**In the home garden adorned with crimson camellias, Lin Fan sat beneath the shadow of an ancient tree. His slender fingers played with a white sheet of paper, folding it slowly into the shape of a crane. His cold eyes stared at the horizon where the silhouette of the family estate loomed. He knew all too well that his father wouldn't live beyond a year—that a fatal heart attack would claim him, just as it had in their previous life.**
*"I won't let you meet death so easily,"* he whispered under his breath as the paper bird slipped from his fingers to ride the breeze.
---
### **The Next Day**
Lin Fan stood in his father's spacious chamber. Pale light seeped through the wooden shutters, casting jagged shadows across the patriarch's ashen face. The water clock on the wall dripped methodically, counting down toward an inevitable end.
**Father (weakly):**
*"My son, the Academy will be your true beginning."*
He clutched an aged book, his eyes reflecting both weariness and wisdom. *"There you'll learn what makes a true leader."*
Lin Fan smiled—a smile that never reached his eyes.
*"Basic combat arts. The sacred Confucian texts. Etiquette for dealing with nobility."* He counted each item on his fingers. *"Things I already know."*
The father missed the veiled sarcasm but sensed something unfamiliar in his son's gaze—something he'd never seen before.
---
### **Two Months Later**
The estate awoke to news of the patriarch's death. A heart attack, exactly as Lin Fan had predicted. In the funeral hall, the young boy stood with a face devoid of grief, his watchful eyes fixed on his uncle, Lin Kai—the man who would temporarily rule the clan until Lin Fan turned forty.
---
### **Morning After the Funeral**
Lin Kai entered the room with confident strides, his gold-embroidered black robe whispering with each step. In his right hand, a jade prayer bracelet rotated slowly, each bead murmuring like a reminder of some unspoken scheme.
He found Lin Fan gazing through the window at the empty training yard.
**Lin Kai (feigning compassion):**
*"A grieving son shouldn't be alone. Come, share a cup of mulberry wine with your uncle."*
He signaled to a servant who brought forth a blue porcelain pitcher. Lin Fan didn't move.
**Lin Fan (without turning):**
*"I have nothing to share with you."*
*"I won't remain under your wing."*
Lin Kai spun his bracelet faster, then produced a small box from his sleeve.
**Lin Kai (foxlike smile):**
*"Five hundred yuan—enough to build a new life in the south, far from the clan's turmoil. You're weary; I understand."*
He opened the box. The silver coins glinted under sunlight.
**Lin Fan (finally turning, eyes glacial):**
*"What was the price for betraying me last time? Was it five hundred too?"*
A stifled gasp escaped the servant. Lin Kai froze—then laughed nervously.
(He didn't fully grasp the boy's meaning.)
**Lin Kai (lowering his voice):**
*"You're too clever... that's why I fear for you. The Academy isn't for the weak. Take the money and disappear—forever. I'll double it to a thousand."*
Lin Fan stepped closer. His fingers brushed the coins... then snapped the box shut.
**Lin Fan:**
*"Keep your silver. I'll leave—not to flee, but to return one day..."*
*"...and pull the chair from beneath you when I turn forty."*
**Lin Kai (eyes kindling with suppressed fire):**
*"If you walk out, there'll be no place for you here hereafter."*
(He tried to threaten him, exploiting his perceived childish ignorance.)
**Lin Fan (exiting):**
*"I won't ask for a place—I'll take it."*
---
### **A Quiet Alley, Far from the City's Bustle**
Lin Fan stood before a modest inn with gray-tiled roofing. Its cracked white walls bore the marks of past rains, and two small windows overlooked the narrow lane. A simple wooden sign read: *"Haven Inn."*
Inside, the faint glow of oil lamps illuminated a tiny lobby. The scent of aged pine and wild mint hung in the air. Behind the counter, a middle-aged man in plain cotton robes set down a worn ledger.
**Innkeeper (smiling):**
*"Welcome, traveler. Need a room?"*
**Lin Fan (nodding):**
*"For a full year."*
**Innkeeper:**
*"Two yuan monthly—includes a clean bed and linens. Washroom's down the hall. Hot water at dawn."*
Lin Fan placed two silver coins on the counter. The man handed him a wooden key tied with red string.
**Innkeeper:**
*"Second room on the left. Window faces a quiet courtyard. Supper's rice and vegetables for five extra coppers."*
**Lin Fan (shaking his head):**
*"No need. Thank you."*
Upstairs, his sparse but spotless room held a pinewood bed, a small rug, and a cabinet by the window. As he set down his bag, the sounds of ordinary life drifted in—chickens clucking, a merchant's distant call.
Here, in this unremarkable place, his journey would begin.