The morning sun spilled into the small courtyard behind the Lu Family residence.
A young boy stood in the middle of it.
Lu Haotian was nine years old.
He was neither tall nor small for his age. His face was plain, the kind that blended easily into a crowd. Straight brows, calm dark eyes, black hair tied neatly behind his head. Nothing about him stood out at first glance.
Yet the wooden sword in his hands moved with surprising sharpness.
Slash.
Step.
Turn.
The sword cut through the air cleanly. His feet shifted smoothly, body balanced, breathing steady. Every movement connected seamlessly, flowing as if it were second nature.
This wasn't accidental.
Lu Haotian had begun body tempering at the age of six, like all children of the Lu Family. While others complained or skipped practice, he trained quietly every day. By the time he turned eight, he had already reached Body Tempering Ninth Layer, the peak achievable before spirit root testing.
Among children of the same age, this alone was enough to make him stand out.
"Young Master, slow down!" a small voice called out.
A girl about a year younger than him stood near the edge of the courtyard, holding a towel nearly as big as her arms. Her name was Mei Nian, his personal maid.
She frowned deeply, staring at his hands.
"You trained yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that," she said, counting on her fingers. "Your hands will blister again."
Lu Haotian spun the sword once and stopped, clearly pleased.
"I'm fine," he said cheerfully. "Look, I didn't even miss a step today."
He lifted the sword slightly, pride flashing briefly across his face.
Mei Nian puffed her cheeks. "You always say that. Then at night you keep tossing around because your arms hurt."
Lu Haotian laughed, the sound light and unmistakably boyish. "That's because I'm improving."
He returned to his stance.
His sword form wasn't flashy. No exaggerated movements. No unnecessary force. Just clean, efficient strikes—the kind elders liked, the kind peers found irritating.
Some of the other children had seen him train before. Some respected him. Others resented him.
After all, being stronger than others before spirit root testing was both admirable and irritating.
Today, however, mattered more than usual.
His parents will be returning today.
It had been one month since they left Hei Yan City on a clan mission. Longer than normal. Lu Haotian trained harder than usual, as if preparing to show them everything he had improved.
"Mother said she'd bring me a new sword grip," he said casually between movements.
"Father said he'd test my footwork."
Mei Nian smiled. "They'll be proud."
Lu Haotian nodded.
He believed that.
Then—
A bell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The sharp sound echoed across the Lu Family grounds.
Lu Haotian froze.
That bell was not for meals. Not for training.
It was for emergencies or basically bad news.
Footsteps rushed past the courtyard gate—guards, servants, elders moving with urgency. Whispers spread rapidly.
A quiet unease crept in.
He didn't know what had happened. But he knew this wasn't something small. After a short pause, Lu Haotian set the sword down and wiped his palms on his clothes. Then he turned, walking toward the hall.
Something felt wrong.
The main hall felt too large. Lu Haotian was summoned not long after.
A servant stopped before him and bowed stiffly. "Young Master, the elders request your presence in the main hall."
Lu Haotian stood near the front, feet barely touching the cold stone floor. Adults surrounded him, their expressions heavy and restrained.
On the table lay two jade tablets.
They were broken.
He stared at them, his mind refusing to connect the dots.
"Why… why are those cracked?" he asked quietly.
An elder sighed. "Haotian…Your parents… are gone."
For a long moment, he didn't blink.
He didn't move.
He just stood, as though waiting for someone to say it again — this time with a different ending.
"Gone to where?"
No one answered.
His heart began to pound.
"They're late," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "They're just late. They always come back."
Silence.
"You're lying!" he shouted, fists clenched. "They promised!"
Tears spilled freely now. "I want my mother! I want my father!"
The patriarch rose slowly.
"Haotian," he said firmly. "Your parents are gone."
The words crashed into him.
Lu Haotian turned and ran.
Back to the courtyard.
He collapsed to the ground, clutching the wooden sword as though it could anchor him.
Mei Nian hugged him tightly.
And deep within his small chest, something broke—and hardened at the same time.
Inside the main hall, after the child was gone, voices rose again.
"We should at least confirm it," 2nd elder said.
"Those beasts wiped the trail clean," another replied. "Sending people now risks more lives."
"The Lu Family cannot afford conflict."
"Stability comes first,"Lu Tianhao the current patriarch also added said quietly. "This matter ends here."
In the courtyard, Lu Haotian slept with tear-stained cheeks.
And somewhere deep in his small heart, a wound formed.
It might take many years to heal. But it would never be forgotten.