The clang of steel and the distant thunder of hooves echoed across the Northern Frontier. Reports of skirmishes poured into Jiangdu daily, each message carrying tidings darker than the last. Soldiers returned home maimed, their armor stained with dried blood. Even within the Liang manor, the scent of war seemed to seep into the air, sharp as iron.
In the great hall, Lord Liang Zhong sat with his ministers and generals. His once broad shoulders seemed narrower, weighed down by years of service and the burdens of loyalty. Maps of the kingdom stretched across the table, red ink marking the advancing enemy forces.
"The Northern Warlord pushes further into our lands," one general said, bowing low. "The Emperor demands reinforcements from every noble house. Lord Liang, your family must contribute more troops and supplies."
Liang Zhong's fist slammed against the table. "We have already given all we can! Do you expect me to strip Jiangdu bare, leaving even the women and children defenseless?!" His voice, though fierce, trembled with weariness.
Yue listened from behind a carved screen, her heart pounding. She wasn't meant to be here—noble daughters had no place in war councils—but curiosity had drawn her. She peeked through the latticework, watching her father's furrowed brow.
Another minister stepped forward, his robes embroidered with the Emperor's insignia. "If you refuse, my lord, the court will take it as defiance. The House of Liang cannot afford to be branded disloyal."
A tense silence followed. Her father's lips pressed into a thin line. For all his loyalty to the throne, he was cornered like a fox in a snare.
Finally, he sighed. "Very well. I will send word to rally what men we still have. But remember this—when Jiangdu falls, the blame will rest upon those who drained its blood dry."
The meeting ended, the ministers departing with smug expressions. Yue stepped out from hiding, unable to hold her tongue.
"Father," she said, her voice steady though her heart raced, "why do you bow to them? The Emperor and his court care nothing for our family. Must we bleed until nothing remains?"
Liang Zhong's eyes snapped to hers. For a moment, fury burned there—not at her words, but at her daring to speak them. "Yue!" His voice thundered. "You will not speak of such matters again. You are a daughter of Liang, not a soldier. Do not meddle in affairs beyond your station."
Yue's fists clenched at her sides. "And if the Liang perishes, what station will I have left? To sit idle while others decide our fate—is that what it means to be noble?"
Her father's expression hardened. "Enough! Go to your chamber."
She bowed stiffly and withdrew, her chest tight with anger. Her father loved her, she knew, but he was shackled by loyalty and tradition. He could not see that the world was changing, that survival demanded more than blind obedience.
That night, unable to sleep, Yue returned to the abandoned courtyard. Moonlight spilled across the cracked tiles, glinting on her wooden sword. She practiced again, each stroke sharper, her movements swifter. Old He watched silently from the shadows, pride and sorrow mingling in his eyes.
"Your father thinks to shield you," he said at last, stepping forward. "But sometimes, a shield can be a prison."
Yue lowered her blade, breathing hard. "Then I will break free."
As if answering her vow, a gust of wind swept through the courtyard, scattering petals into the night sky. Yue closed her eyes, letting the blossoms brush against her face. She felt the stir of something deep within—an ember of strength waiting to ignite.
Far away, on the war-torn border, Wei Chen stood amidst the ruins of a burned village. The bodies of soldiers and innocents alike lay scattered, the stench of smoke and blood heavy in the air. His sword dripped crimson as he wiped it clean against his tattered cloak.
He looked up at the night sky, the same moon that shone over Liang Yue, and whispered, "This war… it is not only kingdoms that will burn, but all who stand in their path."
With weary steps, he walked down the road toward Jiangdu. His journey of vengeance was drawing him ever closer to the House of Liang—closer to the fate that bound him and Yue together.
The kingdom teetered on the edge of chaos, and the blossoms beneath heaven had only just begun to stir.