— The Emperor's Imperial Record, Entry No. 3 —
It was early morning, three days before the sect entrance test. I was up early because I was in a new place, and old habits were hard to kill.
I didn't know what to do. Huo Feng was not around, and Huo Qianlei was still sleeping, so I stepped out to the back of the hut, where they kept an old cow.
They called her Bai. She was still asleep in the morning darkness, and she looked far too old to do any actual farmwork.
Still, I got a bucket and set about milking her.
It took over an hour. Looking at her frail body, I wasn't expecting much from her. She really was too old and starved for this.
But I hadn't seen any food in the hut, at least not in plain sight, so I assumed they had yet to go buy any. I didn't think I could just sit around doing nothing.
When I had finally finished milking her, Huo Qianlei came out to the back. "Oh, Khan, you didn't have to; it's your first day here, you should be resting."
Technically, it was my second day, but I didn't feel like correcting him.
"No worries, I just wanted to do something to help."
He rushed over, "Ah, don't worry," he went to pick up the bucket, then noticed it was full, "You got this much? Bai must really like you."
He pulled the bucket from under her, careful not to spill anything. "Good work, lad. You can stay here and rest for the day, just come out to the fields before sundown, and help me bring some things from over there."
I followed him back inside for breakfast. When he was done, he took the girls out with him, and I was left alone. With nothing to do, I couldn't help but clean up the house and train.
It was the crude and inefficient techniques I had learned while still in my village, and even after hours of repeating them, I couldn't get one thought out of my mind. 'The other candidates must be training harder than I am.'
Of course they were. They'd been preparing their whole lives to get accepted into the sect. If I wanted to compete, I would have to find something. Quick.
###
Time passed, and before I knew it, night had fallen, and Huo Feng was back. He had a meal—The same one we had in the morning and went out back to train.
Perfect. Who better to learn from than someone like the other candidates? Someone who'd been here their whole life?
He was training with a spear and had taken off his shirt so it wouldn't get dirty. Every time he swung his spear, I could see his back muscles move like they were alive under his skin.
The man's skin was dancing, and the scars that he had on it were the most captivating.
I spoke out, "What happened to your skin?"
He stopped. "Go away."
I wanted to go away, I really did. Weeks on end of hunting in the forest had made minding my own business second nature.
Yet here I was, trying to pry a tale out of someone I had only just met. Was this loneliness? Boredom? Either way, I didn't like it.
"I just want to know. Is it from being a guard? I thought that was a good job."
In this world of cultivators, prying into another's affairs was a fine way to get yourself killed. But I was very unrelenting when I had to be, and soon, he gave up, sweat dripping down his nose.
"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"
"Yes." I wasn't sure how honest I sounded when I said that, but he didn't seem to care.
Putting the spear down, he met my gaze with a wistful look, the words spilling out as if he had been holding them in for years...
"It was four years ago. The grounds master for the Awoken Moon Sect came over to the city for an inspection. They let us peasants off that day in order not to offend the 'esteemed cultivator' with our presence."
His voice shook as he recounted the day's events. "We took it as a chance to spend the day together and visited the market as a family—my mother, father, and then us three siblings..."
*********
The Mudfoot district market hummed—the scent of bread and fruits mixed with the laughter of children sang in the air.
But joy never lasted long.
Huo Feng clung to his mother's warmth as she walked hand in hand with him, her laughter lighting up the faces of everyone they passed.
Amid the bustling market, Marianna's grace was captivating, turning heads as they passed.
From afar, as he passed through the shadows of a stall, accompanied by numerous people, an old man's gaze bored into the family unnoticed; it was sharp like the gaze of a lion staring at a gazelle.
His bald head gleamed, grey hair falling past a smirking beard and pockmarked skin. The street hawker standing beside him shied away, bowing his head to avoid inviting trouble.
The old man's sunken eyes, fixated on Marianna with a fierce hunger. There was a strange intensity underscoring his gaze, the way a passerby would look at an item for sale and suddenly realize he wanted it.
He moved like he was sick, slow, deliberate, like a warped craftsman, and his eyes fixed on her radiant beauty.
A cold weight settled in Huo Feng's chest, between his lungs and his throat, making his breath shallow.
The familiar buzzing of the market suddenly seemed distant.
His instincts screamed to freeze- to stop everything and run, but he fought back, refusing to obey the fear creeping up on him.
He looked around before finally finding the source: the old man's piercing stare.
Huo Feng reached for his father's hand, the warmth that shot through his palm a stark contrast to the cold dread creeping up the small of his neck.
He met eyes with his father in a short, shared moment, and Huo Qianlei turned to catch sight of the weird man, before landing back on his son—a silent understanding passed between them.
It was a moment that felt stretched, as if the world around them paused for just a heartbeat.
Huo Qianlei's voice, usually filled with strength, now echoed with fear. "Stay next to your siblings, Huo Feng." His gaze flickered to the threat.
Huo Feng heard his father's words, not as a command, but a desperate, urgent plea. He watched his father's hands, ones he remembered as steady, clenched tightly. The space between his brows pressed into folds, and he froze, not sure what to do.
Stepping forward, Huo Qianlei's thoughts were easy for everyone to read. Especially the old man.
Marriana, sensing the impending danger, sought refuge behind a market stall, away from her husband and son as Huo Qianlei shooed her away.
But the man was undeterred. In moments, he was upon her. With the boldness of someone who did not know what it was to be denied, he reached for Marianna's arm, his grip forceful and invasive.
Marianna's expression shifted from a mix of wariness and fear to shock and discomfort, and her frown was replaced by a look of distress, piercing Huo Feng's juvenile heart like a blade.
"Let go of her!" Huo Feng's voice echoed through the market, sharper than he expected, almost unrecognisable- an unexpected wellspring of courage surging within him.
The words felt foreign coming from his mouth, but they were the only ones that seemed to matter in that moment. His chest tightened with a mix of fear and anger.
Huo Qianlei advanced towards the man, fists clenched—instinct screaming. He was like a bird trying to fight off a snake at its nest.
The market froze in place, their eyes locked onto the unfolding drama. The sinister man's twisted grin grew ever more wicked as he tightened his grip on Marianna, savouring her distress.
Huo Qianlei surged forward, his fists clenched tight. His body moved before his mind could catch up, raw instinct propelling him toward the threat.
The old man struck Huo Qianlei fast, sending him tumbling into fruit stalls. The market fell silent, its previously lively hum replaced by the collective gasp of the peasants around.
Huo Qianlei struggled to get up.
It was undeniable now—this man was a cultivator, and his presence had shattered the peace of the vibrant market. A deeper silence descended upon the villagers as they dared not offend the powerful cultivator in their midst.
It was shattered by only one thing: the young girls. His sisters screamed in the arms of a family friend. He had taken them away while the cultivator was focused on Huo Qianlei and his wife.
"Shhhh, you'll make this worse." He tried to quiet them down, but they kicked and screamed, trying to get out of his hold.
Somewhere in the background, the men who had been initially following the cultivator surrounded Huo Qianlei, holding him down and beating him as the cultivator continued to hold on to his lady.
Huo Feng, his young heart beating with determination, seized a nearby basket, running towards the cultivator and swinging it at him with all the confidence of a child who did not know the boundaries of his own strength.
It did nothing, and he was smacked away.
Huo Feng's body ached, his vision blurring with rage as he looked on helplessly, a sinking feeling slowly settling in his gut—a cold realisation that he did not want to acknowledge.
His hero, his father, was now kneeling, bloodied, his back bent in a way Huo Feng had never seen before.
This wasn't a fight—Huo Feng looked at the glee on the cultivator's face— it was a game. A game played by people like that man. A game they were only authorised to play as spectators. The young child cried.
Huo Feng's heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He had always looked up to his father as unbreakable, but now... the truth bore down on him: against the might of cultivators, they were nothing.
From the north, an official, fat with the stolen taxes of his people and bribery, rushed to come to the scene.
'What was going on?' How could his esteemed guests be doling out punishment to peasants like this?
What would people say about him if word got around?
What about his reputation?
He stepped in front of the balding man, "Senior, you must not tire yourself like this. Look," he bent and patted some of the dust of the cultivator, "you are getting dirty." The smile on the official's face turned more and more servile.
"I'll let my people handle their punishments. Don't worry."
Huo Feng, naively unaware of his place, screamed, "They started it!"
The crowd turned ablaze with comments.
Whispers.
Someone in the back scoffed, "What will he do?"
Witnessing his son's defiance, Huo Qianlei could only plead, his tears and snot mingling with the dirt and blood that stained his face.
The cruel cultivator, in turn, savoured his suffering, reveling in the agonizing moment he had created.
Rage, however, transformed the official's face; it was like he was two different people. He could not afford to have his authority undermined like this, especially not in front of the cultivator. His power had to be absolute.
"How dare you?" He then turned towards his men, "Guards, take them to the whipping posts! 80 lashes for both." He turned around to look at the elderly man, who by now had stopped focusing on Huo Qianlei.
He pulled out a wooden box from the folds of his robe. "Senior Gao Lan, this box contains-"
"Imperial Dragon Fruit, I can smell it through the box. A wonderful gift."
The guards dragged Huo Qianlei and Huo Feng to the whipping post, with the official and Gao Lan following close behind. Marianna dragged along with them.
They were shackled to a beating post, a brutal and public form of punishment, their backs turned to one another on a raised circular platform. The whole community would be made to watch, an unwilling audience to their pain.
Huo Feng's sisters, trembling and crying, were led away by their neighbour from earlier, who sought to shield them from the harrowing spectacle.
Huo Qianlei pleaded for mercy, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
Lashes on lashes rained down upon Huo Qianlei, while his son could only bear witness, shackled and bound.
They hit him with a bull whip. Like they were animals
Huo Feng clenched his jaw as he fought back his tears, every lash on his father's back an agony of its own. His father's teachings about fairness and kindness echoed in his mind, but nothing could quell the storm of helplessness and rage that threatened to consume him.
Gao Lan's lips curled into a thinner, more cruel smile. "For every ten lashes your father takes, you'll be spared one," he drawled, his tone dripping with bliss.
The words hung in the air, heavy with the meaning that came with it.
Huo Feng's stomach churned as the first lash struck, his father's cry sounding through the crowd like the pained bleats of a sheep. Each strike echoed in Huo Feng's ears, a reminder of his own powerlessness.
At the end of the day, Huo Feng endured sixty lashes, but his father, exhausted and broken, who had saved his son 20 lashes, collapsed.
No one dared to do a thing; the whole market stood silent. Stuck from fear and instincts of self-preservation till the cultivator and the official left, satisfied.
Their cruel laughter lingered like dark clouds while they carried Huo Feng's mother in tow.
Only then did the people dare to move, rushing towards the father-son duo with hushed whispers of encouragement and sympathy.
"Quick, make way, the healer is here!"
The village healer, Yao Po, came quickly, doing her best to care for Huo Qianlei's injuries with gentle hands, but the damage had been done.
As the days passed, it became evident that Huo Qianlei's slightly hunched back was going to be permanent and would serve as a lasting reminder of their ordeal.
"That's the story," Huo Feng concluded with a heavy heart, the memories of that day forever etched in his mind.
I shivered. The cold was starting to get to me. I knew that cultivators were influential, but to that extent?
Whatever had pushed me to ask my initial question now pushed me again, "Is that why you train so hard?"
"Tch. You promised to leave."
I gave an apology, sincere enough to make a judge believe I was a liar. My mind could only focus on one thing.
"Can I train with you?"
"No."
I took up a wooden branch anyway. Angling it the way Huo Feng did his spear.
"You don't want to hear my story?" I asked.
Huo Feng paused, his eyes unfocused for a moment, then, for just a second, he let the stoic mask slip from his face, and reluctantly let out a breath, "Let me guess… some sort of tragedy and now you're here for vengeance or something."
"Hmph. No." He didn't have to say it. Tragedy was common.
I grudgingly conceded, "Fine, I'll leave you alone. Let me know when it's time for me to wake up. I don't want to oversleep when I should be helping my benefactors."
Huo Feng nodded and returned to his spear training.
The next morning, Huo Feng stirred from restless sleep and proceeded to shake me awake, the exhaustion of the previous day's events still weighing heavily on their eyes.
The Awoken Moon Sect's entrance test was just two days away.
"'Get up, free loader,' Huo Feng said, his voice cracking slightly despite the smirk on his face. He nudged me with his boot, trying to mask the exhaustion creeping into his bones.
"Morning, Huo Feng," I muttered, sitting up, "What do you need me to do around here?"
"It's early morning now," Huo Feng noted, "and I'll be leaving in a few hours. Before that, help me with the chores. We'll be finished before Father, and the girls wake up."
I replied enthusiastically. I would get to become a cultivator soon. I rolled up the sleeves of my robe. "Let's get to work." We began the morning tasks together. Within 45 minutes, their work was complete.
Sweating and tired, we shared a brief moment of respite, taking a seat on the sturdy bench beside the house.
"Can you teach me that spear technique you were practising the other night?" When I had asked yesterday, he'd only let me shadow him. I needed as much information as possible.
He considered my request and eventually shook his head. "Two days of practice won't be enough to secure a spot in the sect. You look like you've at least had some fights. Don't you have your own practice sets to do?"
"All it is is hunter's training for my bow."
Huo Qianlei sighed, "Sure, but don't expect it to help you much," he replied.
"Thank you."
He snorted and got up to teach me the technique. About an hour later, Huo Qianlei also woke up.
Huo Feng had left for his guard post about ten minutes before.
"Morning, boyo. Has little Feng gone off to the guard station yet?" Huo Qianlei asked.
"Yes, sir. He left just before you woke up." In my hands was a jug of milk, and I poured it out into Huo Qianlei's mug, revealing the almost imperceptible marks the spear technique had begun to leave on my hands.
"Khan!" I froze, and Huo Qianlei clutched my arms, spilling the milk, "What happened to your palms?"
"I was training."
"Quick! Hide them!" The force he used to pull me to the floor was like that of a bull; he would take large pieces of hay and scrub my hands with the fallen milk till my palms started to bleed.
"Stop!" I shoved, and he only pulled tighter.
"You can't let any officials see those marks! Learning guard techniques before you're a guard is a capital crime!"
I stopped resisting and let the blood drain from my face.
A sigh told me Huo Qianlei was done. "Stop learning that technique. The cultivator's might not care, but…"
He didn't need to finish his sentence and got up, as if nothing had happened. "I'm going to make breakfast for the kids and us, then we can head off to the city fields."
Afterwards, Huo Qianlei and I walked the girls to a relatively large and well-kept hut where we found an old lady, probably 100 to 120 years old.
Her wrinkled face hid sharp eyes.
She was called Healer Yao Po.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, whispers of anticipation filled the air. Aspirants bristled with anticipation as the sect evaluation loomed closer.
I kept my hands hidden.
And I trained again.