The Broken Paths

The brutal winter had begun to fade, though the icy grip of January still held strong. Trade routes, once frozen and lifeless, had started to open, signalling the slow arrival of spring. Yet in the heart of the Shrouded Peaks, a battle raged—one unseen, one unspoken.

A Body Fighting Without Qi

Atlas lay in silence, yet his body told another story. His muscles tensed, his fingers twitched, and at times, his breath came in ragged gasps. There was no Qi disturbance, no external force acting upon him—yet it was clear he was fighting something. Something unseen. Something deep within.

Shen Xue sat beside him, arms crossed, her gaze dark. "This isn't normal. He should be healing, but instead, his body looks like it's suffering through a war we can't see."

The young slave girl—still unnamed—knelt beside Atlas, her small hands gripping his sleeve. She had rarely spoken since arriving, but she watched him constantly, as if waiting for him to wake up. When his body convulsed, she flinched but did not move away. Instead, she placed a careful hand on his forehead, as if that alone could calm him.

Shen Xue sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "It's not helping. But…"

She glanced at her. "You're not afraid anymore, are you?"

She hesitated before shaking her head. No words. Just a simple refusal.

"Hmph. You've gotten stronger."

Shen Xue leaned forward slightly, observing Atlas's pained expression. She exhaled, deep in thought.

"There are two possibilities. First, his body is suffering because it's trying to heal, but the damage is too great, so it's stuck in a cycle of collapse and repair. Without Qi, his body has no external force to guide its recovery, meaning it's breaking itself apart while trying to stay alive."

She hesitated before continuing. "The second theory… it's not just his body fighting, but his mind. Maybe he's stuck in a dream or a memory so vivid that his body is reacting in real-time. If he's reliving something traumatic, his body is responding as if it's happening all over again."

Just as she finished, a heavy presence entered the room.

Master Daokan.

He strode forward, his footsteps slow but deliberate. Without a word, he reached out and ruffled Shen Xue's hair, something he hadn't done in years.

"You're sharp. Both theories have truth to them. His body is caught in a cycle of trying to repair itself, but without Qi, it lacks the energy to complete the process. It's as if his body is tearing itself apart while barely holding on."

Shen Xue frowned. "And the second theory? The one about his mind?"

Daokan exhaled, his gaze lingering on Atlas. "That's the real reason. His body isn't healing because his mind is still fighting. He's reliving something—something so real and consuming that his body believes it's happening all over again. Until he wins that battle, until he finds a reason to wake up, his body will keep suffering."

Shen Xue's hands clenched into fists as a shadow of guilt flickered across her face.

"Then... we can't do anything? We just have to watch him suffer?"

Daokan sighed, stepping closer and placing a firm but gentle hand on her head. "It's not your fault, girl. You're not the reason he's like this. If anything, you're one of the few people who still care enough to sit by his side. That counts for something."

She swallowed hard, her shoulders stiff, but she didn't pull away from his touch. "Then what will bring him back?"

Daokan's eyes softened slightly, yet his voice remained steady. "That's something only he can decide. But when he does wake up, he'll need people here—people he can trust."

A small voice broke the silence. "Then… he will wake up?"

Both Shen Xue and Daokan turned to see the child staring at Atlas, her tiny hands still gripping his sleeve. Her voice was quiet, uncertain, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—hope.

Daokan nodded. "Of course he will. He's stubborn like that."

Lianhua hesitated, then looked up at him. "Then… what can I do? To help?"

Daokan simply gave a smile and said "Just stay here. That's more than enough."

A couple days passed and Shen Xue and Physician Ming takes care of Atlas while the child is learning how to use her body again with Ren.

Master Daokan watched the child from the training grounds, arms folded as Ren gently guided her through a series of basic stances.

She was small, fragile, but she no longer looked lifeless. Emotion is slowing returning to her eyes.

Daokan approached, his presence causing her to tense.

She was still wary of men.

"You need a name" he said bluntly.

"Not just 'child' or 'girl.' A real one."

She looked up at him, uncertainty flickering across her face. "A… name?"

Daokan nodded. "You're starting over. A name marks that. How about... Lianhua?" He smirked. "Lotus. A flower that survives even in the worst conditions. Seems fitting."

She looked at Ren, searching for reassurance. He smiled and ruffled her hair.

"Lianhua, huh? Sounds good to me."

She hesitated before whispering "Lianhua."

The name felt foreign on her tongue, but for the first time, she had something that was hers.

Ren grinned and crouched beside her, his tone playful yet reassuring. "Lianhua, huh? Sounds pretty strong to me. I think it suits you."

She glanced at him uncertainly. "Strong?"

Ren ruffles her hair, laughing. "Of course! A lotus isn't just beautiful, you know. It grows through mud, through the hardest conditions, but still rises above the water. Just like you."

Her fingers curled slightly, as if holding onto the words. Then, for the first time, she smiled—small, hesitant, but real.

The courtyard fell into a stunned silence.

Master Daokan, arms still crossed, let out a deep chuckle. "Well, would you look at that. The little lotus finally bloomed."

Ren beamed with pride, nudging her playfully. "Told you, Lianhua. You're stronger than you think."

Yan Shuren, usually reserved, observed with a small nod of approval. "She's recovering faster than expected. That's good."

Physician Ming, who had been quietly watching from the side, adjusted his robes and sighed. "Smiling is the best medicine, after all."

The disciples whispered amongst themselves, some in awe, others simply touched by the moment.

Elder Feng exhaled deeply. "A true testament to resilience."

Xian Yue, the head of servants, clapped her hands together. "That's the first time I've seen her smile! Look at that face—so precious!"

The servants, who had once only seen Lianhua as a silent shadow, exchanged glances before joining in the warmth of the moment.

For the first time, Lianhua wasn't just a child recovering from the past.

She is now a part of them.

But before the moment could fully settle, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Master Daokan! Master Yan! I need to talk to you alone."

A lean, battle-worn man approached, his breathing heavy from the long journey. His name was Guan Fei, Daokan's most trusted informant. His presence alone was enough to wipe away any lingering sense of victory.

Daokan turned, his expression darkening. "What is it?"

Guan Fei wasted no time. "I found it. The place where the child was originally kept. It's worse than we thought. She wasn't just a slave—she was being trained."

Yan Shuren's sharp gaze narrowed. "Trained by who?"

Guan Fei hesitated before delivering the answer. "Wu Long. A direct descendant of Wu Xun."

Daokan's fingers twitched slightly, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. "Wu Long…?"

Guan Fei nodded grimly. "The description matches exactly. Silver hair, the restless hands, the seal on his wrist. He's the one who ran that place. If Lianhua was under his control, then she wasn't just another captive—she was meant to become a weapon."

A heavy silence fell between them.

Yan Shuren exhaled through his nose. "Then we can't ignore this."

Daokan's jaw tightened before he made his decision. "No. We go after him. Just us."

Yan Shuren glanced at him but didn't argue. They both knew what had to be done.

Daokan continued "Lianhua is just now recovering. Ren has become like an older brother to her. Shen is too busy taking care of Atlas because of her own guilt. We tell no one else. We finish this ourselves."

Guan Fei explained grimly "The compound is located deep in the western mountain range, hidden between two valleys. The terrain is rough, and the only proper entrance is through a guarded pass. It'll take three days of hard travel to get there. The camp is large, housing at least fifty slavers and nearly a hundred captives—some of them fighters forced into servitude."

Yan Shuren exhaled sharply. "Fifty armed men, plus captives who might not even be in a condition to fight back. Two of us against all that?"

Daokan's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "We don't fight them head-on. We burn them down from the inside."

He crouched, dragging a stick through the dirt to outline a crude map.

"We approach under the cover of night, eliminating the outer guards first. Guan Fei, you'll scout ahead and confirm the layout. The main barracks and armory should be separate from the slave quarters. We set small, controlled fires in the supply caches to spread panic."

Yan Shuren nodded, catching on. "By the time they realize what's happening, their forces will be scattered."

Daokan smirked. "Exactly. That Wu Long will respond first. That's where we go in. I'll take the leader, Wu Long. You handle their second-in-command. Once they're down, the rest of the camp falls into chaos. We free as many captives as we can, arm those willing to fight, and wipe out the remaining slavers."

Guan Fei crossed his arms. "And if things go wrong?"

He hesitated for a moment before adding "Master Daokan… this place isn't just some backwater slaver pit. It's heavily funded by nobles. If we burn it down, there will be consequences. Powerful people won't take this lightly."

Daokan scoffed, rolling his shoulders as if the weight of that information was nothing. "Let them whine. They can cry into their gold while I wipe their filth off the map."

He smirked, cracking his knuckles again. "Besides, they wouldn't dare come for me. They know better."

Yan Shuren, arms crossed, let out a thoughtful hum. "By logic, if nobles are investing in this, then surely the emperor himself knows of its existence. What if he decides to intervene?"

Daokan let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly.

"Then let him. If the emperor wants to waste his time chasing me instead of dealing with his collapsing foundation, that's his problem. But I doubt he'll move. He's too tangled in his own web of politics to act swiftly. Besides."

His smirk widened— "We both know he has bigger problems to worry about."

Three nights later, Daokan and Yan Shuren stood at the crest of a cliff overlooking the slaver compound. Beneath them, torchlight flickered against the snowy terrain, illuminating dozens of guards, supply crates, and holding pens filled with captives.

Guan Fei had provided them with precise details—fifty armed slavers, nearly a hundred captives, and one man at the top: Wu Long.

Daokan stretched his arms lazily. "It's a bit smaller than I expected."

Yan Shuren gave him a flat look. "You say that like we aren't outnumbered twenty-five to one."

Daokan smirked. "Numbers are only a problem if we're planning on fighting fair."

Yan Shuren sighed. "You never do."

Daokan crouched, surveying the compound one last time. "Stick to the plan. We spread chaos first. Controlled fires in their supply caches will scatter the guards. Once that happens, you and I go straight for Wu Long and his right-hand man. Take them out, and the rest will crumble."

Yan Shuren nodded. "And the captives?"

"Once the camp is in chaos, we unlock their chains and let them choose. Those who can fight, fight. The rest, we send to safety."

Yan Shuren exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Let's get this over with."