The morning mist shrouded the slopes of Mount Huashan. The air was so cold that each breath formed thin wisps of vapor. Ancient trees stood in silence, their branches dripping with dew, as if mourning the fall of the Han Dynasty. Amidst the dense forest, two figures slowly made their way along a narrow path, strewn with roots and sharp stones.
Bao An tightly held Yun Xia with one arm, while his other hand gripped the worn hilt of his sword. His body was wounded and weary from the long journey, but his eyes remained vigilant. All along the way, he kept glancing over his shoulder, ensuring that no spies from the Ming Dynasty were pursuing them.
No matter what, Yun Xia's safety was his top priority. The oath of a soldier still bound him. As long as a royal descendant lived, it was his duty to protect them above all else—even his own life.
"Are we close, Uncle Bao?" Yun Xia asked softly, his voice faint and nearly drowned by the rustling wind.
Bao An gazed at the misty peak ahead. "We're almost there, Prince. Just a little further."
Yun Xia nodded, though his body trembled from the cold and exhaustion. He was only nine years old, but his eyes reflected the ruin of the palace, the screams of the servants, and the image of his father standing tall in the palace hall, refusing to retreat.
---
Before long, they arrived at a wide clearing hidden behind thick bamboo groves. In the center stood a simple yet sturdy wooden hut. Smoke rose from a small chimney on the roof. Faint metallic scraping sounds echoed from within, as if someone was sharpening a sword.
Bao An took a deep breath. He knew this was the place—the one Emperor Yun Hao had spoken of.
With steady steps, he approached the door and knocked three times, then stepped back while holding Yun Xia's arm.
Footsteps approached from inside, the wooden floor creaked softly, and the door slowly opened. A tall figure appeared in the doorway. His long white hair was neatly tied back, his robe a faded gold, and his sharp eyes studied Bao An and Yun Xia with curiosity.
"Who are you?" he asked calmly, but with an unmistakable pressure in his tone.
Bao An immediately bowed. "I am Bao An, General of the Han Dynasty. And this is His Highness, Prince Yun Xia, son of Emperor Yun Hao."
The man's expression changed instantly. For a moment, the surrounding wind seemed to stop. Cia Sun, the Golden Lion, stared intently at the boy's face—as if searching for traces of the past in his features.
"Prince Yun Xia…" he murmured. "You look just like your father."
"Grandfather, who are you? Did you know my father?"
"My name is Cia Sun, Prince. I was a close friend of your father for many years. The last time we met was here, about a year ago," Cia Sun replied.
The warrior known as the Golden Lion then turned to Bao An. A furrow appeared on his wrinkled forehead.
"You're wounded, General?"
Bao An stepped forward. "Master, I bring a message from His Majesty. The Han Dynasty has fallen. The three main fortresses of the capital have crumbled. Emperor Yun Hao chose to fight until the end and… he may have fallen alongside the thousands of soldiers who defended the palace."
Cia Sun said nothing. He turned away, his gaze lost in the gray sky. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but his expression remained sharp.
"Come inside. Let's talk there," he said, then stepped into his hut.
Still carrying Yun Xia, Bao An followed him inside.
The three of them sat on the bamboo-matted floor.
Bao An continued, his voice trembling but firm, "Before I left the palace, Emperor Yun Hao ordered me to bring Prince Yun Xia here. He said there was only one person left who could protect him—and that person is you, Master."
Bao An carefully unwrapped a bundle from beneath his cloak. He handed over a silk scroll sealed with red wax and a jade pendant shaped like an eagle.
"These are the Emperor's last entrusted items for Prince Yun Xia. He ordered me to give them to the Prince when he comes of age. But I believe you should keep them for now."
Cia Sun accepted both items with trembling hands. He gazed at the jade eagle, and memories came flooding back like a storm: secret conversations with Emperor Yun Hao, cold nights atop Mount Huashan, and the oath they once made—that if the Han Dynasty were to fall, its bloodline must be preserved.
He knelt before Yun Xia. For the first time, the Golden Lion bowed his head.
"Little Prince," he said softly, "Your name was mentioned in every conversation we had. Your father was both a friend and a true leader. Starting today, I will protect you as I once protected your father's honor."
Yun Xia gazed at him in silence. His eyes were still wet, but within them, something new began to take root—a small flame of will to survive.
Bao An slowly bowed his head, then whispered, "I have fulfilled my duty, Young Master. Now, your future rests in the hands of the Golden Lion."
Cia Sun reached out his hand to Yun Xia.
"From this day on, you will live in the shadow of the mountain and endure harsh training. But one day, when the time comes, you will descend from this mountain—not as a fleeing boy, but as the Last Heir of the Han Dynasty."
---
That night, Bao An sat on the porch of the hut, gazing at the stars. Cia Sun prepared medicine for his wounds, and Yun Xia was already asleep inside. The night wind carried the sounds of owls and rustling leaves.
"You know, Master," Bao An said quietly, "I never truly believed the legends about you. About how you defeated five northern warriors with your bare hands, or made the pirate king surrender without a fight."
Cia Sun chuckled softly. "Stories are often exaggerated. But not all of them are lies."
Bao An turned his head. "What will you do with the prince now?"
Cia Sun stared at the campfire before him. "I will train him. Hide him. Make the world believe that Prince Yun Xia is dead."
"And if one day he returns?"
"If he returns," Cia Sun answered, "it won't be because of destiny, but because he chose to rise. And when he stands, the world will tremble. You will be the one to pave the way for him to restore the Han Dynasty."
Bao An nodded. He then removed his armor and set it aside. "In that case, allow me to stay for a few more days—until I'm sure everything is safe."
Cia Sun didn't reply, but slowly nodded. The two men sat in silence. Above them, the stars shone brightly—as if witnessing the birth of a new destiny.
Inside the hut, Yun Xia dreamed. In his sleep, he saw his father standing atop the burning palace walls, raising his sword and shouting loudly:
"We may lose today… but as long as Han Dynasty blood flows, the hope for glory will never perish!"
And in his dream, Yun Xia answered, "I will return, Father. I will restore our honor."