A Song For The Ages

In the days following their victory, the Red Lotus Mercenaries began consolidating their gains.

The fractured coalition of city-states, once a loose alliance of territorial powers, had collapsed like wet parchment under the weight of defeat. Their garrisons either surrendered or scattered into the mountains. Hu Zhao wasted no time in seizing control of their holdings, deploying troops to claim their wealth, borders, and vassals.

From atop their skyships, the Red Lotus Mercenaries observed the shifting tides of power with the quiet detachment of wolves who had already eaten. They had spilled blood, shattered walls, and claimed victory, and now, it was time to enjoy the spoils.

Within the fortified walls of Hu Zhao's capital, crates of war loot were stacked high in temporary storerooms; weapons, armor, scrolls, raw ores, cultivation tools, and even spiritual beast parts gathered from the battlefield. Disciples wandered the merchant district and noble quarters alike, some bartering, some boasting, others simply enjoying the temporary lull.

Feiyin remained busy.

Between refining pills for recovery and stabilizing pills for cultivation, he maintained his carefully nurtured role, gentle, reliable, quietly exceptional. He handed out remedies for bruised meridians, soothed spiritual backlash with tonics, and repaired cracked bones with meticulous care.

But beneath his practiced calm, his mind turned endlessly.

The opportunity to enact his revenge would come. Soon. He could feel it.

It arrived in the form of an argument.

Ba Shanyue stormed into Hu Zhao's command hall one morning, dragging behind him a heavy chunk of glowing stone marked with ancient script.

"This was found beneath the northeast excavation line of the mine," he growled. "Your men were trying to cover it with sand."

Hu Zhao's smile thinned. "A miscommunication. They were just stabilizing the area."

"A miscommunication that involved four sealed formation plates and a team of silent cultivators?" Jue Qingling's voice was sharp, her golden hair gleaming under the lantern light. "You knew about this ruin, and you didn't tell us."

Ruan Lianhua was silently standing next to her, her crimson eyes cold as she nodded.

"We fought that war," Ba Shanyue added coolly. "Everything within that battlefield belongs to both of us."

Feng Liu leaned lazily against a pillar, toying with a wine cup. "Unless you're saying you planned to rob us?"

Tension spiked. As a Yin-Refining phase cultivator, Hu Zhao was pretty confident in his own strength, yet he had seen the prowess of the four in front of him, and it could put him in quite a bind.

He sighed and raised both hands. "Enough. You've made your point. I admit, I ordered my men to delay the news until the city was secured. I had no intention of denying you access. But such ruins... they are dangerous."

Ruins, especially those left behind by ancient sects, dynasties, or vanished cultivator clans, were not just historical sites, they were tests. Many were sealed spaces or fragmented pocket dimensions, left behind with trials meant to judge the fate, willpower, or talent of those who entered. Some rewarded great fortune, artifacts, or inheritance legacies. Others offered only death.

"All the more reason to go together," Ba Shanyue said.

"Fine," Hu Zhao grunted. "One week from now, so that we can recover properly. I'll give your people full access. Prepare as you need."

The discussion ended with curt nods, and the Red Lotus disciples departed.

Feiyin remained silent after learning about the exchange, but a slow fire sparked behind his calm eyes. A ruin, ancient, isolated, rich with traps and excuses. It was the perfect place.

His plans stirred.

That night, back on the skyship, he continued distributing cultivation boosters and refining restorative pills for the mission ahead. Laughter filled the halls. Spirits were high. But beneath it all, he moved with quiet calculation.

"Feiyin, thanks again," one of the beast tamers said, clutching a fresh tonic.

"You've been keeping us together," another formation disciple added with a grin.

Feiyin just smiled. "Stay healthy. We'll all need our strength soon."

But his heart wasn't settled.

Stolen story; please report.

Later, restless, he left the skyship and walked through the city alone.

He passed the bustling streets, the lively inns, the training squares lit by elegant lanterns. But something pulled him farther, past the shimmer, past the wealth, until the road turned to cracked stone and the houses to crumbling walls.

The slums of Hu Zhao's capital.

They reeked of damp earth, smoke, and desperation. Shivering men huddled in corners, covered in soot, while some women bartered their bodies for scraps.

Feiyin stepped carefully, his robes drawing unwanted glances. His presence was alien here.

Then, a tug at his waist.

His hand shot out, catching a bony wrist.

The boy froze. Ragged dark hair, thin frame, maybe ten at most. Damaged clothes. Wild eyes. Behind him, the alley stretched deep into the shadows.

Feiyin met his gaze. "You picked the wrong pocket."

The boy trembled but didn't beg.

"What's your name?" Feiyin asked gently.

"…Jin."

Feiyin crouched slightly, lowering his voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. But I imagine you're hungry, aren't you?"

Jin didn't answer, but his eyes flicked toward Feiyin's storage pouch. Calculating. Distrustful.

"I've got food," Feiyin said, patting the pouch. "Good food. Enough to share. You don't have to steal it."

Jin's lips curled slightly, skeptical. "You one of those nobles? You say you're helping, but you just want something."

Feiyin smiled faintly. "Maybe I do. I want to know who's still surviving in this part of the city. And if they need help. That's all."

The boy stared at him for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he turned. "Follow me. But if you're lying, I'm not the only one who bites."

Feiyin chuckled softly, already stepping in behind him. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

The alley twisted and narrowed until it opened into a forgotten courtyard. There, in the shelter of a collapsed shrine, a dozen small faces looked up.

Children, boys, girls, toddlers. Sick, bruised, starving. One coughed wetly in the corner. Another huddled over a sibling, shielding them from the wind.

In the dim light, a lanky boy with tangled hair and sunken cheeks struggled to weave straw into something resembling a hat, his fingers trembling with exhaustion, while a pile of finished products lay next to him.

An older girl sat in the back, her sleeves rolled to her elbows as she gently rocked two toddlers in her lap, humming something broken and tuneless to soothe them.

Feiyin stood frozen for a moment.

Then he knelt.

"Hey there, Jin asked me to bring you all something."

He reached into his storage bag and pulled out wrapped food packs that he kept for himself and Baiyu. Rice, roasted meat, dried fruits, and warm steamed buns, the scent alone seemed to still the wind.

The children stared at the food, too stunned to move.

Then the first step came. A small boy stumbled forward, hesitated, then reached out with shaking hands. The moment he touched the food, the rest surged forward, not in chaos, but desperation. Hands snatched, tears welled.

Some of them cried as they ate, cheeks bulging, tears falling onto half-chewed buns. A girl no older than six clutched a piece of dried fruit to her chest like a treasure before nibbling on it, sobbing with a smile between bites. The boy weaving the hat dropped it, burying his face in a bun as though inhaling its warmth could keep him alive.

Feiyin let them eat, watching silently. The knot in his chest pulled tighter with every tear-streaked face, every muffled sob of relief and hunger. His parents were always there for him, full of love and shielding him from the harshness of the world.

To lose them only to immediately be cast aside to survive alone in such a city, he could only imagine how hard it must have been.

As he reached into his pouch again, a gentle tug came at his sleeve. He looked down to see a tiny girl, no older than seven, with tangled hair and wide eyes. She clutched a half-eaten bun with both hands, crumbs on her cheeks.

She bowed her head slightly, voice trembling. "Thank you, big brother… I never tasted meat before. It's so delicious!"

Feiyin's breath caught. He crouched beside her, resting a gentle hand on her head. "Then I'll bring you some more tomorrow. I promise."

She smiled widely, "Mm!"

Next, he pulled out a case of diluted vitality pills, safe for non-cultivators. "One each," he said. "It'll help you recover."

As they ate, he asked questions. Jin answered between bites.

"All of our parents died… some in the last few wars, others from sickness, or hunger. No one comes here. The rich parts of the city pretend we don't exist."

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "The city only cares about fighting wars, building walls and training soldiers. They don't have time, or interest, for people like us. We're not strong. We're not useful. So we're invisible."

He glanced toward the other children. "The few shelters are already full with the families of soldiers. Some won't take more. Others said we'd be better off finding our own way."

Feiyin's jaw tightened. He looked around the crumbling courtyard, walls eroded by time, no warmth, no light, only the thin breath of survival. And yet, these children had stayed together.

"These are your friends?" he asked quietly.

Jin shook his head. "They're my family now. We all lost someone. But we're still here. So we take care of each other."

Feiyin looked at each of them, hopeful, tired, still children. A few were already dozing after eating, others clutching the last bits of bread like treasures. The older girl, still holding the toddlers, gave him a small, exhausted nod of thanks. Even in their weariness, they looked to one another for warmth, for safety, for comfort the world had denied them.

"You're not helpless," he said softly. "Your bodies are weak, but your spirit isn't."

He stood.

"Tomorrow, I'll bring food again. And I'll show you how to breathe properly. How to train your body, little by little. You may not become cultivators, but you can become stronger."

Their eyes widened. No one had ever said such things to them.

Feiyin smiled, a gentle warmth behind his tired eyes.

"If the city has forgotten you… then let's make it regret that mistake."