Chapter 1 – The Servant Child
The Chu mansion was filled with laughter that morning.
Inside the training yard, Chu Feng—the only legitimate son of General Chu—was swinging a wooden sword under the watchful eyes of his father. Every move was praised, every mistake corrected with patience and care.
"Good! Again, Feng'er. Remember, your blade is your honor. One day, you will carry the Chu banner into battle," the General said proudly.
Servants lined the edges of the yard, watching the scene with envy. Among them stood a thin boy with calm eyes and ragged clothes. His name was Lian.
He carried a basin of water, waiting for the moment Feng would need to wash his hands. His arms ached, but he stood straight, silent like a shadow.
No one looked at him.
No one praised him.
To them, he was invisible—less than a servant, more like dirt beneath their feet.
Yet, Lian's eyes never left the wooden sword in Feng's hand. Every stance, every step, every strike—he memorized them all in silence.
"Father, am I strong enough now?" Feng asked, panting but smiling proudly.
General Chu placed a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. "You are my heir. One day, all of this will be yours—the mansion, the soldiers, the name of Chu. Train hard, and you will surpass even me."
Lian's heart clenched.
Heir… son… family.
Words that would never belong to him.
For he, too, was the son of General Chu—born of a servant, hidden in shame. To the world, he was nothing but a slave. His existence was a stain the Chu family would never admit.
"Lian!" A servant woman's sharp voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "What are you staring at? Hurry and bring the towel for Young Master Feng!"
"Yes," Lian lowered his head quickly and stepped forward.
He offered the towel with both hands, kneeling as etiquette demanded. Feng barely glanced at him, snatching it away like one would from a dog.
The surrounding servants chuckled quietly. Some even smirked, whispering behind his back.
Lian said nothing. His face remained calm, his eyes lowered. He had learned long ago—any word, any look, any sign of defiance would bring punishment.
But deep inside, a fire burned.
A fire no one could see.
That night, while the mansion slept, Lian sat in his tiny servant's room. The moonlight slipped through the cracks of the window, illuminating scraps of old paper hidden beneath a loose stone in the floor.
On those scraps, shaky characters were written—stolen knowledge he had copied in secret. Reading and writing, arts forbidden to servants.
He traced the words with his finger, lips moving soundlessly as he repeated them over and over.
Knowledge was power. And power… was freedom.
He remembered the sight of his father, standing tall like an unshakable mountain. Once, the General had been nothing but a soldier. Through martial arts, he had risen to the rank of nobility, commanding thousands.
If a soldier could rise to a general… then why can't a servant rise above chains?
Lian clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palm until blood appeared, but he didn't care.
"I will not remain a slave," he whispered to the night.
"I will carve my own path… even if I must steal it."
And in the silence of the Chu mansion, the fire in his heart burned brighter than ever.
✨ End of Chapter 1 ✨