"Haozi..." Jin Yu began softly.
Haozi only lowered his head further, waiting for whatever fate would come.
"From this moment on, I want you to remember something," Jin Yu said, his voice steady. "The day I saw you, I never considered you a slave. I saw you as a younger brother—one I never had. So you need to start acting like one."
He paused, then added, "And I promise you—I’ll find where you came from. I’ll find your family. But if I never do... then I’ll be your brother, your parents, your family. Haozi, you’ll never be alone in this world—because you’ll always have me."
He didn’t even know when those words poured out—only that they did.
And then, silence.
Pin-drop silence.
The three men brought their horses to a stop.
Haozi, his head still bowed, trembled—from soul to skin. His face turned pale as he slowly looked up at Jin Yu, who had turned his horse around to face him. Jin Yu's eyes were calm, steady, sincere.
Haozi trembled again as their eyes met.
Min Lei’s eyes were as wide as sausages. He stared at Jin Yu like he was looking at a ghost.
His heart thudded, stunned. A tear slid down before he even realized.
Haozi broke. He covered his face as sobs wracked his body, muffled cries spilling out.
In a blink, Jin Yu phased and appeared beside him on his horse. He pulled Haozi into a hug and gently patted his back.
The crying only grew louder as Haozi melted into the warmth of Jin Yu’s arms.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Jin Yu whispered, his voice soothing as he rubbed his back.
Rainbow, who had been quiet all this while, turned a soft, sorrowful gray and stretched out a small root—patting Haozi’s back too.
After a long while of sobbing into Jin Yu’s chest, Haozi finally calmed down. He looked up at Jin Yu, his eyes still red, but he said nothing.
Jin Yu chuckled softly and wiped away the lingering tears. Rainbow, ever gentle, flicked a tear from his cheek with her little root.
“Tell me, how old are you?” Jin Yu asked.
“Fifteen,” Haozi replied bashfully, eyes dropping again.
“Hmph. Yet you cry like a toddler. You need to man up, okay?”
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“Okay,” he nodded quickly.
“Good. From now on, call me Brother Yu, got it?”
Haozi looked back at him, and his eyes instantly welled up again.
“If you cry again, I’ll bash you up. Say it—call me Brother Yu. Understand?” Jin Yu scolded, though his tone was more teasing than stern.
“Understand!” Haozi nodded repeatedly, wiping his eyes.
“Good boy. Now let’s go kick some ass.” Jin Yu ruffled his short hair before phasing back to his own horse.
He turned to Min Lei, who was still frozen in place, mouth slightly open.
“Close your mouth and move your arse,” Jin Yu said, then galloped off after the carriage, which was now nearing the gates in the distance.
---
From the distance, under the shade of trees, Jin Yu watched as the men’s carriage stopped at the gate. He half-expected the border sentinels to inspect them, but wasn’t surprised when one of the men tossed a pouch toward a sentinel. The guard peeked inside, then gave a casual signal. The gates creaked open, and just like that, they passed through—smooth as butter.
“Let’s go,” Jin Yu said, spurring his horse forward. Min Lei and Haozi followed close behind.
“Stop!” barked the same guard who took the bribe. He stepped into their path. “Where are you headed? Why this gate?”
Jin Yu stared at him like he was some lowly insect. The guard’s brow twitched at the disdain in his eyes.
“Are you dea—”
“Your mother is deaf, you filthy mutt!” Min Lei snapped before he could finish. “How dare you block Heaven’s Child!”
“You little—!”
“How dare you, dog!”
The loud exchange drew every sentinel from the gatehouse. Soon, Jin Yu and his group were surrounded.
“Looking for trouble, are you?!” one of the guards growled.
“Tch tch tch... blind fools begging for death—”
“Shut your mouth, brat! Drag them off their horses. They need a less—!”
Peng!
A burst of Qi exploded. One of the guards flew back, crashing hard into the gate. Jin Yu didn’t even move from his saddle.
“Attac—!”
They barely unsheathed their swords when—
A dreadful, ancient aura swept through the air. It was cold. Noble. Divine.
The Jin family token glinted in Haozi’s hand. No words were needed.
Silence crashed down like a hammer.
Weapons clattered to the ground. The sentinels paled and stepped back. All eyes turned to a man among them.
“P-please... forgive our transgressions, noble one,” stammered the bribed guard. “Please, proceed freely—”
“You think your sick apologies can wash away your filth?” Jin Yu's voice was calm, but each word dripped with contempt. “You take bribes. You draw swords on nobles. You insult the Jin family at their gate?”
The guard dropped to his knees with a thud, sweat trailing down his temple. “I-I didn’t know, noble one, I swear—!”
“Of course you didn’t know,” Jin Yu cut in coldly. “That’s the problem.”
He turned slightly, glancing at Min Lei. “How many should I cripple for this insult?”
Min Lei grinned. “All of them?”
Jin Yu raised a hand, then dropped it casually. “Too generous.”
Before the guards could blink, Min Lei vanished from his horse and reappeared beside the kneeling man—his leg shattered with a sickening crack before he even realized what happened.
“Ahhh!”
The rest of the sentinels trembled, rooted in place as Min Lei returned to his saddle like nothing happened.
“Let this be a lesson,” Jin Yu said, voice low and sharp as a blade. “Next time you raise a hand against someone bearing the Jin name, you won’t walk away with legs.”
Haozi still held the token high, his expression unreadable.
Jin Yu turned his horse, flicked his sleeve, and rode past the now silent gate. The guards stepped aside instantly, heads bowed, not daring to breathe too loud.
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
(Emotion provoked: Fear)
As the three passed through, Rainbow’s leaves shook ever so slightly—mocking, perhaps.
---
The dust of the gate still lingered behind them as Jin Yu, Min Lei, and Haozi galloped forward, eyes locked on the carriage already disappearing into the sparse forest ahead. The bribed sentinels remained frozen at the gate, too frightened to even breathe in their direction.
“Cowards,” Min Lei muttered, eyes still burning from earlier. “They’re lucky Master didn’t take their heads.”
Jin Yu didn’t speak. His gaze was fixed on the carriage’s fading silhouette, wheels kicking up earth in uneven rhythm.
“That’s them,” he said quietly. “Keep distance, but don’t lose them.”
“Yes, Master.”
They trailed at a moderate pace, weaving between patches of scattered trees as the road narrowed. The thick wilderness was behind them now—this forest felt more like a passageway than true cover. Still, it was enough to move without drawing attention.
Haozi occasionally glanced back, still clutching the token to his chest. The way his shoulders stayed straight showed something had changed in him since the hug—his steps carried more purpose now, more strength.
For almost an hour, they kept to the trail. The carriage ahead never stopped, nor did it speed up. It was clear the passengers weren’t worried about being followed—likely thinking the bribe had handled everything.
Then, the forest opened up. The road began to slope downward and curve, and in the near distance, Jadeleaf City revealed itself.
A towering green-tinged wall encircled the city like a jewel embedded in stone. Its gates, unlike the border ones, were far more disciplined—flanked by cultivators dressed in sect-affiliated armor and guards that stood straight and alert.
The carriage slowed as it approached the outer inspection zone, now caught between leaving the forest and stepping into the city's reach.
Jin Yu tugged his reins, slowing his horse.
“We wait,” he said.
Min Lei raised a brow. “Planning something?”
“Let’s see who they talk to,” Jin Yu said, eyes narrowing. “And if they walk in without trouble again… we’ll follow.”
His lips curled into a faint smirk.
“But not quietly this time.”