Crimson Leaves

"The literal meaning."

Old Man Luo looked back and asked in confusion, "You don't understand?"

After a brief silence, Yuan Yuan replied, "I... don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"That's fine too. Who doesn't have a few little problems in this world, right?" Old Man Luo said indifferently. "At worst, it just means you won't live happily."

She felt no joy when she picked up a sword, nor could she enjoy peace after putting it down.

Whenever she was alone, she felt an indescribable bewilderment and panic.

Like someone lost, wandering in circles again and again, unable to make up her mind.

"Let me guess..."

The old man pinched his chin in thought, his smile growing increasingly malicious. "Don't tell me even you see yourself as the 'good child' everyone talks about?"

Yuan Yuan said nothing.

"You're from the Yuan Family, aren't you?" Old Man Luo asked. "I once met your uncle. Why are you nothing like him?"

"Women and men are always different."

"Is that so?" Old Man Luo was puzzled. "Then why have I always heard... that the women of the Yuan Family are crazier than the men?"

This was the Yuan Family's blood of struggle.

A bloodline inherited from wars, slaughter, and the brutal selection of survival of the fittest over thousands of years—a nearly perfect machine of violence.

Even from primary school, from kindergarten... from the day they were weaned, they would begin to experience an uncontrollable urge toward brutality.

It was struggle engraved into their nature.

The Yuan clan's response was not suppression, but trying to put that power to proper use. If struggle was vile, then they would seek a nobler way to struggle, a way to resolve both sides of the matter.

Yet no matter how dazzling the halo or glory, it