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Evening walks used to be a part of Yanqing's routine that he always looked forward to.
Besides being an opportunity to breathe fresh air after a day of training, completing missions, or merely being free from the confinement of the Seat of Divine Foresight, Yanqing also had the chance to meet his friends.
Well, friends might not be the right word, considering the people he usually greeted were Kongqing, Awei, other people at the Artisanship Commission, Bailu, Madam Yukong, and others who usually visited or were visited at the Seat of Divine Foresight. Outside of the General’s acquaintances, Yanqing realized he had few friends.
Moreover, in recent years, Yanqing unconsciously did this to introduce himself to the surrounding community. Not introduced, more accurately, as only a handful of people in Luofu did not know the highly talented student of the General. Just to show himself, that the young man named Yanqing, the disciple of Jing Yuan who was always talked about, was him. Yanqing did not want to repeat the incident where people judged him by his appearance, considering him a lost child when they saw him wandering around the Cloud Knight training ground.
During these evening walks, he often heard things he had never heard before. Has the General gone mad? They said. Gossiping about their relatives who had served Jing Yuan faithfully for over a hundred years, with lots of war experience here and there, yet their chance to become a lieutenant was taken away just like that by a baby born yesterday.
Hearing this, his blood boiled. Yanqing was not a child born yesterday. His swordsmanship skills were far above theirs, which made Jing Yuan choose him over the other Cloud Knights. If they were jealous of him, all they needed to do was train harder, maybe as hard as he did. Tsk, he thought. Yanqing always considered all those jeers as merely a sign of their envy towards him.
Other stories he heard were less interesting, often making his mouth yawn, eyes sleepy, and ears buzzing. The glory of Jing Yuan fighting this, fighting that, exterminating this, defeating that, comparing him to the generals of other Xianzhou ships—as if his master only had strengths without weaknesses.
Yanqing hoped that someone would finally talk about what his teacher was like before becoming a general. How did he become such a great person as he is now, what he went through, what things he could emulate if he wanted to be like him in the future. But it seemed, his teacher had lived longer than anyone in Luofu.
Until he met Jingliu.
Since he foolishly thought the woman was a weak blind woman and saved her before the Abundance monster attacked, people started talking about the Sword Champion of the past, a position Yanqing longed for that had been vacant for hundreds of years, but always made his master change the subject whenever he brought it up in their conversations.
"You have to work hard to earn that title," his general had said then. "You cannot be the Sword Champion just because you are good at sword fighting. Talent is not enough." As if his hard work all this time was not enough.
That did not discourage him. On the contrary, it made Yanqing even more eager to prove himself to the general that he was capable. And for a while, Jing Yuan also allowed it if Yanqing asked for more time to train, more missions, stronger techniques, and a new sword—the last thing being irrelevant, he knew, but what is a Sword Champion without a sword, right?
Until one day, when Yanqing was returning from the Alchemy Commission after Luofu had been attacked by Phantylia, the Lord Ravager, an elder who didn’t fully know what had happened assumed that their general, who was actually recovering after the battle, had begun showing signs of mara.
"His life won't be long, you'll see,"
The young man beside the elder nodded, his eyebrows furrowed. "What I heard is that those foreigners had to support his body when they returned from Scalegorge Waterscape."
The elder sighed, shaking his head slowly as if pitying the general. "Oh, Lan, maybe that’s why he’s training that young man harder… before it’s too late, and he goes mad and kills everyone like his teacher did."
Yanqing's steps halted upon hearing that.
Rumors that mara afflicted Jing Yuan? That had become almost everyday conversation. As the longest-serving general in Luofu, people had begun to wonder if Jing Yuan was starting to show signs of mara, watching his every move, even those who disliked him protesting for the old man to be replaced immediately. But only one thing caught Yanqing’s attention.
Training that young man harder? He was sure the ‘young man’ they were referring to was himself, considering Jing Yuan had no other disciples besides him. But killing everyone like his teacher did? What did that mean?
Yanqing, standing still in the middle of the road while staring at the young man and the elder talking in front of him, made them turn around, realizing his presence. Then, with a surprised look, the young man patted his companion's shoulder.
"See? You’re scaring the kid with all this mara talk!" The young man then smiled at Yanqing, innocently, as if talking to a child his age. "Don’t listen to him, young man. For you, mara is still very far away, don’t worry," he chuckled awkwardly.
Yanqing clenched his fists, then walked away without saying a word.
A few days later, it was time for Jing Yuan to wake up earlier than usual. Well, 6 AM was already late for him, but seeing his teacher, who usually woke up at 8, awake two hours earlier to train him was something to be appreciated.
While waiting for the general to arrive, Yanqing usually warmed up. Running, stretching, polishing his swords, recalling the lessons from the previous day, and the mistakes he should not repeat. Today, for some reason, Yanqing found himself staring blankly while sitting at the edge of the garden where they usually played chess.
His mind drifted far, since he heard the conversation between the two men a few days ago. Trivial things like gossip usually didn't affect him, given that he was raised by the person who was the center of conversation in Luofu. Strangely, this time, he was like a possessed person who kept digging for information about Jing Yuan and the person they referred to as his teacher.
Yanqing embarrassingly admitted that his knowledge about his master, whom he thought he knew best, was only one in a thousand. Jing Yuan had lived much longer than anyone he knew. Maybe, to him, that man was everything. Throughout his life, his master was always there. But that clearly didn’t apply the other way around. For Jing Yuan, Yanqing was just one of many people who came and went.
The only sign of Jing Yuan's arrival, which brought Yanqing out of his reverie, was the sound of his footsteps echoing along the wooden floor towards the back garden. He sighed, reached for the wooden sword they usually used for sparring, and stood up from his position, greeting his General by standing in the middle of the training field.
“Did you stay up late again?” Jing Yuan descended the stairs, heading to the field. He took a wooden sword, tossing and twirling it in his hand as if it were a routine activity. “Your face looks tired.”
Yanqing averted his gaze, breaking eye contact. “No, General.”
Jing Yuan hummed, looking at him with his usual knowing gaze—which always made Yanqing want to spill everything that was bothering him—but this time, Yanqing chose to ignore it. He gripped his wooden sword with both hands, positioning his feet in an open stance, waiting for his teacher to do the same before charging at him aggressively.
Training with Jing Yuan usually felt like a play. A dance he performed every day with the same partner. Yanqing didn’t say it was easy—not at all. Each time they fought, Jing Yuan seemed to have a new technique, a new trick, which always frustrated him but at the same time gave him new knowledge. However, this time, it felt like dancing in the high-heeled shoes Madam Yukong often wore.
Jing Yuan made a simple move, stabbing from the side with a straight thrust, the tip of his wooden sword aimed at Yanqing’s ribs. Yanqing's eyes were locked on his master's, his grip firm on the wooden hilt, knuckles white with exertion. As his master launched a swift downward strike, he raised his sword just in time to block it. The impact reverberated through his arms, but he held firm, pushing back with a grunt of effort.
“One strike and you’re already grunting?” His master chuckled softly.
Their dance continued for almost an hour, a series of rapid thrusts, parries, and feints, each movement a blend of speed and control. Yanqing's footwork was agile, as always, his body turning and twisting to evade and counterattack. Yet, despite his obvious talent, there was an underlying tension in his movements today. His usually sharp reflexes seemed a fraction slower, his focus not entirely on the duel.
Jing Yuan noticed this distraction, his keen eyes catching the fleeting moments of hesitation. Exploiting this, he launched a flurry of attacks, driving the apprentice back. Yanqing tried to regain his composure, countering with a high swing aimed at his master's shoulder. The General deflected it with ease, their swords clashing with a resounding crack.
Sensing an opportunity, Jing Yuan stepped in with a low sweep, forcing the boy to jump back. Yanqing's balance wavered, and he struggled to recover. His master followed with a swift lunge, his sword aimed at his midsection. In a desperate move, he swung his sword horizontally, intending to knock his master's attack off course.
But his timing was off. His master's sword slipped past his guard, tapping him lightly on the ribs—a signal of a successful strike. Startled and off-balance, Yanqing's grip faltered. His wooden sword slipped from his hands, tumbling to the ground with a dull thud. He stood there, panting, sweat dripping down his face, the weight of his distraction heavy in the silence that followed.
“You seem distracted today.” Jing Yuan’s brow furrowed, his body moving to circle Yanqing, who still hadn’t moved from his spot.
“I’m not.”
“You are.” His general said flatly. “And I’m not going to ask why, because your enemy won’t care if your mind is distracted or not.”
Seeing him still silent, Jing Yuan stepped forward and picked up the wooden sword still lying on the ground. Yanqing waited for his master to confront him, to ask what was bothering him, whether he was alright or not. But all his teacher did was stand before him, with an outstretched hand.
“When you fight, your mind’s focus should only be on the battle.” He said, waiting for Yanqing to take the wooden sword from his outstretched hand. “Either that, or be prepared to die.”
Yanqing sighed slowly. His eyes met his master’s for a few seconds before he moved to take the wooden sword from his hand. Then, while hiding his reluctance, he stood and assumed his stance.
“Come on, you have a long way to go.” Jing Yuan twirled the wooden sword casually in one hand. His body was already in a stance, as if considering this fight seriously and not just practice. “You mustn’t stop until you defeat me.”
Usually, in normal conditions, when Jing Yuan said something like that, Yanqing would just snort, saying how annoying his teacher was. He was the greatest person, a master swordsman full of techniques, the best strategist he knew. Yanqing knew it was difficult to beat him—difficult, but Yanqing never said impossible.
This time, however, those words made his hand holding the sword hilt lower, with a vacant look and thoughts drifting far away.
“Do I have to?” Yanqing murmured quietly.
Jing Yuan furrowed his brows. “What’s that?”
“Do I have to?” He repeated, this time more clearly, while looking his master straight in the eye. “Beat you. Do I have to beat you?”
Jing Yuan lowered his hand holding the sword, as if surprised by what he said. Throughout their history of training together, Yanqing's goal was always to be as great as him, even greater.
“Well, it has always been your goal, hasn’t it?”
Hearing that, his eyes reddened, and he was sure they had started to water.
There was a time when he agreed with that statement. When his goal, his dream, was to be as great as his master. To be a skilled swordsman, to earn the title of Sword Champion, to successfully defeat his master in their sparring. To make his master proud, that he raised and trained a talented student like him.
“Has it?” His voice trembled, and Yanqing hated hearing it. It felt like going back to years ago when he held back tears after losing a fight to an older Cloud Knight, feeling he had disappointed the General. “Or has it been your goal all along?”
Seeing his master’s body freeze, stunned by his words, Yanqing immediately turned around. He threw his wooden sword from his hand, letting it clatter to the ground. Then he ran, as fast as he could so that when his tears fell, he would no longer be in the same place as the General.
There were times, during his teenage years, when Yanqing imagined what his biological parents looked like. As a human, he must have been born, right? He must have had a father and a mother.
Yanqing often imagined that his father had amber-colored eyes like his, or that his mother was a beautiful woman with blonde hair like his. Perhaps, his father was a swordsmith, which would explain his obsession with swords—in both aesthetics and function. Or maybe, his father was a Cloud Knight. If not in Luofu, perhaps from another Xianzhou ship.
In the past, every time he saw children his age being taken to normal school by their parents, Yanqing felt envious. Whenever he saw them playing ball, flying kites, dreaming of becoming explorers, Yanqing could only listen to them and nod, feeling that his future was already determined.
No, Jing Yuan never controlled him. All this time, what the man did was guide Yanqing to achieve the best according to his own will. It was he who decided to pursue swordsmanship, become a Cloud Knight, and—after several attempts to persuade his General—asked him to take him as his disciple.
General, Master, and Teacher were the words that came out every time he called the man. Perhaps, in his mind, Jing Yuan was the general of Luofu, the leader of the Cloud Knights, and his teacher. But, in his heart, Yanqing knew he was much more than that.
Even though he wasn't his parent, Yanqing had no one else he could call a parent besides Jing Yuan. He knew it would sound strange. He was also aware of the odd looks people gave his General whenever they saw him carrying the young Yanqing while leading Cloud Knight meetings or gatherings of all the Xianzhou Arbiter Generals. He also noticed the pitying looks from people, as if saying, 'Oh, how unfortunate for that abandoned child, that the General had to take him in out of pity'.
Various possible reasons crossed his mind as to why the General would want to take him in and raise him like a parent, even though they had no ties or relationship. However, none of his thoughts made any sense.
Until now.
When Yanqing heard the talk among the community that Jing Yuan was not raising him just to be his disciple but as his heir, his chest swelled with pride. Not only did the General consider him worthy as a disciple, but he also deemed him competent as a successor.
General Yanqing of the Xianzhou Luofu. Not bad, right?
But after talking with Jingliu, reading history books here and there, and delving into classic tales he previously thought were mere myths, Yanqing knew Jing Yuan was raising him to be more than those things.
He was raising him to be his own executioner.
That is why every time they fought, Jing Yuan's focus was on making him stronger, smarter, and superior to him, both in tactics and strength. Even though others praised him, and considered him a genius and talented, for his teacher, that wasn't enough. Because simply being a 'genius' wouldn't make him defeat Jing Yuan.
Yanqing took a deep breath after sitting in silence for a while. He gazed at the Ambrosial Arbor in the distance, its leaves seemingly burning like blue fire in the distance. In the dark sky, he now realized how many stars adorned it. All this time, busy polishing his sword, carrying out missions, or just training at night, Yanqing had never noticed that. The stars never looked perfect from the General's residence where he lived.
“A strale for your thoughts?”
Yanqing turned his face away and groaned, cursing his General for having the time to bother him even here amidst his busy schedule at the Seat of Divine Foresight. Usually, when he was upset about something, Jing Yuan would leave him alone for a while until he returned home before trying to probe into his troubles. But this time, it seemed that this matter was troubling his teacher too.
Jing Yuan walked closer and sat beside him. Yanqing let his legs dangle at the edge of the pavilion, lying down and facing sideways, unwilling to look his teacher in the eye and let his expression be read. He hated it when his master did that.
"It’s been a while since you were mad at me," His tone didn't sound like he was teasing, even though Yanqing knew Jing Yuan probably found this situation amusing. "I thought we don’t do this anymore since you’ve grown up."
Yanqing remained silent, not in the mood to respond to his master's idle chatter. He wasn’t mad at him—well, not exactly. Yanqing himself didn’t know who he was angry at. At himself? Maybe. At the situation? Definitely.
Jing Yuan let him remain silent, not forcing him to answer or change his sitting position like a lieutenant disrespecting his General. He just sat quietly beside him, staring at the Ambrosial Arbor in the distance. It was only after a while that Yanqing finally decided to ask.
"Did she kill a lot of people?" he asked, still lying on the pavilion and turning his back to Jing Yuan. "No, that’s not quite right. Did she kill a lot of Cloud Knights?"
Jing Yuan was silent, now avoiding eye contact with Yanqing.
It was always like this. Whenever Yanqing asked about his past, his General would only give ambiguous answers that Yanqing could read in articles or history books. It was as if he had a special template for responses, not allowing anyone to know more than that. Including Yanqing.
"So that’s what’s on your mind,"
See? An unhelpful answer.
"Why?" He cornered him, and it was rude, Yanqing knew. But this time, he needed an answer.
"You know what mara do to our minds, Yanqing. They enter your brain, take over your thoughts, and eventually your body."
"Is that the reason that justifies her actions?"
"No." Hearing his voice, Yanqing was stunned and immediately turned to look at his master. For the first time, there was emotion in Jing Yuan’s answer. "I do not justify her actions, mara-struck or not."
"Is that why you kill her?"
"You’ve seen her alive,"
"But you tried to kill her."
Yanqing straightened his body. Now both of them sat facing each other, with expressions almost like reflections of one another. Furrowed brows, as if one party wanted the conversation to end quickly, while the other wanted to delve deeper.
Jing Yuan took a slow breath, perhaps realizing his emotions were stirred by the question. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if wrestling with himself over the answer he would give.
"She escaped from the Shackling Prison, killing all the Cloud Knights who tried to catch her. Jingliu, she—" His words halted, for a moment after Jing Yuan, in the few years Yanqing had known him, uttered her name personally for the first time. "With the abilities she possessed, with her mind not under control, she was too dangerous to be kept alive."
A legend, a former Sword Champion, a member of the High Cloud Quintet, and a teacher of one of the Arbiter Generals. Yanqing knew that a sane Jingliu might be their ally, part of their own. But a mad Jingliu? She probably would attack anyone, even her closest friends.
"I am the General. I cannot trade the life of one person who means so much to me for the hundreds of lives she has taken. I am the General, first and foremost. I do not have much time to be Jing Yuan."
"And that’s what you expect from me?" His voice trembled, and Yanqing hated it. "Do you hate me that much?"
"Yanqing…"
"You just want me to be your lieutenant, to be a Cloud Knight who can replace you someday, who can—"
His voice choked.
Stop, his brain screamed. Don’t say it.
Not in his right mind would Yanqing want to say it. Not even in anger, not even in the emotional state he was in now. No way. It was something he would never do in his lifetime.
"Is that why you took me as your disciple?" Tears escaped from his eyelids, betraying Yanqing's efforts to hold them back. "Is that why you were so determined to train me until I could defeat you?"
Jing Yuan didn’t say anything. In front of him, the man just looked at him in silence. Yanqing initially thought his General was being gentle, as usual, letting his emotions explode before calming him down. But he finally realized that he was silent because his words were true.
"Is it really like that?"
Yanqing was right. For the first time in thousands of arguments with the General, he was right when he hoped that this time, as usual, he was wrong.
"Tell me I’m wrong." He demanded, pushing Jing Yuan to react. "General, tell me I’m wrong!"
"You’re wrong."
After a long time, his teacher finally answered. Still with his expressionless face that didn’t allow Yanqing to read him, yet the simple words that came out of his mouth unconsciously made him feel as if he was melting, dissolving tons of problems he had frozen for so long.
"And you’re not saying that because that’s what I want to hear?"
Jing Yuan shook his head, his mouth forming a small smile, something he usually did—and something that made Yanqing relieved because as much as he hated the playful Jing Yuan, he hated the serious and quiet Jing Yuan more.
"I’m not,"
Yanqing sighed, still slightly trembling from the emotions that had surged moments ago. "Then why?"
"Why did I train you?" Jing Yuan looked far ahead. His eyebrows furrowed, as if struggling to think of a reason. "Because you asked me to?"
"General!"
"You did," Jing Yuan chuckled, and Yanqing’s face turned red. Half out of anger, and half out of embarrassment. He hated how his teacher really couldn’t be serious. "Also because you didn’t want to leave me… and I couldn’t find you a babysitter,"
Yanqing shut his mouth, not expecting that when he asked for a reason, Jing Yuan would pull the timeline back that far—from the first time they met, and his General brought him home. And—Jing Yuan blamed him? Well, what did he expect? Yanqing was just a baby. He couldn’t choose to be saved by a general, a farmer, or even a wizard!
"And I did not want you to become a knight." Yanqing froze. For the first time, those words came out of his teacher’s mouth. "I wanted you to go to school, graduate, and have a normal job in the Commission. Experience adolescence like your peers… meet someone and fall in love…" Jing Yuan paused, watching his reaction and chuckling again when he saw Yanqing looking down with blushing cheeks. "But you preferred to enter the Cloud Knight training grounds instead of going to school, and you liked swords more than books, so…" His general sighed deeply, trying to appear dramatic. "What can I do, then?"
Yanqing held his mouth, keeping the words that had been swirling in his mind for so long. Waiting to be voiced, but afraid to hear the answer. Afraid to know the real truth. But—ah! Damn it! He wouldn’t know if he didn’t speak now.
"Why not send me off for adoption?"
Yanqing could see Jing Yuan's eyes widen, slightly surprised by his question. And it wasn’t that he was rude, ungrateful, or wished he hadn’t been raised by the General—No! Hell, no! Never had such a thought crossed his mind. But, because of recent events, he needed to make sure why the General didn’t send him away.
"Because you cried every time Qingzu took you out of the Seat of Divine Foresight, or whenever you lost sight of me. You were too comfortable sitting on my lap every time I worked." Jing Yuan nudged his shoulder from the side playfully. "You didn’t want to leave me."
Yanqing just rolled his eyes, having heard the same reason a thousand times every time he asked. As if his general had a template answer for certain questions. Didn’t he already mention that he hated when he did that?
However, then, Jing Yuan sighed softly. Hearing his reaction, Yanqing turned to the side and found his general already looking at him. Now with a neutral gaze, still the same as usual, but with a warmth that radiated. Yanqing felt like he was burned.
"And, because I didn’t want to leave you too."
He said that, finally.
Teenagers like Yanqing would usually find it cheesy, but, strangely, it warmed his heart. It felt weird, as if he, who was used to the coldness of the ice, now had a campfire inside his body. Weird, but in a good way. It’s… comforting.
"I do not plan for you to be a knight, my student, my apprentice, or my lieutenant. And I certainly don’t care if you are not any of those. You are the same boy I brought from the battlefield, back to Luofu. The one I named Yanqing."
Oh.
Oh, so that’s where the name Yanqing came from. He who was abandoned, neglected on the battlefield. He who was homeless, nameless, and parentless, met someone who gave him both a home and name, and even became his parent.
"You are more than just my student, Yanqing. Or my lieutenant. And just because I and my teacher experienced it, doesn’t mean I will let something like that happen to you." Jing Yuan touched his shoulder, squeezing it gently. It felt like he was not only reassuring Yanqing but also himself. "We’ll break the loop, you and I. I promise you that."
Another teardrop escaped his eye, but this time, Yanqing let it fall. Jing Yuan could see it, as anyone with eyes could see it. He might look childish, unbecoming of a lieutenant of the Cloud Knights of Luofu, but he didn't care.
"When it is time… when it’s my time, I won’t make you—"
"No!"
Yanqing lunged forward, nearly knocking Jing Yuan over. How he wished this was a sparring session where he could surprise his general—but he knew in a fight, Jing Yuan would never make his body an easy target like this. But this is not a spar, this is a hug. A hug he didn't know he had missed after years of pretending to be an adult.
"Don’t say that!" His hands wrapped around Jing Yuan's shoulders, unconsciously squeezing his large body. His face was buried in the General's long, white-blonde hair cascading over his shoulders. "Do not ever, ever say that!"
Jing Yuan chuckled—while Yanqing was crying like this? How could he!—the vibrations from his chest resonated through Yanqing's small body, clinging tightly as if not wanting to let go. If he wanted to silence him, perhaps a more effective way would be to cover his mouth, not hug him, but—oh well. This time, Yanqing let his body act on his heart's impulses, not his mind's.
"You know it will happen to all of us someday, both you and I included."
"No! No!" Yanqing shook his head vehemently. "Even Mara would not take you away. I would stand against it! Mara would have to fight me!"
"Oh, no," Jing Yuan chuckled again, this time with a teasing tone. "Mara certainly wouldn't stand a chance against the Sword Champion." Then, as Yanqing groaned at his taunt and buried his head in Jing Yuan's shoulder, his master stroked his tied golden hair. "It would have to fight the both of us," he continued, before hugging Yanqing tightly in return. "I would also stand against it if Mara were to take you too."
Yanqing knew those words were just empty comfort, just like the words he had said to his master. Living as a Xianzhou resident, living as a species with a long life, meant living with the curse of Mara. But Yanqing was not one to give up so easily.
Jingliu could regain her sanity—somehow, no matter the cost. The same went for that Stellaron Hunter who used to be his master's friend. The world out there is vast, still unexplored, and still misunderstood by humans. Surely there was a way to break this curse somewhere out there. No matter what, Yanqing would save them both from Mara's curse.
It was an empty hope, he knew. But Yanqing was a dreamer.