Night fell quietly over the Li Clan.
By the time Li Chen entered the dining hall, the lanterns had already been lit. Warm light spilled across polished tables and carved pillars, making everything look calmer than it felt.
He took his seat near the end.
As usual.
His siblings were already eating.
His father sat at the head of the table, posture straight, presence steady. His mother sat beside him, hands folded neatly, expression gentle but distant.
Li Chen lowered his head and ate.
No one spoke to him.
Halfway through the meal, his father set down his chopsticks.
"Li Chen."
The hall grew quiet.
Li Chen paused, then stood and bowed. "Yes, Father."
His father looked at him for a long moment.
Not cold.
Not angry.
Tired.
"You are seven years old now," his father said evenly. "And you have not yet begun cultivating."
Li Chen listened.
"I have watched you," his father continued. "You are not lazy. But this place… is not suited for you."
The words were calm.
Carefully chosen.
"This clan values strength above all else," his father said. "Remaining here will only bring you pressure you are not ready to bear."
Li Chen's fingers curled slightly at his sides.
His father's voice softened—just a little.
"It is better for you to leave the main estate after tonight."
Li Chen waited.
No one interrupted.
His mother did not speak.
His second elder sister, Li Yuanyin, sat quietly, eyes lowered, as if focusing very hard on her bowl.
Li Chen glanced at her.
She did not look up.
"Leaving does not mean abandonment," his father said. "It means distance. Time."
Li Chen nodded slowly.
"I understand," he said.
His voice sounded small in the vast hall.
His father studied him for a moment longer, then gave a slight nod. "You may finish your meal."
Li Chen bowed and sat back down.
The food tasted bland.
When the meal ended, he stood, bowed once more, and turned to leave.
No one stopped him.
No one called his name.
Behind him, the Li Clan continued as it always had.
Ahead—
Only silence.
Night wrapped the Li Clan in silence.
Li Chen walked.
No bag.No destination.No pause.
The stone paths stretched ahead, lanterns flickering softly along the corridors. His footsteps were light, almost soundless, swallowed by the vastness of the estate.
He did not look back.
He did not think about where he would sleep.Or what he would eat.Or what would happen tomorrow.
His mind was quiet.
Too quiet for a seven-year-old.
Servants passed him in the distance. None stopped him. A child walking alone at night did not register as strange in the Li Clan.
He kept walking.
Courtyard after courtyard slipped past. Familiar paths turned unfamiliar. The air grew cooler, the lanterns fewer.
Time passed.
Li Chen did not know how long he walked.
Eventually, the towering front gate came into view.
Massive wooden doors reinforced with iron bands. Two guards stood watch, spears resting lightly against the stone.
They looked down as the small figure approached.
Li Chen stopped in front of them.
"Open the gate," he said.
His voice was calm.
One of the guards frowned. "Young Master? It's late."
Li Chen looked up at him.
No anger.No fear.No pleading.
"I am leaving," he said.
The guards exchanged glances.
Neither asked why.
After a brief hesitation, one of them stepped forward and pulled the mechanism. The gate groaned as it slowly opened, cold night air spilling in.
Li Chen walked through.
The gate closed behind him with a dull, final sound.
At the same time, deep within the estate—
Li Yuanyin pushed open the door to Li Chen's room.
"Chen'er," she called softly.
No answer.
His bed was untouched.
Her heart skipped.
She turned and ran.
Li Chen's mother followed, her steps hurried, breath uneven. She looked around the empty room, then at the open window, the neatly folded blanket.
Too neat.
They searched.
Corridors.Courtyards.Training grounds.
Nothing.
By the time they realized—
The front gate was already closed.
And Li Chen was gone.
The forest swallowed sound.
Li Chen didn't know when the stone road ended.
One step, it was still beneath his feet.The next, damp soil pressed up through the thin soles of his shoes.
Trees closed in around him, their branches weaving together overhead, blocking out what little moonlight remained. The air smelled different here—wet earth, old leaves, something faintly bitter.
He kept walking.
Not because he had a plan.
Because stopping felt pointless.
Cold crept in slowly. First his fingers, then his arms, then the space beneath his ribs. He hugged himself lightly and leaned against a tree, sliding down until he was sitting on the ground.
His legs ached.
His stomach felt hollow.
The forest made noises—small ones.
Leaves rustling.Something skittering away.A distant, low sound that might have been wind.
Li Chen closed his eyes.
He didn't cry.
He didn't think about home.
He simply waited.
Time passed.
He wasn't sure how long.
Eventually, he stood again and walked deeper, guided by nothing more than the faint slope of the land.
That was when the trees changed.
The trunks grew thicker. Darker. Moss clung to them in uneven patches, and the ground dipped subtly downward. The air felt heavier here, pressing faintly against his chest.
Li Chen slowed.
Ahead, half-buried beneath vines and fallen leaves, stood a weathered stone marker.
Cracked.Old.Unreadable—except for one faint carving near its base.
A warning.
Beyond it, the forest was unnaturally still.
No insects.No wind.No sound at all.
Unseen to Li Chen—
This stretch of land lay just beyond the outer patrol routes.
A place servants did not enter.A place children were never allowed.
The forbidden edge of the Li Clan's territory.
Li Chen stepped past the marker.
And the forest noticed.
The forest grew colder.
Not suddenly—but enough for Li Chen to notice.
The ground beneath his feet dipped unevenly, roots rising like traps in the dark. More than once, he nearly stumbled. Each time, he steadied himself with a hand against a tree, breathing quietly.
Something moved nearby.
He froze.
A soft crunch of leaves.Too heavy for wind.Too slow for insects.
Li Chen didn't know what it was.
He only knew not to run.
Running made noise.
He backed away slowly, step by careful step, until his heel struck stone.
Solid.
He turned.
A narrow裂 opening split the rock face behind him, half-hidden by vines and shadow. It wasn't large—barely wide enough for a child to squeeze through.
The sound came again.
Closer.
Li Chen didn't think.
He slipped inside.
The darkness swallowed him instantly. Cool stone pressed against his palms and knees as he crawled forward, heart pounding, breath held tight in his chest.
After a few steps, the sound outside faded.
Silence returned.
Li Chen stopped and leaned against the cave wall, chest heaving quietly.
Safe.
For now.
The cave was shallow but dry. The stone beneath him was smooth in places, worn down as if something had once flowed here long ago. Faint cracks ran along the walls, tracing patterns that felt… deliberate.
Li Chen sat down.
Exhaustion finally caught up to him.
His eyes drifted upward.
And froze.
High above, carved into the stone ceiling, were faint lines.
Not natural.
Symbols.
Broken. Incomplete. Almost erased by time.
His head began to ache.
A strange pressure stirred in his chest—not pain, not fear—just a deep, inexplicable heaviness.
He didn't know why.
He didn't know how.
But sitting there, in the cold, silent cave—
Li Chen felt something watching him.
Not from outside.
From the stone itself.
Unseen to him—
This cave lay at the very heart of the forbidden forest.
A place untouched since the heavens had turned away.
A place where, long ago—
Li Chen had died.