Stubbornness

The room was so quiet that Hua Yin could hear his own heartbeat.

Elder Li's words—"You lost control"—struck like a cold chisel, shattering the shell of excuses Hua Yin had built around himself.

He waited for the reprimand he expected, or perhaps an even harsher punishment.

After all, losing control, even partly, in a situation like that could easily have caused needless danger.

But the storm he had expected never came.

Li Siyuan stepped out of the shadows, pulled over the room's only chair, and sat down as naturally as if the room were his own.

The stern mask on his face softened into his usual warmth. Only his eyes remained sharp as he watched Hua Yin.

"Sit." He pointed to the edge of the bed.

Hua Yin hesitated, then sat as instructed. His back stayed straight, as though he were awaiting a verdict.

"Relax."

Elder Li seemed to sigh. His voice softened. "I'm not here to blame you."

"What happened today would be understandable for any newcomer facing a battle that intense, especially one who had to withstand a high-level beast's mental assault."

"In fact, you seized an opportunity to break through and destroy part of its consciousness. That was remarkable."

Hua Yin looked up. A faint ripple passed through his eyes, then vanished into their dark depths.

He merely nodded without speaking.

"I watched the whole time."

Elder Li pointed to his eyes, then to the ceiling.

"From the moment you rushed into the activity center, through the snake swarm's attack and the surge of your beast instincts, to your flight to the rooftop and that desperate struggle against the mother snake's consciousness... I saw it all."

Something stirred in Hua Yin's chest, but his expression did not change.

He was used to being watched and judged.

He had been since childhood.

"So I know you heard those two analysts."

Elder Li's gaze seemed to see straight through him. "'Unstable factor.' 'Potential threat.' 'Should have been taken away under normal procedure.' Those words stung, didn't they?"

Hua Yin's lips tightened for the briefest instant, then relaxed.

He looked away, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I heard them," he said flatly.

He did not deny it, but neither did he complain.

It was as though their words had been nothing more than meaningless background noise.

Elder Li had looked into Hua Yin's records. He knew his past.

Seeing Hua Yin shut himself off like this, Elder Li understood.

The boy's defenses were thicker than he had imagined.

Years of neglect and loneliness at home had forged more than resilience. They had left him with an icy pride.

He did not care what others thought—or rather, he used that indifference to protect himself.

"It's natural to resent that."

Elder Li nodded as if stating the obvious.

"Geniuses, especially S-rank geniuses like you, are double-edged swords."

"You grow far faster than ordinary people, and your power often lies beyond what they can comprehend."

"To those in charge, the greater the promise, the deeper the worry. You're too 'uncontrollable.'"

He paused, then continued in a calm, firm voice. "But Hua Yin, there are two things you need to understand."

"First, you weren't standing at the same starting line as ordinary Awakened, or even many A-rank and B-rank Awakened."

"Your path is rougher, and the view is more magnificent, but the cliffs on either side are steeper too."

"Their scrutiny and concern—even their fear and desire to keep you at a distance—come from their inability to understand your world or judge what you may become."

"That isn't your fault, but it is a reality you have to face."

"If you want to wear the crown, you must bear its weight."

"With your extraordinary talent, you were always going to draw more complicated looks than other people."

Hua Yin kept his eyes lowered, absently rubbing at the dried blood on his combat suit.

He knew all this already. He just did not care.

What did other people's opinions have to do with him?

All he needed was to grow strong enough to control his own fate.

"Second," Elder Li said, changing tack, "headquarters not taking you away immediately isn't a bad thing. It doesn't mean they've overlooked you."

Seeing the question in Hua Yin's eyes, he explained, "In the past, once someone was confirmed S-rank—especially a combat-oriented S-rank with high potential—headquarters would give them close attention. They might bring them directly into its training program and use the best resources to shape them along a standard path. But in recent years... things have become more complicated."

Elder Li lowered his voice, his tone grave. "The world isn't peaceful. The Rifts are fluctuating, strange species are growing more active, and certain foreign powers and illegal organizations are making moves... The situation is more complicated than it looks."

"Headquarters no longer needs only 'superweapons raised in a greenhouse to a fixed blueprint.' It also needs people who can adapt to complicated environments and find their own way through real, brutal trials."

"Scattering promising young people like you across the country and letting you grow in places closer to the real world, where you face genuine crises and choices, may produce the kind of edge we'll need in the future."

"Of course, you'll still have the protection and guidance you need. That's why I'm here."

Hua Yin nodded silently.

Whether they took him away or let him stay, he could accept either. It made no difference to him.

Elder Li paused, then went on. "The nature of your power can easily inspire fear. When people see nothing but killing and disintegration, they instinctively label you dangerous."

Then he shifted his point. "But what if your power could do more than bring death?"

Hua Yin finally raised his eyes to meet Elder Li's.

"Your Pale Bewitching Butterfly can heal and reconstruct as well, can't it?" Elder Li asked.

Hua Yin nodded. "Yes. I usually use it to heal myself."

"Then try healing someone else."

Elder Li's voice was gently encouraging. "On future missions, when people need rescuing, let your butterflies bring life instead of merely cutting it short."

"That could change how others see you. More importantly, it would deepen your understanding and control of your power."

"Healing demands precise control and insight into the nature of life. It's no easier than killing."

Hua Yin said nothing.

He understood the reasoning behind Elder Li's advice.

Showing that he could heal would give him a way to seem less threatening and spare him trouble.

But deep inside, stubborn resistance rose in him.

Why should he change how he used his power because of what others thought?

Why should he try to please them or prove himself?

His power was a tool to protect himself and achieve his goals, not a trick to perform in exchange for approval.

But he kept those thoughts to himself.

Years of experience had taught him that openly defying or ignoring an elder's advice was unwise, especially when that elder clearly meant him well and possessed unfathomable strength.

So he nodded again. His voice remained even, revealing nothing. "I understand, Elder Li. I'll... try practicing healing."

His tone was respectful, his manner compliant.

But deep in his dark eyes, that lonely expanse of ice showed no sign of thawing.

Li Siyuan missed none of it.

Hua Yin's expression all but said, I heard you, but that doesn't mean I'll do it—at least not sincerely. Rather than grow angry, Elder Li showed the faintest hint of a wry smile.

He was still a child, after all.

A child who had been hurt and had learned to armor himself with coldness and pride.

His heart was shut too tightly. Trying to force lessons about responsibility, belonging, and shaping how others saw him through that door would only make him resist harder.

He would have to find his way one step at a time. Warmth would come slowly.

Elder Li said no more. He stood and patted Hua Yin's shoulder gently.

"Your power is your wings. How high you fly is up to you. But don't forget to look at the road beneath you—and the people on it."

He left Hua Yin with those words, his gaze deep. "Perhaps one day, when you've climbed high enough and seen far enough, you'll look back and truly understand."

There was no demand or disappointment in his voice, only the calm foresight of someone who had seen much of the world.

Then his figure faded like a brushstroke in an ink painting, vanishing from the room as though he had never been there.

Hua Yin stood alone beneath the light for a long time.

Elder Li's final words echoed softly in his ears. Climb high enough... and I'll truly understand...

The boy's face remained expressionless. Only his lashes lowered slightly, concealing his thoughts.

Climb higher?

See farther?

He did not doubt Elder Li's wisdom or experience, but talk of understanding only after looking back from some future height felt too distant and vague to him now.

His rule for life was simple: rely on himself. Grow stronger. Survive.

Other people's opinions, the rules around him, even so-called better choices—none had ever come first during all those years he had spent alone.

Once he had grown used to being ignored, he had also grown used to answering only for his own choices.

His healing ability?

Another way to survive was worth having. He agreed with that logic.

He understood what Elder Li meant about shaping his image and earning acceptance, but it stirred nothing in him.

That was not what he sought. Not now.

Since the moment he Awakened, his world had narrowed to understanding, controlling, and wielding the cold power within him—a power that left him constantly hungry.

He slowly raised a hand and opened his palm.

A point of pale light appeared, quietly unfolding into a Lost Butterfly with translucent wings and a faint green edge that glimmered like a blade.

It settled lightly on his fingertip. Its tiny wingbeats carried an almost imperceptible chill.

Hua Yin studied it with steady focus, as though he were looking at another version of himself.

There was no fervor or pride in his eyes, only the cool scrutiny of someone examining a specimen.

Devour. Evolve. Control.

That instinct had come with his Awakening. It was the first and strongest desire the Pale Bewitching Butterfly had conveyed to him.

It was the only thing he could rely on to make his way through this dangerous world.

Everything else—other people's expectations, the system's rules, even the more accommodating way of living Elder Li had described—

Was like scenery seen through glass. Real, but beyond his reach, unable to stir any true response deep within him.

He did not resent Elder Li's guidance. Part of him was even grateful.

But he had his own path to follow and his own judgment to trust.

His pride did not come from ignorance or arrogance. It was a habit forged through years of loneliness: trusting only his own will.

His fingertip moved. The Lost Butterfly dissolved into flecks of light and silently returned to his body.

The room fell quiet once more.

The boy stood alone beneath the light. His elongated shadow looked almost frail, yet there was an unyielding stubbornness about him.

He had listened to what others said.

He had chosen his own path.

Would the day Elder Li spoke of ever come, when he would finally understand?

He did not know, and he did not want to dwell on it.

For now, he wanted only to hold tight to that cold power and keep moving forward, one step at a time.