The morning air felt heavy.
Li Yuan stood at the edge of the stone courtyard, gazing at the grey sky. There was no training today. Only silence. A silence that seemed to urge the students to reflect more deeply on their existence at Qinglong Academy.
In a corner of the courtyard, Mu Yi Fan Tu and several students from other villages huddled together, speaking in hushed voices.
"You've realized it, haven't you?"
"What?"
"This training… it's not about defending villages. It's not about protection. This is—"
"—about killing," Mu Yi Fan Tu quietly interrupted.
A younger student, his face marked with bruises and cuts, stared at the ground. His voice trembled.
"Are we… going to be turned into assassins? Secretly wiping out the nation's enemies?"
No one answered. Because deep down, they all knew… the answer was yes.
On the other side of the courtyard, Li Yuan sat beneath the old tree. His breathing was steady. In his left hand, he held a stone; his right hand slowly clenched. He listened to the whispers of the wind, as if seeking answers hidden in the voice of the world.
"If all this is meant for killing… will I lose my understanding?"
"Does understanding mean avoiding violence… or knowing when it's necessary?"
In his heart, the voice of the old teacher from his village—the one who had taught him how to read and write—still echoed.
"True strength is not in killing, but in knowing when and why something must be destroyed."
Footsteps approached. Mu Yi Fan Tu now stood before him.
"Li Yuan, do you see where this training is leading?"
"I do," Li Yuan replied simply.
"And do you agree with it?"
Li Yuan looked up at him.
"I don't seek strength to kill. But… I can't close my eyes if the world forces me to."
"If my understanding leads to killing, then I will kill."
"But I will not kill… without understanding its meaning."
Mu Yi Fan Tu fell silent, then gave a short laugh.
"You're strange… but maybe, that's exactly what this world needs."
That night, in their separate rooms, the students grew restless. The scent of blood from combat training still clung to their memories. And amid their quiet anxiety, one question crept into each of their hearts:
"Will I… become a killer?"
Meanwhile, on the highest floor of the academy, Wen Zhi sat beneath the stars. He wrote a single note:
"This generation… is not just strong."
"They've begun to ask."