The rough grain of the punishment pole stood starkly in the center of the training yard. Zhu Mingyang, Gu Yingjie's personal guard from the Gu Family, was all too familiar with it; it was here that he had once traded his life for the chance at revenge. More importantly, it was here that he first realized someone still cared about him.
He wasn't sure if the cry was real or just the ringing in his ears, but he heard Gu Yingjie's sweet, soft voice calling his name. He then saw Gu Yingjie, a blur of panicked motion, flying towards him. He no longer kept track of how many times he had rushed to rescue his young master, or how many times Gu Yingjie had rushed to rescue him. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that voice, crying out, "Mingyang."
His mind was a haze, struggling to form coherent thoughts. Though he still registered the intense pain, his surroundings shifted from the chaos of the training yard to the soft glow of an oil lamp. He felt as though he was being dragged back to that day in a simple tavern on the outskirts of Sword Village. The lamp cast a dim light across the room, illuminating his severe injuries. He could see the dark, slow trail of blood originating from his right chest, running down his firm abdomen, and steadily soaking the belt secured around his waist.
Zhu Mingyang's back was a roadmap of past torments, crisscrossed with a tapestry of faded scars and angry, newer lesions. Ignoring the evidence of his past, he focused on the present agony, grabbing a piece of white cloth from the table and pressing it firmly onto the deep wound on his right chest. For most, such a gruesome injury would be paralyzing, but Zhu Mingyang was long past the point of ordinary pain; he had become utterly prone to such wounds and no longer flinched. The sharp knock on the door made him look up. Standing there was Gu Yingjie, holding a wooden basin filled with water.
"Go over with your right foot," Zhu Mingyang instructed, his voice flat but precise. "Walk straight for ten steps, and then put the wash basin on the table."
Gu Yingjie carefully lifted his right foot over the door frame and began his silent count. He took ten deliberate steps straight forward, but on the last step, his right knee bumped hard against a chair. He stopped, placing the basin on the table exactly as instructed. He then used the table's edge to guide himself onto the chair next to Zhu Mingyang. He sat patiently, waiting for Zhu Mingyang to finish cleaning his wound.
Zhu Mingyang looked at his young master, his tone even. "How are your eyes?" he asked.
Gu Yingjie replied softly, "I can start to see vague shadows, like figures."
"So, Mu Dishi didn't lie," Zhu Mingyang murmured, a touch of surprise in his voice.
"The gentleman who was with him said Mu Dishi doesn't lie," Gu Yingjie confirmed.
Zhu Mingyang finished cleaning his wound, applied the medicine, and secured a cloth gauze over the injury. He then passed the long white cloth to Gu Yingjie. Gu Yingjie's skilled hands wrapped the bandage around Zhu Mingyang's shoulder, tying it securely. Once the task was complete, he didn't pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Zhu Mingyang's waist and rested his left cheek gently on his shoulder. Zhu Mingyang immediately felt the sudden warmth of Gu Yingjie's tears falling onto his wounded right shoulder.
Zhu Mingyang spoke, his voice low and firm. "Yingjie, don't let anyone see your tears. As the heir to the Gu family, you must know better than to cry. If the enemy ever sees this weakness, they will end your life without hesitation." He stretched out his hand and gently wiped the warm tears from Gu Yingjie's cheek.
Gu Yingjie didn't pull away. He only tightened his grip around Zhu Mingyang's waist, burying his face deeper into his guard's shoulder. "I know, Mingyang," he whispered against the fresh bandages. "I only dare to let them fall when it's you holding me. You will be the only one who ever sees me cry."
His hand moved from Zhu Mingyang's waist, tracing a path across his left abdomen and around toward his back. His fingers delicately stroked a long, prominent scar. "Mingyang, every scar on your body is because of me," he confessed, his voice heavy with guilt. "No matter how many you have, I will always remember every single one, especially this one." He traced his fingers right beside the jagged line. "This was your very first scar. Those wolf's claws were so long. I thought I had lost you that day."
Zhu Mingyang gently patted the back of Gu Yingjie's head, his voice a soft, low comfort. "But I didn't," he murmured, his simple words a powerful dismissal of the fear and guilt Gu Yingjie carried. He then placed a gentle kiss on the side of Gu Yingjie's forehead. The tenderness of the touch unlocked a deeper passage in his mind, and the vivid memories of their shared childhood began to rush back to him.
The memory unfolded in the Gu Family's vast open-air arena, a space dominated by discipline and power. Hundreds of Gu guards, clad in severe black robes with Dao swords strapped securely to their backs, stood sentinel, their sheer numbers a silent, formidable presence. All eyes were drawn to the figure seated commandingly in a chair at the center: Gu Tingfang, the absolute patriarch.
Clustered near the stairwell—a display of the family's lineage and future—stood his twelve children: eight sons and four daughters. In the Gu Family, there was no pretense of gender prejudice; the hierarchy was one of capability and age. The children were ranked by birth order, meaning Gu Yingjie, watched by Zhu Mingyang, stood near the back of the group, the tenth child in line.
Gu Tingfang's voice cut through the arena's silence, ringing with absolute authority. "Bring in the debtors who sold their lives to the Gu Family."
A moment later, a disparate group was marched into the open space: twenty men, four women, and a single, small boy. They were presented before the seated patriarch, his twelve children, and the assembled disciples. An elder member of the Gu household stepped forward, his voice dry and official, reading the name and background of each person—vagrants and criminals, all bound by desperation or punishment.
After reciting the bleak roster, the elder looked up at the leader. "Leader Gu," he announced, "that is all the debtors."
Gu Tingfang swept his gaze over his children and disciples. "Each of you will now choose your personal guard," he commanded, his voice carrying the weight of the law. "Your guard's singular duty is to protect your life with their own. Everyone standing before us has sold their future to the Gu Family."
He paused, reinforcing the magnitude of the vow. "You are the sole owner of your guard, and they will only obey your commands—not even mine. The eldest will choose first."
The selection process was swift and followed the rigid hierarchy. When the choosing was complete, only five debtors remained standing. Of the five, four were clearly inexperienced or seemed sickly, liabilities no one had claimed. The only exception among them was a formidable-looking man known as Lou Longwei.
Gu Zhiruo, one of the youngest children, touched Gu Yingjie's left sleeve, her eyes wide with fear. "Ge," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm very sad. I didn't get to choose first."
Gu Yingjie offered her a reassuring smile. "Don't be sad, Zhiruo," he said, his voice calm. "This is just a family tradition." His composure was a stark contrast to the grim scene.
Gu Tingfang glanced at his three youngest children. "Yingjie, you are next," he commanded, his voice cutting through the silence.
Gu Yingjie stepped forward, but instead of choosing, he made a deep bow. "Father," he requested, his voice respectful but firm. "If you are amenable, I would ask to let my two youngest siblings make their choices first."
Gu Tingfang smiled, a rare expression that signaled his approval. "It is rare to sacrifice for others," he acknowledged. "I will allow it."
The two youngest children quickly made their selections. When they were finished, the selection process ground to a halt. Only three debtors remained standing before the vast assembly: an old woman, a single, strong-looking young man, and the little boy—the last remnants of the group no one wanted.
The elder member of the Gu Household stepped forward again to present the final roster, his voice echoing the grim details of their contracts.
"Grandma Yang," he announced, "eighty years old. She sold her life to the Gu Family to avenge the death of her grandson."
Next: "Luo Longwei," twenty-one years old. "He sold his life to the Gu Family for protection from his enemies. He possesses good swordsmanship skills."
Finally, the elder looked at the smallest figure: "Zhu Mingyang," thirteen years old. "He sold his life to the Gu Family to avenge his mother's death."
The elder looked back at the patriarch. The choice was now entirely Gu Yingjie's.
Gu Yingjie looked at the little boy, who stood three years older than himself. Zhu Mingyang neither spoke nor made eye contact with anyone; he simply stood there, cloaked in profound sadness. Yet, beneath the grief, Gu Yingjie recognized a burning, unyielding determination in the boy's gaze.
Every person within the arena was certain of the outcome—Gu Yingjie would logically choose the skilled fighter, Luo Longwei.
The silence in the vast space stretched taut, then broke as Gu Yingjie spoke, his voice clear and resonant: "Zhu Mingyang."
A collective, audible gasp swept through the hundreds of assembled guards and disciples.
Gu Tingfang narrowed his gaze on the young Gu Yingjie. "Jie'er, are you certain?" he pressed, giving his son one last chance to reconsider the illogical choice.
"Yes, Father," Gu Yingjie replied, his voice unwavering. "I choose Zhu Mingyang as my guard."
Gu Tingfang issued his commands, sealing the fates of the two remaining debtors. "Take Grandma Yang to the kitchens," he ordered, giving the elderly woman a strange reprieve. "Send Luo Longwei underground."
He then addressed the assembly of newly chosen guards, his voice hardening into unyielding law. "From this moment forward, each of you will train with utmost intensity. Your sole task is to protect the life of your master, even if it demands the sacrifice of your own life. If your master is injured, you will be severely punished. Understand this: your life, from now on, belongs entirely to your master."
For the next four months, the newly chosen guards were subjected to training that was both rigorous and arduous, pushing them to their physical and mental limits every day. Upon completing the first phase, they were immediately instructed to accompany the Gu children on a ceremonial hunting trip.
Zhu Mingyang and Gu Yingjie wandered deep into the silent woods until the exertion finally wore on the young master. Finding a large, secluded rock, they settled down to rest.
Gu Yingjie looked at Zhu Mingyang with a touch of youthful shyness. "Mingyang, I need to pee," he whispered. He then ran behind the rock and quickly began to untie his belt.
Gu Yingjie glanced over and saw his younger sister, Gu Zhiruo, and her personal guard nearby. The two were laughing softly as they picked flowers; Zhiruo placed a bloom behind her guard's right ear, and he smiled down at her.
The idyllic moment shattered instantly.
An arrow ripped out of the surrounding woods and pierced the guard's left chest. He crumpled to the ground, and before he was even still, a second arrow flew, striking Gu Zhiruo's chest. The five-year-old girl fell silently beside her guard.
Gu Yingjie slowly melted behind the cover of the stone, his heart hammering against his ribs. After a tense, agonizing wait, satisfied that no one was moving nearby, he began to crawl back toward Zhu Mingyang with painful slowness.
"Why are you crawling?" Zhu Mingyang whispered, confused by his master's slow approach.
In an instant, Gu Yingjie clapped a hand over Zhu Mingyang's mouth, silencing him completely. He then dragged his guard low, wedging them tightly between two small rocks. They didn't know the identities of the two masked men now moving through the trees, but the cold reality of Zhiruo's death was clear: these men were here to kill them.
"I thought I saw him here," the first masked man muttered, his voice rough.
The second person laughed, a dry, chilling sound. "There will be other opportunities to kill him."
The footsteps receded into the forest, leaving behind a silence far more terrifying than the noise of the initial attack.
Zhu Mingyang and Gu Yingjie remained hidden until the forest plunged into twilight. It was almost sunset before they dared to crawl out, and by the time they began their journey back toward the Gu residence, the night was absolute. The chilling howls of wolves echoed through the darkness, raising the tension.
"Hurry... walk faster," Zhu Mingyang urged, grabbing Gu Yingjie's right hand and pulling him along.
As the two boys finally emerged from the dense woods, a small wolf was waiting for them. It dropped into a crouch and growled, its eyes reflecting the faint light. Zhu Mingyang instantly pulled Gu Yingjie behind him. When the wolf launched itself forward, Zhu Mingyang shoved Gu Yingjie backward with all his might. The force of the push sent Gu Yingjie tumbling to the ground, resulting in a sprained ankle. Simultaneously, the wolf's weight slammed into Zhu Mingyang, nailing him to the earth.
The wolf pinned him to the earth, its jaws snapping close. He reacted instantly, throwing both hands up to seize the wolf's neck. In the ensuing struggle, the sharp claw of the wolf's right leg pierced deeply into his left abdomen.
The searing pain was a brutal, immediate clarity: if he yielded, the wolf would kill him, and then Gu Yingjie. He channeled the agony into raw, desperate strength, squeezing the wolf's throat with all his might. The more the wolf's leg inflicted pain, the harder he tightened his grip. After a desperate, violent struggle, the young wolf finally went limp and died.
Zhu Mingyang shoved the dead weight off his chest. He was bleeding heavily, but the first sound he registered was the frantic, panicked sobbing of Gu Yingjie. He slowly got to his feet, ignoring the throbbing pain, and turned toward his young, frightened master.
Gu Yingjie sobbed, clutching at his guard. "Mingyang... Mingyang... I can't stand up!"
Zhu Mingyang bent down, ignoring the blinding pain in his abdomen. "I will carry you back home," he promised simply.
Clinging to his guard, Gu Yingjie was carried out of the dark woods. When they finally returned to the Gu Manor, they presented a grim spectacle of blood and injury.
Gu Tingfang was already waiting, his face thunderous and his rage already boiling. He had just received the devastating message that his youngest daughter, Gu Zhiruo, had been murdered by unknown assailants. Now, to see Gu Yingjie limping and leaning on his guard, was the final, unbearable spark. The patriarch's anger, magnified by grief, did not fall on his son. Instead, his cold gaze settled squarely and mercilessly upon the severely injured Zhu Mingyang.
Gu Tingfang's face contorted with rage. "Do you think I was joking when I said that if your master got hurt, you would be punished severely?"
Zhu Mingyang, swaying slightly from loss of blood, simply replied, "No."
"Good. Since this is your first time, and I am not a heartless man, I will show mercy," Gu Tingfang stated, his voice laced with cold sarcasm. "You will receive three whip lashes on your back. Do you have any objections?"
"No," Zhu Mingyang whispered.
Two burly guards immediately stepped forward, seizing Zhu Mingyang and dragging him to the punishment pole. Ignoring his desperate abdominal wound, one of the guards uncoiled his whip. The sharp crack of the first lash instantly echoed across the courtyard.
The sharp crack of the first whip tore through the air and across Zhu Mingyang's back. The burning wound felt like a brand of fire, and the sheer pain dropped him instantly to his knees. When the second lash fell, the agony was so total that he involuntarily voided his pants, yet his throat remained locked—he did not utter a single cry. The third whip descended with a final, blinding shock of pain, and Zhu Mingyang mercifully collapsed into unconsciousness.
When Zhu Mingyang regained consciousness, he was lying on a straw mat inside the dim woodshed. His left abdomen bled sluggishly into the straw, matching the furious, fresh weeping of the three whip lashes across his back. A moment later, the door creaked slowly inward. Gu Yingjie slipped inside, carefully and secretly pulling the door shut behind him.
Gu Yingjie collapsed beside him, weeping openly. "Mingyang, I'm so sorry... It's all my fault you were hit." He extended a trembling hand, offering Zhu Mingyang a small bottle of medicine.
Zhu Mingyang took the medicine, his eyes burning with fierce resolve. "I promise you this: I will become the strongest guard in the history of the Gu Family. I will protect you until my last breath."
He stretched out his bloody hand and gently wiped the tears from Gu Yingjie's face. "You must remember not to cry," he warned, his voice low and firm. "If your enemies see your tears, they will end your life without hesitation."