Weizhou Street Fighting

736 Weizhou Street Fighting

Inside the study, sandalwood incense curled through the air, yet it could not suppress the oppressive solemnity.

Zhang Yanbang sat blankly, his grandfather's words striking his heart again and again like a succession of invisible heavy hammers. His unfocused gaze fell upon the bowl of "Spirit Treasure Tea" on the desk.

Once upon a time, this had been an extravagant restorative spirit tea that their household had never dared dream of. Now, even its billowing steam seemed dyed lead-gray, weighing heavily in his stomach and clogging his throat.

"Grandfather, I..." He opened his mouth, but his throat was so dry that no sound came out. The resounding words of the Way of the Sages—"Benevolence, Righteousness, Etiquette, Wisdom, and Trust"—seemed as thin as paper before the cruel reality his grandfather had described, ready to tear at the slightest poke, pale and laughable.

"You don't need to answer me right away." Zhang Mingshu's voice carried a trace of exhaustion. He let out a long sigh, as though it drained all the strength from his body. "I only hope that after seeing the blood and fire of this world with your own eyes, you can find a path that truly belongs to you, instead of living in a dream woven from books."

The golden age spoken of by the sages might have been nothing more than their fantasy.

And the gap between ideals and reality would deal a heavy blow to the spirit of the young.

Zhang Yanbang nodded lightly, his heart a tangled skein.

How could he not know how much painstaking effort the lineage had poured into ensuring the younger generation's safe and steady growth, or how high a wall it had built?

Now, storms raged beyond that wall, and the lineage's great ship pitched amid raging