The Caged Phoenix

The sun dipped behind the towering walls of the Luo Clan estate, casting long shadows over the training grounds. Inside, a boy no older than seven knelt in silence, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his skin. His name was Luo Zheng, the son of Luo Xiao, the once-proud patriarch of the clan.

But titles and prestige meant little now.

The once-mighty Luo family was in decline, their influence stripped away by enemies who had once bowed before them. Luo Zheng had been born into a golden cage—privileged yet powerless. As he knelt before his father's ancestral hall, the whispers of the clan elders echoed through the corridors.

That boy will never live up to his father's name."

"A fallen phoenix is lower than a chicken."

Luo Zheng bit his lip, suppressing the rage building within him. He had spent his childhood training, desperate to prove himself, but no matter how hard he fought, he was always reminded of his status—a young master with no real authority, a warrior without a sword.

Tonight, however, was different.

The full moon hung high in the sky as Luo Zheng's father, Luo Xiao, knelt beside him. The once-mighty clan leader was now a prisoner within his own home, watched by men who had once sworn loyalty to him. Yet despite his tattered robes and weary face, Luo Xiao's gaze remained sharp, unwavering.

Zheng'er," he said softly, his voice steady despite their circumstances. "Do you know why the phoenix burns?"

Luo Zheng turned to his father, confused by the sudden question. He had heard the tale before—how the phoenix was consumed by flames only to rise anew—but he did not understand its meaning.

"It burns because it must. Because only through fire can it be reborn stronger than before." Luo Xiao placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Our family has fallen, but that is not the end. One day, you will rise again, Luo Zheng. But before that, you must endure the flames."

That night, Luo Zheng made a silent vow. He would not remain caged. He would not allow his enemies to dictate his fate.

And so, the fire within him was lit.

After some time,

The halls of the Luo Clan residence were quiet, but Luo Zheng could feel the weight of unseen eyes upon him. Guards patrolled the estate, ensuring that no one within the household could act against the new rulers of the clan.

Luo Zheng's small hands trembled as he clutched a wooden training sword, the only weapon he was allowed. He had often dreamed of holding a real blade, of striking down those who whispered behind his back. But dreams meant nothing without strength.

As he made his way toward the courtyard, a shadow flickered in the moonlight. Luo Zheng froze.

As he made his way toward the courtyard, a shadow flickered in the moonlight. Luo Zheng froze.

"Still sneaking out at night, Young Master?"

A rough, mocking voice echoed through the cold air. From behind one of the stone pillars, a boy a few years older than Luo Zheng stepped forward. His name was Luo Tian, a distant relative who now enjoyed the favor of the clan's new leaders.

"Even after your father was cast down, you still act like you matter," Luo Tian sneered, his arms crossed.

Luo Zheng remained silent, gripping his wooden sword tighter. He knew that if he spoke, it would only provoke Luo Tian further.

But Luo Tian had no intention of letting him walk away.

"Tell me, do you still believe in your father's nonsense? That you'll rise from the ashes like some kind of phoenix?" He laughed cruelly, stepping closer. "Face it, Luo Zheng. You're nothing now. And you'll never be anything more."

Luo Zheng's jaw clenched, but he didn't move. He had fought Luo Tian before—and lost every time. He was weaker, slower, and had no one to back him up.

But tonight, something felt different.

The words of his father echoed in his mind: "Only through fire can the phoenix be reborn."

Luo Zheng took a deep breath and lifted his wooden sword, pointing it at Luo Tian.

"I am not nothing." His voice was quiet but firm. "One day, I will stand above you."

Luo Tian's smirk faltered for a brief moment, but then he burst into laughter.

"Big words from a weakling," he said. "Fine. Show me what you've got."

Without warning, Luo Tian struck first, his fist slamming into Luo Zheng's chest. The impact sent him stumbling back, but he didn't fall. Gritting his teeth, Luo Zheng swung his wooden sword, aiming for Luo Tian's side

The older boy dodged with ease, grabbing Luo Zheng's wrist and twisting it painfully. The wooden sword fell from his grasp. Before he could react, Luo Tian's knee slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Luo Zheng gasped, collapsing onto the cold stone ground. His vision blurred as pain spread through his body.

Luo Tian crouched beside him, his voice low and mocking. "You will never rise, Luo Zheng. You're already burned to ashes."

With that, he stood up and walked away.

Luo Zheng lay there, staring up at the sky. The stars shimmered above him, distant and untouchable.

His chest ached. His pride was shattered. But as he slowly pushed himself up, something inside him refused to break.

"One day…" Luo Zheng whispered to himself.

Then, footsteps echoed through the courtyard. A frail but familiar voice called out, "Young Master, are you alright?"

Luo Zheng turned his head slightly and saw an elderly man approaching—the Luo family's last loyal servant, Uncle Fu. His aged face was filled with concern as he knelt beside Luo Zheng, gently lifting him up.

Why do you endure this pain?" Uncle Fu asked.

Luo Zheng clenched his fists. "Because I have to. Because I will not remain weak forever."

Uncle Fu sighed but nodded in approval. "Very well, Young Master. If you truly wish to rise, then let me teach you a way to endure the flames."

Luo Zheng's eyes widened.

Uncle Fu was not just a servant—he was once a hidden expert of the Luo Clan. If he was willing to teach Luo Zheng, then perhaps this was his first true step toward strength.

The fire inside him burned brighter.

And so, under the moonlit sky, Luo Zheng's journey truly began.