They stood frozen at the news—a stunned, unmoving knot of Lin family members—while the Ye brothers could barely contain the surge of feeling inside them. Autumn Ye's mind went white; all he could utter was, "This can't be happening."
Let's go!" Qingfeng Ye snapped back to himself first. He grabbed Autumn's hand and bolted. Only then did Autumn catch up; the two brothers vaulted onto a horse and raced toward home, hearts pounding so fiercely they wished the mounts had wings.
They thundered down the main street and were almost at the Ye residence when ranks of soldiers had already surrounded the compound. Seeing the riders, the guards stepped forward to block them.
"Hold!" a sergeant barked, drawing his blade.
"I'm from the Ye family!" Autumn shouted, flinging himself off his horse. He landed, steady and furious, ready to charge the gate.
"Don't be reckless!" Qingfeng, though equally shaken, forced himself to be calm. He grabbed Autumn's arm and held him back.
Through the open gate, Autumn saw soldiers carrying the family's belongings out into the yard and piling them up. Rage swelled in him until his vision blurred; he fought the urge to rush in.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
A general walked slowly to the gate. His eyes flicked over the brothers and paused.
"Report, sergeant—who are they?" he asked.
"These two claim to be sons of Ye Yang and try to force entry into the Ye residence," the sergeant replied.
The general pointed. "I know you. You are Ye Yang's sons—eldest, Ye Qiutian; second, Ye Qingfeng."
"That's right!" Autumn's eyes went bloodshot. If not for Qingfeng's restraint, he would have lunged forward. "What have you done? What are you taking from our house?"
The general's expression tightened. "Ye Qiutian, your father, Ye Yang, was ordered to defend Beidou City. But he ignored the counsel of the army commander, and the city fell. The Yuanying barbarians sacked the place, pillaging, enslaving the people. Ye Yang abandoned his post and fled alone. The emperor was enraged and stripped your father of his office. However, given Ye Yang's prior merits and because the northern marshal captured and executed him, the emperor has spared the rest of the family from exile. Rather than execution or banishment, the Ye family will be reduced to commoners, and all property will be confiscated by the state. You should be grateful."
"No!" Autumn roared. "My father was honest and upright—he wouldn't abandon the people. This is a miscarriage of justice!"
"Silence!" the general snapped. "The emperor has already shown mercy. If the Ye family stirs further trouble, that mercy will be withdrawn."
"Big brother—" Qingfeng kept a hold on Autumn, pressing his clenched jaw into a tight line. He forced himself to bow outwardly. "General, may we retrieve some personal items? At least my mother's ancestral tablet—please. Let me take the tablet."
The general hesitated, then nodded slowly. He produced a roll of yellow silk and tossed it to Qingfeng. Qingfeng unfurled it: an official edict, stamped with the seal of the Grand Military Secretariat and Prince Huaiwu, ordering the confiscation of the Ye estate.
"You may not," the general said at first, authority in his voice—but when Qingfeng pleaded for the tablet, he relented. "Only you may enter. Retrieve the tablet and return immediately." He assigned two soldiers to escort Qingfeng inside.
Autumn stood outside the gate, fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. He was strong—trained in powerful arts—but confronted with armed soldiers and imperial orders, he could do nothing. He hammered his fist on the flagstones until cracks spidered across the courtyard. The sergeant's hand went to his sword out of instinct; even the general watched with a trace of pity.
The general stepped closer in a lower voice. "Qiutian, this is done. You cannot change it now. But the emperor spared you both, which means you have a chance. With your strength—I suppose you have reached the super-martial level—why not join the army? You could survive, win merit, restore your family's honor."
"My father did not betray his post," Autumn shot back.
"This is injustice."
The general only sighed, shook his head, and re-entered the house. Qingfeng, escorted by two soldiers, walked through the wrecked rooms where the family's life had been overturned. He kept his composure, stepping around strewn furniture and broken boxes, and finally stopped before the small altar in the inner chamber. He lifted his mother's tablet with both hands, careful, reverent.
"Mother," he whispered at the doorway, "we are leaving home. Be at ease. I will restore the Ye name, clear Father's name, and one day bring you home." His voice was steady, and a hard, quiet light came into his eyes—so determined it made bystanders look away.
When he emerged with the tablet, Autumn collapsed into tears. The soldiers ignored them and pushed the brothers aside for being disruptive. Autumn wanted to lash out, but Qingfeng restrained him.
"Big brother, empty bravado won't help," Qingfeng said. "We must keep our strength and find a way to clear Father's name."
"I understand," Autumn choked, wiping his face hard.
"What now?"
"First, to my private school," Qingfeng decided. "It's small, but it can be our shelter." Then he stepped forward and, with proper etiquette, called: "General, I'd like a word."
The soldiers reported the request, and the general reappeared.
"How did my father die? Where is his body?" Qingfeng asked. "A son must bury his father."
"That—" the general's shoulders slumped. "The front was a chaos; the Yuanying were brutal. In the fog of war, bodies were buried hastily. I am sorry to say they executed your father and his remains were buried with other soldiers'—a common grave on the front. If you can, go to the battlefield and burn offerings at the mass grave; it is the closest thing to a proper rite at this point."
Qingfeng's eyes filled, but he swallowed his grief. Autumn, on hearing it, broke into helpless sobs. The general's face grew sorrowful, and he left.
Qingfeng wiped his face slowly, gathered Autumn, and said, "We can't stay here crying. Come. We must go."
They mounted again and rode toward Qingfeng's small schoolhouse. On arrival, they found soldiers sealing the door with an official strip of paper. The brothers leapt down in alarm and ran forward.
"We must follow orders," the sergeant said, calm but firm. "All Ye family properties are being seized. This house falls under that."
"But this is my brother's private school!" Autumn protested. "He started it to teach poor children for free—he saved his own money to buy this place! You can't just shut it down."
People from the neighborhood gathered—their faces stung by injustice—and began to shout in the brothers' defense. "That school teaches our poorest children! Who will teach them now?" "You seal good people's doors while the corrupt roam free!"
"Silence!" the sergeant snapped, drawing his sword.
"Are you inciting rebellion? The emperor has spared the Ye brothers; if they whip up the people, it's treason—and that's a capital crime."
Qingfeng bowed to the crowd instead of answering the insult. "Thank you for your loyalty. The court's order is absolute—there is nothing we can do now. But I promise: if I have the chance, I will reopen this school. We will meet again."
He led Autumn away, feeling the weight of every looking eye. The crowd murmured and dispersed, bitter and helpless.
"They're cowards," Autumn fumed from the saddle, teeth bared.
Qingfeng did not shout in return. He clenched his fists so hard his nails bit into his palms and blood welled, but his voice stayed even. "We will restore the Ye name and clear Father's name. No matter how much it hurts, keep your face calm. Don't let anyone finish us off now. We live for the Ye family—especially for Father."
"I know!" Autumn nodded fiercely. "Qingfeng, you can't be impulsive anymore. You're different—you think faster than I do. If you cultivate your spirit, you'll surpass me. You must—"
"I know," Qingfeng interrupted, solemn. "I will train to be a proper cultivator."
"If we stand together, we will succeed," Autumn said, gripping his brother's hand.
As they rode, Qingfeng's mind wandered back to the earliest memory he could recall—himself in infancy, consciousness like fog. Then a light—warm and sharpening—had touched that fog, and an intelligence bloomed. Along with it came a power that filled his body.
He remembered a voice—soft and beautiful—speaking into his heart:
"You are the chosen seal-bearer against the demons. You will use your flesh to bind the devils so the world can live in peace. Use your power to prevent evil and let divine light shine."
Now, staring at the ruined gates of his home, Qingfeng answered that memory silently with a cold certainty.
"Saint Su," he thought—no one would name him aloud—"did sealing demons alone ever make the world righteous? Look at this: good men shamed and punished, cruelty rampant. That isn't the work of gods or devils—it's the work of human hearts."
He would not be another naive seal-bearer who spent his life stifling demons under the illusion that peace would follow. He would wield the demons' power where it was needed: to punish the corrupt and protect the innocent. He would use whatever he must to restore the Ye family's honor.
A chill crept up Autumn's spine as if a door in the world had opened.
Even the horses trembled beneath them.