The breakout happened on a night much like this. Ruo Wen sent Qing Chun back to gather her belongings.
The wind howled that night, like a chorus of restless souls wailing in unison. The guards patrolling the camp shivered, a cold they couldn’t explain creeping through their bones. As the night deepened, Hou, lost in thought, suddenly called for Ruo Jun to attend to him. Qing Chun, who was with Ruo Jun at the time, was dragged along with her. The two women, one old and one young, sat before Hou. He had drunk heavily, but the more he drank, the more lucid he became. He smashed jar after jar of wine on the ground, then commanded Qing Chun to dance on the shards.
"You’re incredible, my beauty!" Hou leaned back on his couch, watching Qing Chun’s feet bleed as she struggled to stand. His laughter echoed through the room. Qing Chun could barely remain upright, her feet numb with pain, but her eyes remained fixed on Ruo Jun, silently asking, When will we leave?
Ruo Jun only smiled coldly, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all.
Soon after, the camp was set ablaze. The arena and the surrounding fences were the first to catch fire, sending most of the men rushing to the front to extinguish the flames. Ruo Wen and about a hundred of his followers slipped out in the chaos, disappearing into the night.
When Hou saw the flames rising outside, he remained calm. He casually threw on a robe and stepped outside. In no time, he had gathered six to seven hundred men, waiting for his command. He furrowed his brow and asked first, "Where’s Ruo Wen?"
The crowd turned to look, and there Ruo Wen stood, calmly replying, "Here."
"Oh?" Hou raised an eyebrow. "What’s going on?"
Ruo Wen’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, though his expression remained unchanged. "Heaven sent fire."
Heaven sent fire—that was something that often happened under the blazing midday sun. But in this cold, endless night, where had this fire come from?
Hou grunted, not questioning further, and scanned the surroundings. "Count the men!"
The crowd hesitated. Hou roared, "Count the men!"
A half-limp, bearded man quickly stepped forward in response, running to the front of the crowd and beginning to count the people.
Ruo Wen's expression remained calm as he stared directly at Hou.
It wasn’t long before the bearded man returned, head lowered, and reported, "Leader, we're missing about a hundred youngsters."
Hearing this, Hou narrowed his eyes dangerously, fixing them on Ruo Wen. "So, you really intend to break away?" As he spoke, some bandits, unaware of the situation, quickly distanced themselves from Ruo Wen, whispering among themselves about the grim fate awaiting those who broke away from the group.
Ruo Wen said nothing, swiftly drawing his sword. The sharp blade flashed coldly before Hou’s eyes. As Hou turned his head back, Ruo Wen’s men, numbering over a hundred, had already gathered behind him. Hou laughed, "Seems like you planned to split into two groups and escape from the start. Not bad for someone so young."
Ruo Wen, his sword held firm in the wind, responded, "I’m only leaving with my people. I’m not splitting away from the cause."
Hou laughed louder. "Letting you leave gains me nothing and costs me everything. I should kill you here and now to honor the dead!"
Ruo Wen frowned, pulling off his cloak as his violet pupils gradually darkened into a deep red. At his movement, all one hundred men behind him drew their weapons in unison, ready to fight despite being outnumbered by Hou’s men tenfold.
Unexpectedly, despite the tension, Hou remained unmoved. He said casually, "Many women are foolish, narrow-minded, and like to play tricks. They can’t see the bigger picture."
Ruo Wen, confused, relaxed his sword slightly and asked, "What do you mean?"
Hou tapped the curved blade hanging from his waist and said, "It was only a matter of time before you tried to break away. What surprised me was that a foolish woman came running to me herself, telling me her son planned to rebel. Rebels should be torn apart by five horses."
Ruo Wen, surprised, asked, "Mother?"
Hou didn’t answer directly, continuing instead, "A foolish woman. Do you know why she did that?"
Ruo Wen, raising an eyebrow, waited for the explanation—an old habit he shared with Hou. Hou couldn’t help but laugh, stroking his bushy beard. "The Iron Thorn tribe believed in cursed fates. She once cursed that your unsheathed sword would one day drink my blood, cut through my flesh, and force me to kill my own son!" He paused for a moment before suddenly drawing his blade and pointing it at Ruo Wen. "Son, I can kill you. I absolutely can. But I won’t. I won’t kill you today. One day, when the souls slain by your sword match mine, then I’ll come for you."
Ruo Wen asked bluntly, "Will you let me go?"
Hou swung his sword through the air. "Yes, but under one condition—if you agree to it."
"Speak!"
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