Chapter 3: Questioning the Heart

The carriage driver’s words were honest enough. After the caravan stopped and started for three days, the imperial road veered into a dense, layered forest.

At noon, the sunlight poured down, piercing through the interlocking branches and leaves to cast golden spots of light upon the ground. But earlier or later in the day, the light grew weak, unable to penetrate the canopy that crisscrossed above the road.

The caravan traveled through the dim environment as if moving through the night. Considering the mountain bandits active in the vicinity, the martial guards dared not let the children off the carriages to rest. With two drivers per carriage alternating shifts, they traveled for four or five days straight, not stopping until the beasts of burden were foaming at the mouth, at which point they finally entered the outer suburbs of the Royal City.

Almost the moment they emerged from the forest, the view suddenly opened up.

Zhao Chun could only sigh that it was truly worthy of being the capital of a nation. The city walls stretched for a thousand miles, like a barrier rising from the flat earth, blending into the terrain with remarkable naturalness. The main city gate reached toward the clouds, and the shadow it cast completely enveloped the caravan of nearly two thousand people.

At this moment, the city gates were wide open. Rows of soldiers in black armor stood on both sides, their expressions solemn, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Pingyang and Hedong were the two commanderies furthest from the Royal City. It was only after entering the city that Zhao Chun and the others realized they were the last to arrive.

"Since everyone has arrived, I shall return to report. This recruitment of fine children by the Lingzhen Daoist Temple can be considered a grand event for our Chu State. You all should rest for two days; once the assembly is about to begin, someone will come to deliver orders." The speaker was the man in the purple robe. Zhao Chun did not know his name, only hearing Pang Zhen address him as "Master Zhuang."

Master Zhuang was amiable, and even when conversing with the children, he was all smiles. Zhao Yue did not understand the reason, truly believing the martial arts master had a gentle temperament. But setting aside Zhao Chun and the Wang sisters, even Zhao Mian sensed that his politeness was excessive, as if he were wary of something.

Zhao Mian and Zhao Chun were puzzled, but the Wang sisters seemed to have gained more confidence in a certain notion.

Pang Zhen saw Master Zhuang out of the courtyard gate before waving his hand to have people organize the living quarters.

The Royal City was vast, and with at least tens of thousands of children being recruited, Pang Zhen and the Wang family commander had worried about where to house them. Only upon entering the city did they realize everything had already been arranged, waiting only for them to move in.

The Zhao and Wang families lived next door to each other, separated only by a courtyard wall. No sooner had they settled in than Wang Yijiao’s voice rang out at the door.

"Neither of your sisters wants to be chosen, but what about you? Do you want to go?" She was the same age as Zhao Chun and also loved to read. The two shared common interests and found it easier to talk to each other than to others.

However, the young girl would simultaneously look down on Zhao Chun’s status while feeling that Zhao Chun was well-read and knowledgeable, making their interactions always a bit awkward.

Zhao Chun finished tidying her clothes and putting them in the cabinet. Looking back, she saw Wang Yijiao already sprawled comfortably on a chair. She sighed; she was still just a little girl, after all.

"I do. I cannot practice martial arts, so entering the Daoist temple is a way out."

"That will be a bit difficult. My mother said that many people here are just going through the motions. If one can truly be chosen, there is boundless fortune to be enjoyed!" She circled her hands above her head, framing a large circle to show just how great this fortune was.

Zhao Chun pricked up her ears. The sisters had been vague along the way, but they had revealed enough for the Zhao family to know that the current Governor of Hedong Commandery had married into a noble family in the Royal City. They were an aristocratic family rooted beneath the feet of the Son of Heaven; they might truly know some secrets.

"What fortune could be greater than practicing martial arts and entering the third stage? My older and younger brothers are all hoping to fail so they can go back and catch up on the lessons they’ve missed."

Wang Yijiao let out a "che" and casually grabbed a bunch of grapes from the table to eat. "It’s not the same. My mother also said—" Her voice dropped suddenly, and she leaned forward. Zhao Chun understood her intent and leaned her ear toward her mouth. The next moment, she felt as if a thunderclap had exploded beside her

"Those who are chosen can cultivate the Dao and become immortals."

When she was four, Zhao Chun heard someone say that an older brother had achieved success in martial arts and could toss a thousand-pound cauldron for fun. She had laughed at the ancients for exaggerating, thinking it nonsense. Later, when she saw Instructor Zheng twist a bronze vase into a spiral shape with his bare hands at the training grounds, she realized what it meant to be ignorant.

Now, at ten, someone told her there was a way to achieve immortality. She felt it was absurd, yet she couldn't help but believe it a little. What she found strange herself was that she did not yearn for immortality as much as she had imagined.

"How can this be taken seriously? Even the Grandmasters of martial arts have never been heard to ascend to immortality."

"Believe it or not, my brother was brought to the Royal City last year to stay by the Temple Master’s side. They even complained that he was too old."

"Actually, he is only fifteen. By the time he left, he was almost at the third stage of martial arts. He might have surpassed Father in the future, but the family still let him go."

Hearing this, Zhao Chun already believed it seven or eight parts, though she didn't show it on her face. She smiled, "Then there must be a better path ahead."

Wang Yijiao lowered her eyes, not looking very happy. "Whether it's good or not, it's his path. What does it have to do with me?"

"Is he not good to you?"

"It's not that he's not good. It's just... it's just that it feels like something is missing." She rested her chin on the table, the flesh on her cheeks trembling slightly as she spoke. The sunset outside the window spilled into the small room, staining her with the desolation of the setting sun.

Zhao Chun was the worst at comforting people; she had a few sentences stuck in her throat, unable to spit them out.

"Zhao Chun."

"Hmm?"

She saw Wang Yijiao tilt her cheek to press against the smooth tabletop and ask, "Do you think my sister and I have a good relationship?"

Zhao Chun sat down beside her and said softly, "Compared to my family, you two are already very good."

Biological sisters, having grown up together since childhood—it was far closer than the relationship she had with the Zhao family, where she couldn't even match names to faces.

In her past life, Zhao Chun was an only child. She didn't know how to get along with siblings, and even after coming here, she remained very distant from the rest of the Zhao family. She missed her parents, but she found their faces gradually fading and distorting. And this had only been ten years.

One day, the things from her past life would be stripped from her mind and reorganized into another "Zhao Chun," no longer her.

Zhao Chun’s vision suddenly cleared. The barrier that had shrouded her since birth suddenly dissipated. Nothing changed, but she truly felt that her existence was more real.

The two didn't speak again, and the twilight grew quietly in the room.

After Wang Yijiao left, citing the late hour, Zhao Chun was left sitting alone in a daze.

The evening breeze shook the leaves outside the room, and Zhao Chun shuddered, waking up. She vaguely understood some things: she had been deliberately avoiding this world, treating the ten years she had lived as nothing more than a long dream.

Whether it was practicing martial arts or seeking the Dao, the reason she always wanted to live securely was that she wanted to return to her original world. So, she deliberately kept her distance from others, not letting anything become a potential attachment.

It was she herself who prevented her from fully integrating into this world. When the inner barrier was broken, she truly began to live as Zhao Chun.

Lying on the bed, Zhao Chun felt an unprecedented calm. Yet beneath the calm, an unknown panic surged faintly.

There was nowhere to hide from the truth; she had to face this bizarre world head-on. If the path ahead deviated from its predetermined track, all she had to do was step onto it.

Perhaps this could also be considered a form of heroism, she thought.

Most of the recruited children were still young. Even with the Royal City’s strict security, the managers dared not let them go out at will.

Zhao Chun stayed in her room for two days. When she felt truly stifled, she would run into the courtyard to practice a few sets of punches to stretch her body. Pang Zhen watched from the sidelines, feeling surprised, but seeing her punches were weak and her stance unstable, he concluded she was not a martial artist. He shook his head, assuming she was just doing it to strengthen her body.

It was just past the fifth watch on the third day when someone came to deliver orders.

They called it an assembly, but the Lingzhen Daoist Temple had given it the elegant name "Longevity Banquet," setting up a venue in the Royal City that could accommodate nearly one hundred thousand people.

Zhao Chun followed the procession into the venue. Twenty children sat at each large banquet table, and even after everyone was seated, it did not feel crowded.

Looking down from the high platform, a sea of heads swayed left and right, and the noise was deafening.

Zhao Chun’s ears were nearly numb, and just as she was feeling miserable, a loud, majestic voice rang out from the high platform

"Silence!"

The clamor was cut off almost instantly. The children turned their eyes toward the source, not knowing what had happened.

The people of the Royal City remained indifferent, but the visiting martial artists turned pale with shock. One had to realize that this was a grand spectacle with tens of thousands of people, and the high platform was nearly two miles away from the crowd. To project sound across such a distance using only human power could almost be called a divine feat.

It has begun, Zhao Chun thought to herself. This world, which revered martial artists, was about to be turned upside down.