The sun dipped low behind the palace walls as Xiao Liwei returned from his afternoon lessons. The evening air stung against his bare arms as he struck forward, fists hammering against the wooden post in his courtyard.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Each blow carried years of frustration—of whispered insults, cruel glances, and loneliness. Dust rose at his feet with each movement, yet he trained harder, faster, his breath ragged and arms burning.
"They look at me like filth," he muttered, eyes narrowed. "Just because my mother was a maid… Was it my fault to be born of her?"
His voice cracked, not from exhaustion, but from the weight pressing on his chest each day within the palace.
"One day… one day, I'll make them all bow. I'll rise so high they'll forget the dirt they threw at me."
A slow clap echoed through the courtyard.
From behind the columns stepped the Fourth Prince, Xiao Qiu, dressed in silk-embroidered robes, a smug smile curling on his lips.
"Well said… son of a maid."
Liwei froze.
"You think you'll rise above us?" Qiu taunted, circling him like a predator. "Look at you—clinging to worthless dreams. Born of a servant, you should've stayed one."
Liwei's jaw clenched. "Don't test me, Qiu."
"Oh, I will." Qiu stepped closer, voice dripping with venom. "Your mother scrubbed floors and warmed beds. That's all she was good for. And you? You're just her curse walking around."
Something in Liwei snapped.
He shoved Qiu hard. The older prince stumbled, tripped on a stone, and crashed to the ground with a sharp cry. His arm scraped against the tip of a training spear—blood spilled.
"You dare touch me?!" Qiu wailed, fury blazing in his eyes. "You'll pay! I swear it!"
He stormed off, shouting through the palace halls. Within the hour, the Noble Consort—Qiu's mother—dragged her bleeding son before the emperor.
By dusk, a decree was delivered:
"For raising a hand against your brother and misusing the martial arts granted by the royal court, you are to receive ten lashes and be sent to the northern military camp. Since you choose to be a fighter… you may go be one."
The flogging came swiftly. Blood ran down Liwei's back like bitter rain. The servants turned their faces—not in pity, but fear. The boy endured each strike without a sound.
And then… he was exiled.
The gates of the capital creaked open as Xiao Liwei rode out, body stiff with pain. Beside him rode General Wei Han, a battle-hardened man known for his discipline and rare kindness.
"You'll be fine," the general said gruffly. "Out there, your bloodline matters less than your blade."
They had barely cleared the outskirts when Liwei's gaze caught smoke curling in the distance.
"Do you hear that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Faintly, like a whisper—came a girl's voice. A cry for help.
Hours earlier…
Inside the Zheng estate, laughter danced through the air. Zheng Liang had returned from his journey, and his young daughter, Lianfu, leapt into his arms.
"My little Lianfu," he chuckled, lifting her high. "Have you been good?"
"I missed you," she beamed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Dinner was filled with joy, but behind Zheng Liang's calm exterior, worry gnawed at his mind. His eyes often lingered on Jun'er, his son—afraid the boy might speak of what he had overheard days ago: the masked man, the meeting on the ship, the jade pendant.
Later that night, his wife approached him.
"Something's wrong," she said. "I see it in your eyes."
"No," he lied, voice low. "But I want you and the children to leave for the countryside. Tomorrow."
She frowned, heart tightening with dread. She asked again and again, but he gave no answers—only insisted they must leave before sunrise. She saw it in his face: fear.
Still, she nodded.
In the courtyard, Lianfu and her maid, Meimei, played a game—princess and servant. They laughed and switched roles. Lianfu wore the plain robes of a maid, while Meimei, dressed in pink silks and ornate hairpins, sat regally on the bed.
"Pour me some tea!" Meimei barked, mimicking a haughty princess.
Lianfu rushed to obey, both girls giggling.
"You dropped the royal hairpin, servant!" Meimei teased.
"Oh no! Forgive me, Your Highness!" Lianfu laughed and darted away, slipping into the closet to hide.
"Shhh! She'll punish me!" she whispered.
The closet was warm and dark. Somewhere between laughter and play, she fell asleep.
It happened fast.
A guard's scream. The clang of metal. Silence.
Then—footsteps.
Lianfu jolted awake. Her breath caught in her throat.
Peeking through the slits in the closet door, she saw shadows moving through her room. Meimei still lay on the bed—in her clothes.
Then came the scream.
A masked man entered with soldiers. Her mother and father were dragged into the hall. Jun'er tried to fight, but was knocked down. Meimei, mistaken for Lianfu, was dragged away.
"No—please! Leave them!" her mother cried.
The masked man stepped forward. "Zheng Liang. What did you see on that ship?"
"I saw nothing," Liang said. "Nothing at all."
From his robes, the man flung out the jade pendant—Zheng Liang's. "This says otherwise."
"I didn't hear anything. I was just passing by."
"Kill the boy. Maybe that'll jog his memory," the man said coldly.
"No!" his wife screamed, shielding their son.
Steel flashed. Blood followed.
"Tell us what you saw," the masked man asked again.
"I… I don't know anything."
The man sneered. "No use asking. No one keeps secrets better than the dead. Don't worry—I'll send your whole family with you for company."
He gestured.
A soldier stabbed Meimei—thinking she was Lianfu.
Lianfu covered her mouth to silence her scream. Through the narrow slits, she saw her mother—bleeding, eyes wide—mouth the words:
Don't come out. Stay hidden.
Then her body fell.
Lianfu obeyed, trembling as tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
The masked man walked to Zheng Liang and tortured him slowly. When the elder Zheng finally lay in pieces, the masked man laughed and wiped his blade on the corpse.
"Burn it all. Make it look like bandits. Kill all the servants. Make sure there are no survivors. Loot the family riches before setting it ablaze."
As he turned to leave, a red thread from his cloak caught on the closet's edge.
Lianfu reached out with shaking fingers and plucked it free.
Her only clue.
And then… she stayed frozen.
Outside the burning estate, Xiao Liwei dismounted.
"General," he called, "someone's alive."
A faint voice—cracked and desperate—echoed through the smoke.
The general kicked down the scorched gate. Through ash and flame, they found her—Zheng Lianfu, trembling, clutching a single red thread.
"Please…" she whispered. "Don't leave me."
Then she collapsed.
Liwei knelt beside her, all his pain forgotten.
"She's coming with us," he said firmly.
General Wei looked at him in surprise. "First time you've ever asked for something," he muttered. "Then yes… she comes with us."
He lifted the girl into his arms.
They rode away, leaving no trace of survivors behind.
From the ruins of blood and ash, two forgotten children rode into the unknown—one marked by punishment, the other by loss.
But in that silent bond, something new was born…
A shared flame that would one day burn brighter than any throne .