[Huo Lian]
Huo Lian stood at the edge of the palace room's balcony, the cold wind tousling her short brown hair. Many daughters of kings at her tender age would be dressed in beautiful white dresses with frills at their helm. However little Lian was dressed with leather armor instead of a dress. And instead of a smile on her small adorable face she had a fierce frown resembling a small eagle filled with anger.
From here, she could see the sprawling mountain ranges of northern China, their peaks touching the sky. And the beginning of a capital being made.These were her father's attachments. Unify eight tribes under a single banner and creating a powerful kingdom from them.
Her father, Huo Long, was a formidable ruler, feared and respected by all. His presence was like a storm—powerful, overwhelming, and distant. Despite sharing his blood, she was but a shadow in his realm.This kingdom along with her father abhorred her very existence. Lian had no memory of her father ever holding her; rather, she has no memory of her father ever making eye contact with her. She did not understand why.
Until…
"She would never be able to rule." Said a young guard walking passed.
"Sigh, yes his majesty was not blessed with an heir. Quite unfortunate. What he wanted was a male child, but what he got was a useless girl." exclaimed the older guard while shaking his head.
Little Lian was hiding in a corrido listening to them. Her young mind couldn't understand why she was not wanted and why she couldn't share with her father. However she felt anger, more anger than she herself could understand. They rejected her very existence.
They wanted a male.
A true and powerful heir. Yet what they obtained was her. And she was a woman. In a kingdom that forged on the very blood of the warring tribes of the north. These barbarians who now were wearing silk considered women as their property and never gave them any rights. So much so that she does not even know her mother's name.
However she would not be a plaything of men. She, Huo Lian had pride that was engraved in her bones. They rejected her existence. Then she would beat them into submission. Her inheritance pride, ancient and profound, reached the heavens and back. She was determined to be respected.She was determined to be a warrior. She was determined to rule all with her gaze.
The disdain around her forced her to mature much faster. She understood why her father was respected, Power. Power is what she needed.
Gazing at the moonlight she recalled the memories she had. Lilian was extremely talented. She can recall nearly everything she has ever seen.
She looked back down and started to move her body.
Huo Lian tightened the leather straps on her armor, her fierce eyes reflecting the cold determination she carried within. The training grounds lay silent under the silver light of the moon, a stark contrast to the bustling palace halls. This solitude was her sanctuary, a place where she could hone her skills away from the prying eyes of those who doubted her.
She began with a series of stretching exercises, loosening her muscles and preparing her body for the rigorous training ahead. Each movement was precise, executed with the grace and discipline that belied her young age. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling the satisfying pull in her shoulders and back, before moving into a series of lunges that tested the flexibility and strength of her legs.
Next, she moved on to footwork drills. She had observed the soldiers in her father's army, noting how their stances and movements dictated the flow of battle. She mimicked their steps, her small feet moving swiftly and surely across the dirt ground. Forward, backward, side to side—her feet were a blur of motion, each step calculated to maintain balance and readiness.
After several minutes, she transitioned into shadow boxing. Her fists cut through the air with rapid precision, each punch accompanied by a focused exhale. She imagined an opponent in front of her, dodging and weaving as she delivered a flurry of blows. Her fists connected with the phantom target, the sound of her breath punctuating the still night. Jab, cross, hook, uppercut—she repeated the sequence until her arms burned with effort.
Her next focus was on swordplay. Huo Lian had no formal training, but her keen observational skills had allowed her to learn the basics by watching the palace guards. She retrieved a wooden practice sword from the rack and took a deep breath, centering herself. With a swift, fluid motion, she swung the sword in a downward arc, the wooden blade whistling through the air. She repeated the motion, adjusting her grip and stance each time to improve her form.
She moved on to more complex techniques, incorporating spins and footwork into her routine. Her body moved with a dancer's grace, each step and strike a testament to her dedication. She imagined facing an opponent, parrying their attacks and responding with her own. Her fierce expression never wavered, her mind focused entirely on the task at hand.
As the night wore on, Huo Lian's training grew more intense. She set up a series of makeshift targets—wooden posts and straw dummies—and practiced her strikes with relentless precision. Each blow was delivered with the intention of causing maximum damage, her small frame belying the power behind her strikes. She moved from target to target, her sword a blur of motion as she practiced various techniques.
She paused only to catch her breath, her chest heaving with exertion. Sweat dripped from her brow, stinging her eyes, but she refused to let it deter her. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and resumed her training, her determination unwavering.
Huo Lian knew that physical strength alone was not enough. She needed to cultivate her inner qi, the mystical energy that flowed through all living beings. She had read about it in the ancient texts hidden in the palace archives, and she was determined to master it. She sheathed her wooden sword and sat cross-legged on the ground, her hands resting on her knees.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the flow of energy within her body. She visualized her dantian, the core where her qi was stored, and imagined drawing the energy from it. Slowly, she felt a warmth spread through her body, a gentle hum of power that resonated with her very being. She concentrated on guiding the qi through her meridians, opening and cleansing them with each breath.
The process was slow and arduous, requiring immense focus and discipline. She could feel the energy resisting her control, like a wild horse bucking against a rider. But Huo Lian was relentless, her will as unyielding as iron. She continued to draw and guide the qi, her mind and body in perfect harmony.
After what felt like hours, she opened her eyes, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. She could feel the difference—the energy within her was more stable, more potent. She had made progress, however small, and it fueled her determination to continue.
Her training was far from over. She rose to her feet and began a series of agility drills, her body moving with a speed and fluidity that came from years of practice. She leaped over obstacles, rolled under low beams, and dodged imaginary attacks, her movements a blur in the moonlight. Each drill was designed to test and improve her reflexes, her ability to react swiftly and decisively in combat.
Despite her young age, Huo Lian's training regimen was brutal. She pushed herself to her limits, her body aching with fatigue, but she never faltered. She knew that every drop of sweat, every moment of pain, brought her closer to her goal. She would not be a plaything, a mere daughter of the king. She would be a warrior, a leader, a force to be reckoned with.
As the first light of dawn began to crest over the mountains, Huo Lian completed her final set of exercises. She stood in the center of the training grounds, her body drenched in sweat, her muscles trembling with exhaustion. But there was a fire in her eyes, a fierce determination that burned brighter than ever.
She sheathed her practice sword and took a deep breath, her mind replaying the night's training. She had made progress, but there was still much to learn, much to achieve. She would continue to train, to push herself beyond her limits, until she was the warrior she was destined to be.
With a final glance at the rising sun, Huo Lian turned and made her way back to the palace. Her steps were heavy with fatigue, but her spirit was unbroken. She would face the disdain of her father, the indifference of the kingdom, with her head held high. She was Huo Lian, and she would not be denied.
In the solitude of her chambers, she allowed herself a brief moment of rest. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind already planning her next training session. She would study the texts, observe the soldiers, and continue to hone her skills. She would prove to everyone, including herself, that she was more than just the daughter of Huo Long.
She closed her eyes, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had been building throughout the night. As she drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams were filled with visions of battle, of triumph, and of the respect she so desperately craved. She was determined to forge her own path, to create her own destiny, and no one would stand in her way.
For Huo Lian, the journey had only just begun.
[Zhen Jian]
Zhen Jian stirred as the soft morning sun began to creep through the small window of his humble bedroom, casting a warm glow on his face. The gentle light slowly roused him from his slumber, its touch like a tender caress, urging him to wakefulness. He stretched out lazily, relishing the comfort of his simple, yet familiar bed, and let out a contented sigh.
The sounds of the farm greeted his ears—birds chirping in the nearby trees, the distant lowing of cattle, and the rhythmic clucking of hens. But most prominent of all was the hearty laughter of his father, Zheng Wei, echoing across the fields. Zhen Jian smiled to himself, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over him.
Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching his arms above his head in a leisurely manner. His room was modest, with wooden walls adorned with simple decorations and a small shelf lined with a few cherished belongings, including the old romance novel his mother once treasured. He glanced at it briefly, feeling a familiar pang of longing for the mother he never knew.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him that it was time for breakfast. With a light-hearted chuckle, he made his way to the door, pausing to slip on his worn but sturdy boots. As he stepped outside, the fresh morning air filled his lungs, invigorating him. The farm spread out before him, a patchwork of green fields and animal pens, all bathed in the golden light of dawn.
Zheng Wei's laughter grew louder as Zhen Jian approached the fields. His father was a towering figure, with muscles that rivaled those of a mythical hero. Despite his imposing appearance, Zheng Wei was known for his gentle nature and kind heart. He was guiding a plow through the rich earth, his strength evident in the ease with which he handled the heavy tool.
"Morning, Father!" Zhen Jian called out, waving as he made his way towards the animal pens.
"Morning, son!" Zheng Wei's voice boomed back, filled with warmth. "I see you're finally up! Sleep well?"
"Like a log," Zhen Jian replied with a grin. "I'm going to get breakfast ready."
Zheng Wei laughed again, the sound full of pride and affection. "Good lad. I'll join you soon."
Zhen Jian headed towards the animal pens, where the livestock were already stirring. The goats bleated softly, and the chickens clucked as he approached. He moved with practiced ease, his hands working deftly to gather fresh eggs from the hens and milk from the goats. The animals responded to him with trust, a testament to the care and respect he showed them.
As he worked, he hummed a cheerful tune, the morning sun now fully risen and casting long shadows across the farm. The routine tasks were familiar and comforting, each motion bringing a sense of purpose and satisfaction. He filled a pail with frothy, warm milk and collected a basket of eggs, envisioning the hearty breakfast he would prepare.
With the essentials gathered, Zhen Jian made his way back to the small farmhouse where a simple kitchen awaited. He set the milk and eggs on the wooden counter and began to prepare the meal. Cracking the eggs into a bowl, he whisked them vigorously before pouring the mixture into a hot skillet. The smell of sizzling eggs filled the air, mingling with the fresh aroma of the milk he had just collected.
He couldn't help but smile as he worked, the familiar sounds and smells of the kitchen bringing a sense of homely comfort. As the eggs cooked, he sliced some bread and set it to toast over the fire. Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with the inviting scent of a hearty breakfast.
Zheng Wei's footsteps soon echoed outside the farmhouse, and moments later, he entered the kitchen, his face beaming with pride. "Smells delicious, son!"
"Thanks, Father," Zhen Jian replied, plating the eggs and toast. "It's almost ready."
The two sat down at the small wooden table, the morning sun streaming in through the window and casting a warm glow over the simple meal. They ate in companionable silence, the bond between father and son evident in their easy camaraderie. Despite the simplicity of their life, there was a richness in their connection, a deep sense of love and respect that transcended words.
As they finished their breakfast, Zheng Wei leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "You're a good lad, Zhen Jian. Your mother would be proud of you."
Zhen Jian looked down at his plate, his heart swelling with emotion. "I hope so, Father."
With the morning chores done and breakfast finished, Zhen Jian felt ready to face whatever the day might bring. He knew that, like every other day, there would be hard work ahead. But with his father's laughter echoing in his ears and the warmth of the morning sun on his face, he felt a sense of peace and purpose that would carry him through.
And so, with a final stretch and a contented sigh, Zhen Jian stepped out into the bright new day, ready to embrace the challenges and joys that awaited him on the farm.