him, each step a testament to his willpower as they made their way into the dim corridors of the Lin residence.
As they walked, the guard couldn't shake the unease gnawing at his heart. Whatever had happened to Lin Fang, it wasn't just physical wounds that troubled him—there was something deeper, something broken in his young master's gaze.
As Lin Fang stepped into the dimly lit hall, memories surged unbidden to his mind. His father's stern yet kind visage flashed before him—a man who had been the pillar of their family, brutally taken away months ago.
The Zhao Clan, despicable as they were, had orchestrated his death, using the most savages of bandits to carry out their dirty work. They had sent his severed head as a message, throwing it at the feet of Lin Fang's mother.
His mother—now the head of their broken family—had swallowed her rage, knowing that any retaliation would bring swift destruction. The Zhao Clan had aligned themselves with powerful allies: the Cai Clan, the Chen Clan, and others who sought the Lin family's downfall to gain more resources. Every move they made was calculated, every betrayal meticulously planned.
The betrayal of his fiancée was no exception. Lin Fang clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he recalled her tearful face. He knew she had loved him once, but love meant little when weighed against the schemes of her Cai Clan.
She had played her role well, leading him into a trap under the guise of loyalty. Her family had used his emotions against him, orchestrating today's humiliation to appear as though it was Lin Fang who acted first.
'Zhao Clan, Cai Clan, Chen Clan...' Lin Fang's thoughts burned with hatred, his body trembling with suppressed fury. 'I will remember this humiliation and carve it into your very souls. Just wait....wait until you see what you have created.'
His eyes gleamed with a dark resolve as he stumbled toward his room. Every step sent jolts of pain through his broken body, but his spirit remained unyielding.
The guard carefully helped Lin Fang to his bed, his movements gentle despite the tension evident in his face. Lin Fang gritted his teeth as the sharp pain in his abdomen flared, but he said nothing. The moment he sat on the edge of the bed, the guard hovered briefly, making sure he was steady before guiding him to lie down.
"You need rest, Young Master," the guard said quietly, his voice filled with worry. He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the door as though debating his next course of action.
Lin Fang, sensing the guard's intent, forced himself to speak. "Wait—"
But before he could finish, the guard had already bowed deeply. "Rest well, Young Master," he said and quickly stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him before Lin Fang could protest.
Lin Fang let out a frustrated sigh, his body too weak to pursue him. He clenched his fist against the mattress, his mind racing.
'He's going to tell Mother,' Lin Fang thought bitterly. He wanted to stop him, to explain, but his injuries had drained him of all energy. His mother had enough burdens to bear. If she saw him in this state, it might push her over the edge. She had already lost so much—her husband, her position, her dignity—and seeing her only son bloodied and broken might finally break her restraint.
'I can't let her snap,' he thought, his chest heaving with a labored breath. 'If she acts impulsively, the Zhao Clan will seize the excuse they've been waiting for.'
But there was nothing he could do now. His vision blurred as exhaustion weighed heavily on him.
The door flew open with a force that sent a gust of wind sweeping across the room, causing the curtains to flutter wildly. A figure stepped inside, her presence commanding, her beauty matched only by the aura of power that still lingered despite the passing of years.
Lin Fang's mother, The proud matriarch of the Lin family, now stood before him—her expression a blend of shock and sorrow. Her gaze immediately fell upon her son, lying on the bed in a battered state, his body broken, blood staining his clothes.
Her heart clenched. The sight of her son—the one light in her otherwise dim world—reduced to this weakened, helpless state was too much to bear. Anger flared in her chest, the flames of a mother's fury rising to consume her calm. But before she could act, a voice, weak but familiar, stopped her.
"Don't," Lin Fang whispered, his voice laced with pain but steady.
His mother froze, her eyes locking with his. Though he lay there, beaten and bloodied, his smile—albeit strained—was an echo of the son she once knew.
"Don't get angry, Mother," Lin Fang continued softly, his voice almost gentle despite the torment coursing through his body. "It was my fault. I was the one who was hot-headed. This happened because of my own mistakes. It's okay... don't worry. I'll be fine."
But she couldn't suppress the torrent of emotions rising within her. She stepped forward, her movements desperate, and in one fluid motion, climbed onto the bed beside him. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him close despite the bloodstains on his clothing. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she buried her face in his shoulder.
"Why? Why is this happening to us?" she cried softly, her voice cracking under the weight of years of hardship. "We never did anything wrong, but why is the world punishing our family?"
Lin Fang's heart twisted painfully at her words. A deep pang of guilt shot through him, but it was quickly replaced by something fiercer—anger. Anger for the injustice, for the cruel world that had torn apart his family.
'Why... why does it always have to be the innocent that suffer?'
His mother had carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had stood strong for so long, and yet now, in this moment, she was broken by the very forces she had tried to shield them from.
Lin Fang clenched his fists, the pain in his body momentarily forgotten as his thoughts grew sharper. The anger, the righteous fury that had been simmering within him since his humiliation, now exploded in full force.
'They made her cry... they killed my father, they broke my family.'
A fire ignited in his chest, an inferno fueled by every injustice he had endured, every slight that had been cast upon him. His anger was not just for himself anymore—it was for his family, for the weakness that had allowed them to be trampled upon.
'Zhao Clan, Cai Clan, Chen Clan... I will make them pay. I will return this humiliation a hundredfold. No mercy. No forgiveness.'