"At your command !" The soldier bowed respectfully. After that, he left the hall to prepare the troops that would be deployed to search for Yun Xia.
***
The morning dew dampened the pine needles on the slopes of Mount Huashan. The cold air still blanketed the area as the soft sound of wind echoed among the granite cliffs, towering like walls guarding the sky.
At a simple building atop Mount Huashan, Yun Xia stood in the middle of the courtyard, his eyes closed, his breath steady, following the instructions of the man before him—Cia Sun, the Golden Lion.
Yet this training had not begun with physical movements. Cia Sun did not immediately throw the young boy into the battlefield or harsh martial training like most martial arts masters did. He fully understood that wounds of the soul were much harder to heal than those of the body. In silence, Cia Sun observed Yun Xia, who still looked dazed, sometimes gazing blankly at the sky as if his soul was still trapped in the ruins of the Han Dynasty palace. The Golden Lion knew Yun Xia's spirit was still deeply shattered by the tragedy that had befallen his family.
In the first few days, Cia Sun only told him to fetch water from the mountain spring, sweep the stone courtyard, and gather firewood. These tasks seemed trivial, but Yun Xia performed them without protest.
However, Cia Sun knew Yun Xia was simply following orders without meaning. One morning, Cia Sun stopped him in the middle of his firewood gathering.
"What are you thinking about when you pick up those branches?" he asked calmly.
Yun Xia was silent.
"Death," he finally whispered.
Cia Sun was not surprised. He stepped closer and said, "And then?"
"Loss. My father, my mother, my two older sisters, the palace… the army, everything is gone."
"Then what is left of you, Yun Xia?"
Yun Xia looked at him. There was no answer.
Cia Sun gently patted his shoulder.
"If you believe there's nothing left, then you are truly dead. But if you can find even one thing, no matter how small, that still remains within you—then that will be your beginning as an heir."
Yun Xia remained silent. He was still too young to fully grasp the meaning of Cia Sun's words. But Cia Sun understood that, and he would not give up on reviving Yun Xia's spirit.
He believed that his patience and dedication in educating Yun Xia would not be in vain. There was great potential within this boy.
The following days were filled with conversations like these. Amidst the light physical tasks, Cia Sun carefully devised ways to slowly peel away the fog clouding Yun Xia's mind. He did not force Yun Xia to forget the past, but instead asked him to embrace it as his strength.
Three weeks passed.
One morning, Cia Sun called Yun Xia into the meditation room.
"Today you will begin your real training," he said.
Yun Xia bowed respectfully.
"What do you wish to achieve from this training?"
"To become stronger," Yun Xia answered firmly.
"For what purpose?"
"To avenge the death of my family!" Yun Xia declared without hesitation.
Cia Sun smiled. "Your answer is understandable, Prince. But remember, true strength is not meant for revenge. Power driven by hatred will collapse along with its own rage."
Yun Xia was confused by the Golden Lion's words that seemed to both accept and reject his answer.
"Then what should I do, Master?"
"When the time is right, when you are strong and able to stand on your own, there is a secret I will share with you, Prince."
"Very well, Master. I will wait for that day."
Cia Sun smiled. From that day on, Yun Xia's true training began.
Mornings were filled with meditation and body strengthening through ancient breathing techniques from the Sleeping Dragon scroll. The afternoons were spent practicing barehanded martial arts and using a wooden staff. Cia Sun had yet to allow him to wield a sword or any sharp weapon. He planned to pass down all his skills and make Yun Xia the next Golden Lion.
"A weapon is the extension of your intent. If your intent is not pure, your weapon will pierce you first," Cia Sun said when Yun Xia asked.
Meanwhile, back at the former Han Dynasty palace now under Ming Dynasty control, the atmosphere was tense. Zhong Yi had just returned from the Ming Dynasty's royal palace with an honor guard. Victory banners flew high, and the officers greeted him with cheers.
But upon arriving at the main hall, Zhong Yi's expression changed instantly when Jian Ma hurried in with a tense face.
"There is an important report you must know, my Lord…"
Zhong Yi narrowed his eyes. "Speak quickly."
Jian Ma exhaled heavily. "We have received a report that one member of the Han royal family has managed to escape our purge. The sole surviving son of Emperor Yun Hao, named Yun Xia. I fear if the boy is allowed to live, he may one day become a thorn to the Ming Dynasty."
Zhong Yi froze. His face darkened.
"Why are you only reporting this now?!" he shouted, his voice echoing loudly through the stone hall.
But Jian Ma, the cunning politician and master flatterer, immediately knelt and bowed low.
"Forgive me, my Lord. As soon as the report came in, our patrol forces were immediately dispatched. All border points are heavily guarded. We have even sent shadow hunting squads throughout the southern mountains. We will find him."
Zhong Yi let out a long sigh. His chest rumbled with a mix of fury and unease. He knew very well that if Yun Xia had survived and was being protected by a powerful figure, it would mean a new threat was growing for the future.
"Find him. Capture him. Or I will consider you all traitors!"
"Yes, Commander!"
That night, Zhong Yi sat alone in the stone pavilion that had once belonged to the previous emperor. In his hands, he stared at a large map of the territories he had conquered. His eyes swept over Mount Huashan, appearing as a small dot in the distance.
"I wonder where that boy is hiding," he muttered. He then gazed up at the night sky. He realized that someone close to Emperor Yun Hao must have taken Yun Xia away during the palace assault.
Back on Mount Huashan, Yun Xia's training intensified. He was now learning Cia Sun's signature martial art—the Golden Sky Claw—a style that combined wind-like movements with strikes as swift as an eagle's and as powerful as a lion's.
The training was grueling, but Yun Xia never complained. Every wound, every fall, he accepted as a step toward his rise.
One night, as they sat before a campfire, Cia Sun finally said, "Tomorrow you will wield your first sword. But before that, there is something I want you to know."
Cia Sun then took out a silk scroll and a jade eagle pendant from a long-sealed wooden chest. Although the message from Bao An had instructed that the scroll be given to Yun Xia only when he was ready, Cia Sun decided to hand it over early. His purpose was to ignite Yun Xia's spirit and push him to train even harder.
"This is from your father. He entrusted it to Bao An, who asked me to give it to you when the time was right. I believe that time is now."
Yun Xia received both with trembling hands. His eyes began to glisten.
The scroll contained an old map and a message written in golden ink:
Yun Xia, my son… If you are reading this, then hope still lives. You are the last legacy. Rise, and lead. Revive the Han Dynasty and destroy the arrogance of the Ming Dynasty.
Yun Xia looked at Cia Sun. "I will become stronger. Not for revenge, but for hope," he said as he placed the jade pendant around his neck.
Cia Sun smiled. "That's the rig
ht answer. When you have mastered everything I have to teach you, the world will know the Han Dynasty is not truly dead."