[ Year 824 AD | Weiyou Tribe, Northern Border of Arghon ]
"Wei Cheng!"
A few younger tribe children, around fourteen years old, came running toward her, their voices echoing across the camp.
"Tsk," Cheng muttered under her breath, glancing down at herself.
Her thorn-brown robe and unevenly cut trousers were caked in dust. Her dark hair was hastily yanked back into a messy half-bun, secured by a faded tribal headband across her forehead. Between the dirt and the minor scratches lining her face from trekking through the underbrush, she looked like a wild creature fresh from the mountains.
On her trek back from the jagged mountain range, she had practiced her aim, using the wilderness as her playground. Hunting was more than a hobby; it was the lifeblood that kept her sharp, and the forest had practically raised her.
As the kids caught up, she offered them a rare, slight smile, reaching into her satchel to hand them a few wild fruits she had gathered along the way. While they eagerly took the treats, Cheng adjusted the thick strip of cloth tied tightly around her right wrist. She had severely strained it during excessive training a few months prior. In the armory, her wrist was constantly exposed to heavy tension and frequent strains, but she was entirely used to the dull ache by now.
Passing the village commons, she offered a respectful nod to the village elders who were busy weaving. One of them called out, asking her to help with the looms next time. Cheng politely waved her off. Thread and seams were definitely not her calling.
As she approached the center of the camp, she spotted her best friend resting against the thick trunk of an ancient oak tree. Cheng shook her head with a sigh.
"Mu Lin!"
Hearing her voice, Lin slid down the makeshift ladder built into the tree trunk and dropped to the ground. "Master Cui has been looking for you," Lin warned.
Cheng merely shrugged.
Mu Lin had been her closest confidante since the day Cheng first arrived at the tribal camp. Unlike Cheng, Lin had been a member of the tribe since birth, having been orphaned and taken in by Master Cui, the tribal leader. Cheng, on the other hand, had arrived with no memory of her name or her origins. The moniker 'Cheng' was a title she earned only after surviving her first year of brutal training and mastering every class Master Cui threw at her.
In their dialect, Wei Cheng was a warrior's name. The 'Wei' was chosen to honor the Weiyou tribe—a permanent marker of the people who gave her a home.
Cheng's life was a constant balance of contradictions. On one hand, she struggled through relentless martial arts and sword fighting; on the other, she devoured every book she could find, even writing her own manuscripts and historical stories. The tribe loved reading her work during their rare moments of rest, making her Weiyou's most celebrated storyteller.
Geographically, the Weiyou Tribe occupied the perilous middle ground between the Ruyu and Arghon Empires, rendering them completely independent of both superpowers. Twelve years ago, the vital trading route had been abruptly closed due to a bitter political fallout. Weiyou severed all ties with the Arghon Empire. Since then, the tribe had received zero imperial support, surviving strictly on what they could hunt, forage, and plant. Because their territory was blessed with lush forests, freshwater streams, and defensive mountain ranges, they remained safe from outside threats. Aside from the occasional wild beast, their lives were peaceful.
At seventeen, Cheng had mastered every lesson the tribe had to offer. She now served as an instructor alongside Lin and their friend, Laohu. But her true legendary status rested on one fact: she had been named the undisputed best archer of the tribe at the tender age of nine.
[ Weicheng's POV ]
Mu Lin's voice always carried the nagging, fretful tone of a worried mother. It was endearing, but right now, it was mostly annoying.
"I told you not to wander past the boundary," Lin lectured, falling into step beside me as we walked past the newly enrolled kids practicing their basic stances.
She knew me too well. She knew I hadn't just been hunting in the forest; I had sneaked across the border into North Arghon to gather information. For years, I had been searching for clues about why our tribe had been so suddenly abandoned by the empire, but the truth remained buried.
"I know, I know," I muttered, trying to deflect.
To distract her, I pulled a fresh stack of parchment from my robe and handed it to her—my latest manuscript detailing the history of the Northern Yun Kingdom. As Lin skimmed the pages, she let out a sharp gasp.
I shrugged, explaining what I had uncovered. "According to the notices and rumors I overheard in the Northern Kingdom's markets, the King of the North—at the explicit request of the Queen—was the one who petitioned the Emperor to seal the trading route and cut off all aid to the Weiyou tribe."
"How despicable," Lin hissed, her eyes wide.
I nodded grimly. "The Yun Clan is arguably the most powerful bloodline in Arghon. The two daughters of the previous King hold the highest seats of power on the continent: the eldest, Yun Ni Xiua, rules the North as Queen, and her sister, Yun Li Xian, sits on the imperial throne as Empress."
"Did the previous King save the world in a past life?" Lin marveled, shaking her head. "To have daughters like that... no wonder they call the Yun sisters 'the women mandated by heaven.'"
"Hey!"
A familiar voice cut through our conversation. We both looked up to see Lao Hu jogging toward us. Our trio was finally complete.
Hu had been with the tribe for about four years. He had fled North Arghon to escape abusive parents who were on the verge of selling him to traveling merchants. Because Lin's father had been the one to rescue him from the border, Hu had sworn an oath to protect Lin, and the two had practically become adopted siblings.
Hu was undeniably famous around the camp. Half the girls our age constantly brought him gifts because of his striking looks.
"Where have you been, Hu?" I asked as he reached our bench.
A few younger kids immediately gathered around him, giggling. I just rolled my eyes.
"Look at you, quite the popular one," Lin teased with a smile.
"Hey, my charisma is a natural gift," Hu giggled, running a hand through his hair.
Somehow, the guy always managed to look neat and put-together, even though we all wore the same rugged tribal garb day in and day out. Hu was one of Master Cui's top pupils, possessing the lethal agility of a tiger and the innocent face of a house cat. It was why Master Cui had nicknamed him 'Hu'—short for Laohu, meaning Tiger. Master Cui was obsessed with nicknames, which worked out perfectly for me, considering I didn't have a real name to begin with. Lin was always 'Linlin' because she had been the cutest kid in the camp, even when she was running around wielding twin daggers.
"Hu," I called out as we began walking back toward the communal cottages.
He caught up easily, throwing his long arms over both my and Linlin's shoulders. We walked in unison, heading to the kitchens to help the elders prepare the evening meal.
While distributing bowls of hot soup, I kept an eye on Lin as she worked the opposite side of the pavilion. Seizing a moment when she was distracted, I slipped away to confront Hu near the large iron cauldrons.
"Where were you really today, Hu?" I asked quietly, stirring a fresh pot of broth.
"Just wandering the forest," he replied smoothly, not missing a beat.
I stared at him. I had seen him earlier today at the Northern market. He had been wearing a decent disguise—the kind of fine clothing and structured headgear a nobleman would wear just to bypass the guards at the Northern Gates. I used that exact trick all the time to sneak past the imperial watch. If I could manage it, a skilled scout like Hu certainly could too.
If he wasn't going to confess, I wasn't going to waste my breath pushing him. I turned on my heel to walk away, taking three steps before his voice stopped me cold.
"Why were you at the market, Cheng?"
I froze. I had been so careful to ensure he hadn't seen me. I never expected him to throw the question right back, let alone admit that he had been sneaking around the empire too.
The wooden ladle nearly slipped from my hand as I turned around to face him. Hu's usual playful, cat-like expression was entirely gone. His eyes were deadly serious. He looked at me with an intensity that told me he already knew my secrets. We had spent too many years training side-by-side; trying to lie to him now would be utterly useless.
Seeing the defeat on my face, Hu gave a slow, knowing nod. "Alright. Did you find any answers?"
I let out a long sigh, dropping onto a nearby wooden stool and shaking my head.
"What exactly are you looking for, Cheng?" he asked softly.
"Even I don't completely know," I admitted, staring at my wrapped wrist. "I was brought here as a child. My very first memory is just Master Cui finding me in the snow."
Hu stared at me for a long moment, then reached deep into the folds of his inner robe. "Here."
He pulled out a heavy, leather-bound volume and pressed it into my hands. I looked down at the faded gold lettering on the cover.
"That is a detailed, restricted chronicle of the Arghon Empire over the last twenty years," Hu said quietly. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone as he went to help the elders outside.
My fingers traced the worn cover of the book. For twelve years, I had been searching for the missing fragments of my identity, deeply aware that there was far more to the Weiyou tribe's exile than met the eye.
The heavy aroma of the soup filled the kitchen, but my appetite was entirely gone. Clutching the book tightly against my chest, I slipped out the back door and hurried toward my tent.
I was going to spend the entire night reading.