An eight-year-old kid emptied his scumbag father's warehouse and followed his grandparents into

After a tiring journey, the sun was setting when they settled down at Qiuyi Village.

Jing Chunxi stood in front of the carved window, looking at the distant mountain shadows dyed golden red by the sunset, and couldn't help but take a deep breath of the air with the fragrance of grass and trees.

The kitchen sent over some seasonal side dishes, including the crispy and tender stir-fried bamboo shoots and the delicious stewed chicken with mushrooms, which swept away her fatigue from days of traveling.

After dinner, she went to bed early, listening to the occasional chirping of insects outside the window, and soon fell asleep.

She slept exceptionally soundly that night, without even a dream. When she opened her eyes again, a faint light was filtering through the window paper.

It was the hour of the morning, the hour at Qingshan Villa where she was supposed to jog ten laps along the path that wound around the manor. Thinking of this, she sat up with a sudden somersault, startling Qiyue, who was on guard duty, and came in from outside.

"Miss, you woke up really early today." July came in with a copper basin, its warm vapor swirling in the cool morning air. She expertly wrung out her handkerchief and suddenly lowered her voice, "Someone came to the farm again last night, and it seems someone is practicing martial arts in the back garden now."

As Qiyue was combing her hair, Jing Chunxi's ears twitched. Amidst the rustling sound of the ebony comb through her hair, she could faintly hear shouts of "Hey ha!" and occasionally the rustling of clothes.

In the bronze mirror, her eyes suddenly lit up: "Let's go take a look." Before she finished speaking, she stood up impatiently with her hair just tied up. Qiyue hurriedly grabbed a lilac cloak and chased after her: "Miss, the dew is heavy in the morning..."

The house they lived in now was much larger than the one at Qingshan Villa, and the corridor even had two turns. Passing by a cluster of roses in full bloom, Jing Chunxi suddenly grabbed Qiyue and said, "Isn't this the wrong direction?" She pointed to the moon-shaped gate on the left, "The front yard should go that way."

Qiyue pointed to a small path shaded by bamboo trees on the right. "Ah Qi specifically told me last night that the gravel road around the village is being renovated. If you want to do some morning exercise, why not go up the mountain from the back?" She pulled out a burlap map with several winding routes marked with charcoal. "This is the new hiking trail in the village."

Ah Qi is really something. It’s just a farm, but he even used a map. He might as well send someone to guard it and lead the way for them.

The two walked up the mossy stone steps and out the back door.

The backyard was actually directly connected to the forest. The mist in the forest brushed across my cheeks like a veil, and the shouts became clearer and clearer. After turning around a patch of Podocarpus, the view in front of me suddenly opened up - on the flat martial arts training ground, two figures were fighting in a fierce battle.

The morning light gilded their silhouettes, their robes fluttering like dancing cranes as they moved. Two figures stood under a nearby elm tree, watching the fight. One was clearly Xu Zize, the other tall and large, not like Ah Qi.

Just as Jing Chunxi was about to speak, he heard a laughing discussion coming from under the tree: "Grandpa Wang's 'Green Dragon Claw' move is brilliant!"

"That's right. If he were ten years younger, I'm afraid the third brother wouldn't be able to handle this move."

Jing Chunxi suddenly covered his mouth. "Grandpa Wang? Prince Jing actually came to Qiuyi Manor?" His heart suddenly began to pound. Last night when we broke up, he had clearly said he would go to the palace to cause a few more disturbances and make the damn emperor restless. Why did he suddenly appear in this manor dozens of miles away?

While she was daydreaming, Xu Zize noticed her arrival and turned around at the same time as the person next to him. Jing Chunxi covered her mouth and said, "Prince Hong."

Prince Hong also looked at Jing Chunxi and smiled, saying, "We meet again."

Xu Zize's eyes were filled with tenderness: "Xi'er, why don't you sleep a little longer?"

"Aren't you up early too?" Jing Chunxi casually replied, her gaze glued to the other man fighting the prince. The morning light just happened to pass over his brow, illuminating those familiar phoenix eyes. She cried out, "Master!" the last syllable changing in pitch.

The two men in the arena stopped fighting after hearing this. Jing Yi sheathed his sword with a beautiful sword flower and saluted the other side with a fist. When they turned around, Jing Chunxi saw that the person fighting with his master was indeed Prince Jing.

Though the old man's temples were frosted with white, his body stood straight as a pine tree, the lines of muscle faintly visible beneath his dark suit. She hurriedly pulled Qiyue to greet him, "Greetings, Grandpa Jing! Hello, Master... Hello, Master!" She nearly bit her tongue as she uttered the last two words.

The name she used to call him now burned her lips. She suddenly realized that the master who had taught her swordsmanship, protected her mother and brother, and even helped her with household chores, was actually the third son of the royal family, who had lived among the common people for over twenty years.

She stole a glance at her master's expression, only to find that he still had that half-smile on his face, and even his teasing tone was the same as usual: "What's wrong? Are you stupid?"

"You, Master, have you recognized me?" She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. She spoke haltingly, as if her mouth was full of walnuts. Her mind flashed back to her younger brother, smiling and chasing after Master, calling out "Brother Jing." She wondered what he would think if he knew the true identity of this "Brother Jing."

Thinking of the palace's vermilion gate, her heart suddenly felt like a turmoil. She added, for some unknown reason, "Are you... not going to teach me anymore?" She felt like biting her tongue off. It was such a joyous occasion for her master to have found his loved one, so what kind of nonsense was she asking? Shouldn't she be happy for him?

Jing Yi suddenly reached out and flicked her forehead, not too hard or too light, just like he used to do when checking her moves: "Master is a deserter now."

He blinked, and the corners of his lips curled up in a familiar arc, "You can't go anywhere except Zhuangzi." He said it lightly, but it made Jing Chunxi's eyes warm. Master will not leave soon.

She subconsciously glanced at Prince Jing's expression, wanting to see if he would be disappointed. Instead, she saw the old man wiping his hands with a hand towel, his eyes as gentle as an early spring stream, and smiling at the two of them, not looking shocked or dissatisfied.

"I will write two letters tonight," Prince Jing suddenly said, his voice as deep as a bell. "One to the old general, and one to General Changjiang."

He took the outer robe from Prince Hong and put it on, saying solemnly, "Please prepare some small gifts to thank them. Please ask Xi Ya to pass them on to you when you go to Lingnan."

Jing Chunxi was stunned.

The prince's polite tone startled her, and she unconsciously tightened her cloak straps. It took her a while to find her voice again: "Prince Jing, you are so polite! I will definitely deliver the letter, little girl. But the gift is really..." She looked anxiously at her master for help, but he stood with his arms folded, looking like he was enjoying a show.

"If it weren't for my uncle who came to my rescue, others would have helped me, and Master is very good..." She was quick-witted and brought up the past, but got stuck in the middle of her words.

In reality, she was saying that when her uncle had saved her amnesiac master, hadn't he gained a loyal and powerful warrior? And now, her master was guarding Qingshan Villa, teaching her martial arts, and mentoring her younger brother; he had long been an indispensable member of the family.

How can a few gifts measure the depth of this friendship? If I were to express gratitude, I would have to thank Master.

The morning breeze swept through the treetops, dropping a few elm seeds. Jing Chunxi looked at his master's profile, illuminated by the sunlight just breaking through the clouds, and suddenly felt that some fates were like vines in the mountains, seemingly slender, but in fact they had long been entangled into the most resilient knots over the years.

"Let's go. They are practicing right now, so it's best to pick some people." Jing Yi waved at Jing Chunxi, and the morning light danced on his shoulders through the gaps between the leaves.

When he turned to look at Prince Jing, a hint of hesitation flashed between his brows: "If father feels tired..." Before he finished speaking, he was interrupted by Prince Jing's loud voice.

"Not tired! I'll go up with you." Prince Jing waved his hand, his dark sleeves whipping up a gust of wind. He deliberately kept a straight face, but a smile formed in the corners of his eyes. "What? Do you think my legs aren't very flexible?" As he spoke, he lifted the hem of his clothes and pretended to do a somersault.

Prince Hong was so frightened that he quickly held his father's shoulders, and Jing Yi shook his head helplessly and laughed.

Jing Yi wanted to tell his father to go back to the farm and rest, and then have breakfast together after they had chosen the people. But when his brother nodded slightly, he changed his mind and said, "Let's go, the mountain isn't too high."

He reached out to brush aside the willow branches that hung before his eyes, revealing an old scar on his wrist—a wound he'd received on the battlefield. Thinking back on it now, these tiny scars had become a mark connecting the past and the present.

The scar was caught by Prince Hong for a brief moment. With a look of pity on his face, he stepped forward, grabbed his brother's hand and strode forward. Prince Jing also followed quickly.

Jing Chunxi quietly observed the three men, father and son, huddled together from behind. Prince Jing was patting Prince Hong on the back, saying something, which made the usually steady Prince chuckle softly. While being held by Prince Hong, Master bent down, picked up a stone with his free hand, and casually threw it at the cicadas chirping cheerfully on the branches, feeling quite content.

They were clearly family members who had just met last night, but their every move revealed a natural intimacy, as if the twenty years of separation were just a short morning dream, the person had returned, and the dream had also ended.

As we ascended the bluestone path, the traces of artificial carving gradually vanished. Wild roses peeked out from cracks in the stone, their dew-soaked petals brushing against the hem of Jing Chunxi's skirt. The steps were newly laid, their edges still showing chisel marks, and soft moss sprouting from the cracks.

Jing Yi, who was walking in front, suddenly stopped, picked a goose yellow wild flower from the edge of the cliff and pinned it on Prince Hong's clothes. The two brothers smiled at each other, looking like two young boys stealing candy, which made Jing Chunxi a little jealous.