The chain he can't break

Chapter :The Weight of Blood

The night air carried the faint scent of damp earth, still fresh from the evening rain. Moonlight cut through the trees in scattered streaks, illuminating the small clearing where the two figures stood.

In the silence, the blood token rested in Jian Hu's palm—dark, round, carved with an insignia neither of them spoke of yet.

Li Xin's gaze was calm, unreadable. He didn't reach for the token, nor did he step closer to inspect it. The weight of its presence was already enough.

Jian Hu, standing beside him, turned the token over between his fingers. "It's fresh," he muttered. "Barely a few days old. Whoever left it behind wasn't being careful."

Li Xin finally spoke, his voice steady. "Or they wanted it to be found."

Jian Hu let out a short breath, half a scoff, half acknowledgment. "A warning?"

"No." Li Xin's eyes lingered on the token, a distant flicker of recognition passing through them. "A message."

Jian Hu frowned, his grip tightening. "You recognize it."

Silence stretched between them. The wind rustled the treetops, shifting the shadows around them.

Finally, Li Xin turned away. "It doesn't matter."

Jian Hu's frustration was barely concealed. "It doesn't matter?" He took a step forward, blocking Li Xin's path. "Someone tried to kill me. And now we're holding their token. You expect me to just let that go?"

Li Xin's expression didn't change. "Would knowing their name change the fact that they already failed?"

Jian Hu stared at him, searching his face for something—an answer, a reaction, anything. But Li Xin remained as he always was. Unshaken. Unmoved.

The token pressed against Jian Hu's palm, its edges sharp against his skin. He exhaled sharply and slipped it into his sleeve. "Fine," he said. "Then let's see how long it takes before they send another."

Li Xin didn't reply.

The night stretched on, quiet and watchful. Somewhere in the distance, an owl cried—a lonely, lingering sound.

For now, the token remained with them. And with it, the weight of whatever past Li Xin refused to speak of.

Got it! Continuing the scene with the hidden observer.

A shadow lingered in the distance.

Hidden behind the dense treetops, the figure stood perfectly still, blending into the darkness. Their breathing was shallow, their presence almost undetectable—almost.

From the cover of the night, they watched.

The two men stood in the clearing, their voices carried faintly by the wind. The blood token had been found. The conversation had been heard.

So, he recognized it after all.

A gloved hand pressed against the bark of a nearby tree, fingers tightening slightly. This was unexpected. The attack had failed, but that didn't matter. The real goal had never been to kill.

It had been to test.

To see if the man called Li Xin would react. If the past he had buried would rise again.

Now, watching him stand there—unshaken, unreadable—the watcher wasn't sure.

Was he truly unaffected? Or was the storm simply hidden beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to break free?

The wind shifted, rustling the leaves. The shadow stepped back, melting into the forest. They had seen enough.

Tonight was only the beginning.

Soon, Li Xin would have no choice but to look back.

Got it! Continuing with the shadow returning to the sect that stole the sword.

The shadow moved swiftly through the forest, their steps light, their presence like a passing breeze. Within moments, they vanished into the night, heading toward their true destination.

Deep within the mountains, hidden behind layers of towering cliffs, lay the sect that had stolen the sword.

It was a place few outsiders had ever seen—a fortress disguised as a sanctuary, with high walls and stone courtyards bathed in the dim glow of lanterns. The sect's disciples moved like silent phantoms, their robes dark, their weapons concealed beneath flowing sleeves.

The shadow arrived at the gates, barely stopping before slipping inside. The guards, recognizing them, did not interfere.

They knew where to go.

Through the winding corridors, up the stone steps, until they reached a grand hall where he awaited.

Seated at the head of the room, dressed in deep crimson robes, was a man of authority. His expression was calm, but the air around him was suffocating—a presence that demanded obedience without a single word.

The shadow knelt without hesitation.

"Speak." The man's voice was smooth, yet cold as steel.

The shadow lowered their head. "Li Xin has the blood token."

For a moment, silence hung in the air. The man's fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair.

"And?"

"He recognized it but showed no reaction. He did not pursue the matter."

The tapping stopped. A slow, amused breath left the man's lips.

"As expected."

The shadow hesitated. "However… he was not alone."

The amusement faded.

"Who?"

"A man named Jian Hu. He was the one attacked. He seems determined to investigate."

The hall grew colder. The disciples standing in the corners stiffened, sensing their leader's mood shift.

Then, after a long pause, the man in crimson smiled.

"It doesn't matter." His fingers traced the edge of his cup, leisurely. "Sooner or later… Li Xin will step forward."

He lifted his gaze to the kneeling figure.

"Watch them. If Jian Hu becomes a problem, remove him."

The shadow bowed deeply. "Understood."

And just like that, the night continued. Plans moved unseen. The stolen sword remained hidden.

And somewhere in the darkness, fate was already closing in on Li Xin.

Got it! Moving to the master's scene with his appearance and hidden nature.

Within the grand halls of Qingxu Pavilion, where incense curled in soft tendrils and disciples moved in silent reverence, a man sat upon the central dais.

His name was Master Xuan Zhen.

Draped in white and silver robes embroidered with intricate cloud patterns, he embodied righteousness itself. His long, greying hair was neatly tied, and his sharp eyes held the wisdom of decades. Even in old age, his presence was unwavering—a man of profound virtue, a pillar of the martial world.

To his disciples, he was a guiding light, a teacher who had shaped their paths with kindness and discipline. They knelt before him with respect, hanging onto his every word, believing in his wisdom without question.

But none of them knew the truth hidden beneath that benevolent facade.

The past he had buried.

The sins that still lingered in the shadows.

And the existence he wished to erase—Li Xin.

Master Xuan Zhen's fingers pressed lightly against the wooden table beside him, his expression calm as a disciple stepped forward, bowing deeply.

"Master," the young man said, voice filled with devotion. "The men we sent have not returned. It seems… the blood token has fallen into Li Xin's hands."

The room fell silent.

The disciples around them exchanged glances, unaware of the deeper meaning behind those words. To them, Li Xin was nothing more than a forgotten name, an outsider with no ties to their great sect.

But Master Xuan Zhen's gaze darkened ever so slightly.

"He remains as indifferent as ever, I assume."

"Yes, Master," the disciple confirmed. "He ignored the token. However… another man named Jian Hu was with him. He may begin searching for answers."

Master Xuan Zhen exhaled slowly, as if contemplating.

Then, with a soft smile, he placed a hand on the disciple's shoulder.

"You have done well," he said, his voice warm, reassuring. "Leave this matter to me."

The young man's eyes filled with admiration. "Yes, Master!" He bowed deeply before stepping away.

As the disciples departed, whispering among themselves about their great teacher's wisdom, Master Xuan Zhen remained seated.

Alone in the vast hall, his serene expression slowly faded, replaced by something colder—something unreadable.

"Li Xin… You should not have lived this long."

His fingers curled slightly, a quiet storm stirring beneath his calm exterior.

Soon, he would ensure that Li Xin's existence was erased for good.

The night air was crisp, carrying the distant scent of burning oil from the lanterns that lined the streets. Li Xin walked ahead, silent as ever, his long dark hair swaying slightly with each step. Jian Hu followed beside him, his expression tense, his thoughts unspoken for a long moment—until he could hold them back no longer.

"You're really just going to ignore it?"

Li Xin didn't stop walking.

Jian Hu let out a sharp breath. "I don't understand you. That blood token—you know what it means, don't you?"

Still, no response.

Annoyance flickered across Jian Hu's face. He stepped in front of Li Xin, blocking his path. "You don't care, huh?" His voice dropped, laced with frustration. "Fine. Then tell me—what will you do when the next one comes? And the next? Just stand there and wait?"

Li Xin finally looked at him. His gaze was unreadable, deep as still water. "If I die, I die."

Jian Hu's fist clenched. "So that's it? After all these years, that's the kind of man you've become?" His voice was tight with disbelief. "They're coming for you, Li Xin. Not just one or two. The moment you held that blood token, your death was already decided. You think they'll let you live like this forever? Selling buns? Acting like none of it concerns you?"

Silence.

Jian Hu's voice dropped lower, his tone serious now. "Even if you don't care about your life, don't you at least want to know who's behind it?"

A flicker of something crossed Li Xin's expression, so faint it was almost imperceptible. But Jian Hu caught it.

Good.

That meant something still existed inside him—something beyond this empty detachment.

Jian Hu exhaled sharply. "If you continue like this, you won't even know when the sword is at your throat." His voice was firm now, pressing the weight of reality onto Li Xin. "At least find out why they want you dead. That's the least you owe yourself."

The two stood there in the dim glow of the lanterns, the streets around them eerily quiet.

After a long moment, Li Xin moved again, stepping past Jian Hu without a word.

Jian Hu turned, watching him go, frustration evident in his gaze.

But then, just before disappearing into the darkness, Li Xin's voice drifted back—low, calm, yet carrying a weight that couldn't be ignored.

"…I'll think about it."

Jian Hu let out a slow breath.

That was enough for now.

Jian Hu stood there for a moment, watching as Li Xin's figure disappeared into the night.

A part of him wanted to grab the man by the collar and shake some sense into him, to force him to act before it was too late. But he knew—Li Xin was not someone who could be pushed.

If he moved, it would be by his own will.

Jian Hu exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. "Tch. Stubborn bastard."

The streets stretched out before him, empty and quiet. Somewhere beyond the darkness, a storm was already forming.

And whether Li Xin liked it or not—

It was coming for him.