The next steps

The meeting room was large, bathed in the flickering light of silk lanterns. The soft scent of incense hung in the air. In the center, a dark mahogany table surrounded by carved chairs dominated the room. The red carpet muffled footsteps, while a golden screen behind the main seat bore a symbol of a whirlwind with a spear.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Come in." The voice was firm, but heavy with weariness.

The door slid open, and a man in simple attire but with a commanding presence entered. He bowed slightly before speaking.

"Bai Yu, I have something to report."

Feng Bai Yu's eyes, faintly obscured by gray locks near his temples, narrowed.

"Tell me, Feng Ruang. What was so urgent that you requested this meeting?"

Feng Ruang did not hesitate.

"I'll put it bluntly. Your son tested a golden talent." 

Silence. Feng Bai Yu frowned. The glow in his eyes intensified, but his expression remained cold. 

"That's troublesome. Who was in the testing room at that time?" 

"Six children. Children of elders. But I made them all swear under their martial hearts that they wouldn't reveal anything. I think you know what that means." 

Feng Bai Yu leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming on the table. 

"Good. I've long suspected that there are spies in the upper echelons of the clan."

Feng Ruang nodded. 

"Is the Bai Clan predicting our movements again?" 

Feng Bai Yu let out a cold laugh. 

"Great Elder, in time, you'll realize that the Bai Clan is the least of our worries." 

He waved his hand. 

"Let my son grieve. This is his first loss. Then, I want you to teach him personally. It would be an honor to have him as a teacher, just as I was." 

Feng Ruan smiled, his eyes carrying a deep, unfathomable glow. 

"I had already planned to do so, even without your request. There are two good seeds in this generation, let us dedicate them to the clan. I will accept the orphan Feng Hao as well."

He slowly stood up, the shadows wavering around him as if hesitant to let him go. His voice, low and drawn out, echoed through the room. 

"Bai Yu, I hope to see the Bai Clan in ruins… burn them to ashes. For young Bai Xu." 

In the next instant, his silhouette flickered and dissipated like a mirage, leaving only the oppressive silence. Feng Bai Yu remained motionless. The light from the lanterns flickered, casting long, distorted shadows across his face. His gaze pierced the void, a cold crack between his furrowed brows.

Feng Bai Yu remained seated, his gaze fixed on the void. His brow furrowed slightly as he muttered to himself thoughtfully.

"The Bai Clan, is it?"

--------------------------

A few months later

In the training yard, a young man was relentlessly striking a tree.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each punch dug into the bark, cracking the wood in jagged patterns. His fist was already swollen, his knuckles red and sore. But he wouldn't stop.

"If only I were stronger…"

If only I were stronger…!

The thoughts repeated themselves like a mantra, consuming his mind.

The young man was Feng Lian Bai Zhen. His body was shaking, but not from exhaustion. What burned inside him was fury. Anger at himself. Anger at his weakness.

His clothes were dirty with dust and sweat. The blue-gray linen of his attire, dyed like a stormy sky, clung to his skin. The short sleeves revealed arms scarred from relentless training, while metal plates finely sewn into his forearms and shins provided a modicum of protection. Around his waist, a black sash indicated his position as an elite disciple within the Feng Clan.

On his chest, the clan crest shone in the sunlight. A fierce whirlwind, intertwined with the silhouette of a raised spear—a symbol of the storm that swept across the battlefields.

He raised his fist again, about to strike once more.

Then, a voice cut through the air like a cold blade. 

"Are you still in this self-righteous self-pity?"

Bai Zhen froze. His heavy breathing echoed in the silence. He gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead throbbing.

"Feng Hao…" He slowly turned around, his dark eyes carrying a dark glint. 

"Don't provoke me. I don't feel like listening to your voice today."

"You're still the same as always, Bai Zhen."

Feng Hao crossed his arms, watching him with disdain. 

"Instead of randomly punching a tree, why don't you practice properly?"

Bai Zhen's jaw clenched. His fingers clenched into a trembling fist.

"Feng Hao…" His voice was low and hoarse. "I'm warning you. Leave me alone."

"Or what?" Feng Hao laughed. "Are you going to recklessly jump on me? I believe you have no more brothers to be killed by your recklessness. As your cousin, should I worry about being next?"

The words cut deeper than a blade.

A boom.

Bai Zhen moved without thinking. His figure shot forward like lightning. The air trembled as his fist struck.

The blow was brutal. The tree behind him was still trembling from the marks he had left on it. If it connected, Feng Hao would be thrown away!

But before the punch could reach him—

A strong hand grabbed his wrist at the last moment.

Pang!

It was as if he had hit a wall.

It was Feng Hao.

Bai Zhen's eyes widened. How…? He hadn't even seen his cousin move!

The next instant, a blow sank into his stomach.

Bam!

The air was knocked out of his lungs. His body was pushed backwards, his feet dragging across the stone floor. He fell, supporting himself with his arm to keep from collapsing completely.

Feng Hao just looked down at him, impassive.

"With that blow, you would be dead if this were a real battle."

Bai Zhen gritted his teeth. He wanted to get up and continue, but his body refused to obey.

"Do you still not understand?" Feng Hao's voice carried a cold heaviness. "Strength isn't everything. If it were, how the hell would a Martial Emperor die in combat?"

"There are many ways to kill someone stronger than you, Bai Zhen." He turned slightly, crossing his arms. "And taking advantage of a fool's impulsiveness is one of them."

The anger within Bai Zhen began to dissipate, replaced by something worse—humiliation.

Feng Hao continued,

"You have more talent than I do." His words were blunt, cutting. "But even so, I reached the Martial Warrior level before you."

Bai Zhen clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Listen to the elders. They know what they're talking about."

Feng Hao then took something out of his robe—a jade slip, glistening in the sunlight.

He threw it toward Bai Zhen, who instinctively caught it in midair.

"Catch it."

"Great Elder Feng Ruan is summoning you."

---------

The room was brightly lit, the swirling patterns on the walls seemingly spinning in the flickering light of the lanterns. A dark-haired youth hurried in, his eyes carrying a cold, unyielding glint.

"Grand Elder, I heard you wanted to see me."

It was Bai Zhen. There was a subtle trace of disgust in his expression, a lingering shadow in his gaze.

Feng Ruang stared at him unhurriedly, her countenance unshakable like an insurmountable mountain.

"Bai Zhen, it's past time to get over this useless grief and begin your true training. Randomly punching trees won't make you stronger."

His tone was like a cold blade slicing through the room—an order, not a suggestion.

Bai Zhen's gaze darkened, a hint of revolt emerging.

"Grand Elder, what do you expect me to do? Forget? Pretend I didn't see my brother die before my eyes?"

Feng Ruang laughed softly, but his voice carried a crushing weight.

"Bai Zhen, you are naive. Your brother died, and the sun stopped rising? The flowers stopped blooming? The entire world stopped mourning?"

He paused, allowing the words to sink in. 

"A thousand years ago, the last Martial Emperor of the Feng Clan fell. Do you know what that means? A Martial Emperor is the foundation of a clan! Yet, we survived. Have we turned to ash? Have we been forgotten in the dust of history?"

Bai Zhen remained silent, but his heart was beating chaotically.

"Your grandfather, the Patriarch of the Clan, died two hundred years ago. And I, the pillar that remained, stopped? Have I allowed myself to be consumed by grief?"

Feng Ruang took a step forward, her presence filling the air.

"Feng Lian Bai Zhen. Do you know why your name has four characters? Because you are descended from the last Martial Emperor of the Feng Clan. Your grandfather believed that one day a new Emperor would emerge… but he died waiting."

The Great Elder's voice became sharp as a blade's edge.

"Raise your head. As I said at your brother's funeral, the Clan moves forward. And so should you."

Bai Zhen lowered his eyes, sinking into deep thought. The weight of his words were like invisible chains wrapping around his mind.

The silence dragged on before Feng Ruang spoke again.

"I will personally supervise your training. Tomorrow, you will return to study with Master Zhao. He has already educated children of immortals, perhaps even a lost cause like you can learn something."

Without another word, his figure flickered and dissipated like a mirage, leaving Bai Zhen alone.

The room seemed larger now. Emptier.

The young man clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing.

The Clan moves forward.

And he decided at that moment, that he would move on too.

--------------

The training yard was deathly still, the only sound breaking the silence being the rustling of dry leaves as the wind danced around the stone walls. The martial inscriptions carved into the rocks seemed to be watching, as if waiting for something, an imminent judgment. 

The air was thick, heavy with the scent of incense burning in the iron braziers, which seemed to mirror the thick fog in Bai Zhen's mind.

Feng Lian Bai Zhen and Feng Hao stood in a line, their bodies tense like ropes about to snap. Their eyes were fixed on each other, as if the world around them had disappeared. Grand Elder Feng Ruang stood motionless, his presence so imposing that the very air seemed to bend before him. 

His eyes were blank, cold, and not there to enjoy the training, but to observe, to assess, to dismiss.

"Continue." His voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, emotionless, without expectation.

Bai Zhen advanced with the fury of a caged animal, his blows swift and savage. Feng Hao, however, was a patient predator, his movements calculated, his every gesture cool. The fight unfolded with the brutality of a clash between uncontrollable forces and the precision of a sharp blade. 

But then Bai Zhen faltered, an imperceptible but fatal mistake. Feng Hao took advantage, glided around him and, in one fluid movement, struck him in the chest with a direct punch. The impact was blunt, and Bai Zhen fell to the ground, the air being forced from his lungs, pain spreading like fire through his body. The courtyard fell into absolute silence. 

The weight of defeat pressed on Bai Zhen's chest more than any physical pain. He stood up, panting, his eyes burning with humiliation, but his anger was fiercer than the pain. Feng Hao took a step back, his eyes expressionless as stone. He looked at Bai Zhen with utter indifference, as if the young man was not even worthy of his contempt.

"Impulsive."

Feng Hao's voice held no compassion.

"You will never be strong like this. Perhaps another death in front of you is what you need to learn to control yourself."

Bai Zhen felt anger rise in his throat, as if the poison of frustration was corrupting him from within. He raised his head, his eyes blazing.

"What about you? What do you know about loss? What do you know about seeing someone die before your eyes, helpless, without being able to do anything?"

The silence fell like a tide, cold and unbearable. Feng Hao did not respond, his eyes shining with something dark, something that could not be understood. He turned and walked outside, his heavy footsteps echoing in the stone courtyard.

"Excuse me, Great Elder." 

Feng Hao left with an indifferent tone, as if he were walking away from an obligation.

Feng Ruang remained impassive, watching without even moving. He didn't make a sound, nor did he make a gesture. He just waited until Feng Hao had moved far enough away, disappearing into the thick fog of the courtyard. Then, he slowly turned around, his presence becoming even more oppressive. When he spoke, his voice was like poison, creeping into Bai Zhen's mind.

"Feng Hao…"

Feng Ruang paused, his gaze piercing, without warmth.

"Feng Hao's parents were the Lord and Lady of Mudan City."

He let the words hang in the air, like a specter from the past.

Bai Zhen frowned, feeling an uneasiness deep in his soul. Something in the Great Elder's words seemed out of place, as if there was a weight hidden between the lines.

Feng Ruang didn't seem to notice Bai Zhen's doubt. He continued, his voice cold and full of disdain.

"Four years ago, do you know what happened to Mudan City?"

His question hung in the air, unhurried, as if he was giving the young man time to assimilate the dark meaning behind it.

Bai Zhen's silence was enough for the answer. Feng Ruang then smiled, but it wasn't a warm smile.

"Exactly."

He said, with venomous softness.

"Now, tell me… who here truly understands what it's like to lose everything?"