As Yun Qiang fell into unconsciousness another dream came to him. But it was unlike any dreams he had before.
It was broken.
Like a broken mirror, the dream had a series of cracks running through it. Images flickered on the surface—some were fights, some were conversations—but Yun Qiang couldn't feel any emotions from them. Only a string of fragmented sounds could be heard. Like a broken recorder, some words were abruptly cut, others were jumbled and shattered.
"Why are you—""Home...""They fou—"
But Yun Qiang didn't care.
The dreams had tormented him for weeks, and his emotions had yet to settle. Inside him, two emotions were fighting for domination: the anger from betrayal and the grief from losing someone important. These emotions clashed in his mind, treating it like a battlefield where there could only be one winner.
Tears started running down his face.
Images flashed in his mind. Brook's pale face, his bloody hands. Bai Gui's mocking face and Wuji's lies.
Yun Qiang broke.
He reached his hand toward the mirror. He wanted to break it—to expand the cracks and put an end to all of it. The dreams, his counterpart… maybe if the dreams hadn't robbed him of his sleep, he could have dodged the strike that injured Brook. He screamed. None of it made sense, and that only made his rage worse.
As his hand was about to touch the crack, an invisible force stopped him.
Yun Qiang's rage grew. He tried again, and again—but the force wouldn't let him through. Frustrated, he turned on the images instead. He grabbed them, pushed them, tore them out of place and stuck them in others. He didn't know if it had any consequences.
He didn't care.
His sadness and anger had blinded him, and all he could do was let them out—hoping to free his mind from his own madness.
After an unknown amount of time the dream turned to darkness, forcing a consumed Yun Qiang to sleep.
When Yun Qiang woke up, he was in a dark and damp environment. It didn't take long for him to figure out where he was. A prison.
He was lying on the floor in a curled-up position. His eyes were red, and the trails left by his dried tears could be easily seen. He forced himself to sit while supporting himself on the cell bars. His body felt weak, and every one of his movements was followed by the sound of bones popping.
As he sat, he saw Sun in the cell in front of him. His body was completely dyed red, and below him, a pool of black liquid stained the ground. Their eyes met; however, they didn't talk. They didn't know what to say to each other, and Brook's death weighed heavily on them.
As time passed, they sat in silence. Yun Qiang's eyes wandered aimlessly around his cell, sometimes meeting Sun's gaze, but he still didn't talk. He didn't know what to say or how to say it to Sun. He didn't know if he should apologize for his slowness, nor did he know if he was at fault for trusting Wuji or if he should apologize for that. So his eyes kept wandering in the dimly lit prison until he met Sun's gaze again.
This loop continued until a guard came and left them some plain rice to eat.
The food was placed just outside the bars, forcing them to slowly eat it through the bars. Yun Qiang took the wooden spoon that came with the food and started eating listlessly, while Sun didn't touch his food.
A thought passed through Yun Qiang's mind.
"You're not eating?"
"No," Sun replied, his voice flat, empty of emotion.
"You should."
Yun Qiang didn't know why he said it. Maybe he wanted to hear Sun's voice. Maybe it was because he found the silence unbearable. Or maybe it was just an intrusive thought. But he said it anyway.
This was the only exchange they had until nightfall. Only then did Sun weakly wish Yun Qiang good night before lying down on his small straw bed.
However, Yun Qiang couldn't sleep. Every time he lay down, he felt guilty. During the day, he could distract himself, but at night he couldn't escape his thoughts. He couldn't fix his attention on the smooth stone blocks or on Sun's bloody figure. At night, there was only darkness and his thoughts. There was no escape from guilt, regret, and grief.
He lay there for hours, turning from side to side, feeling more tired but somehow less able to sleep. In the end, he gave up. He sat cross-legged and started meditating. As he focused on his breath, his mind slowly began to clear, and his troubled thoughts settled a little. He was far from peace and couldn't yet see the end of the road, but at least he had taken the first step.
When morning came, Yun Qiang was still meditating and didn't plan on stopping. His mind was constantly analyzing the recent events. Guilt was still eroding his heart but he had come to terms with some of it. Life was unpredictable, and he couldn't predict anything, but he also knew that this didn't excuse him from responsibility. In silence, he continued to meditate.
When lunch and dinner came, he ate them in silence, then went back to meditation. And when night fell, he didn't sleep. However, Yun Qiang was still mortal, and after three days of meditation, exhaustion caught up with him and he fell asleep. The sheer weight of built-up fatigue forced his mind to slumber, giving him an uneventful night with no dreams or nightmares.
Days came and went. Yun Qiang continued his routine of constant meditation, perfecting it by adding some physical exercise to keep his physical strength and to release the built-up energy that he accumulated during cultivation. However, he was far from reaching his objective. Sometimes, his thoughts wandered and Brook's voice would resurface in his mind, telling him some bad jokes or recounting funny stories.
These used to be happy memories, but now they only filled Yun Qiang with rage.
Why did Wuji lie? Why didn't we manage to save Brook? Why are we always getting bullied?
He already knew the answer. He had known it for a while.
Strength.
Wuji lied because they were weak—because they didn't matter. Brook died because they couldn't win against Bai Gui.
We are weak. I am weak.
Yun Qiang didn't want to accept that the world was entirely based on strength. It was too cruel, too evil. He still believed that other values should be considered, like friendship, honor, justice. But in this world, those values belonged to the strong. And he wasn't one of them.
He couldn't change the world. So he had to accept his weakness and do the only thing he could: become stronger.
And when I'm strong enough... they'll pay for what they've done.
With this new conviction in mind, Yun Qiang became even more immersed in his training routine. The only thing that changed was his motivation. Before, he meditated to calm the mind, but now he did it to improve himself.
And so Yun Qiang's journey continued. Every day was the same: wake up, meditate, eat, train, meditate, sleep, repeat. While he did all of this, Sun silently watched him from his cell.
Time passed.
Yun Qiang didn't know how much time had passed, nor did he care. The only thing he cared about was his progress. And he could feel it, his body had grown stronger and more resilient, his mind had calmed and become sharper. Most importantly, he could feel it: he was close to becoming a cultivator. Maybe he could become one in a day or two.
He heard a door slamming. He stopped doing push-ups and sat down. The door only opened for two reasons: new prisoners or lunch. However, new prisoners were rare, and only one had arrived during the time they were there. So, like always, he sat down and patiently waited for lunch.
But this time was different. It wasn't a single guard who came, but two.
New prisoners?
This hypothesis was quickly discarded when the two guards stopped in front of their cells.
"You are accused of robbing pills from Alchemist Wuji. The council of elders has examined your case and decided on your punishments."
The atmosphere instantly became heavy. Even if Yun Qiang wore a calm and indifferent expression, he was shocked.The council of elders had examined their case?
Something like this was an anomaly. And a huge one at that. Usually, the council of elders only examined high-profile cases and didn't bother with cases that involved outer disciples.
I guess they really care about Wuji...
For a second, he thought of something. However, he instantly discarded the option.
No, my brother wouldn't do something like that. He disappeared the moment the elder took him in. He probably doesn't even care about me anymore.
Still… if he really thought about it, the situation made too much sense.
The elder who oversaw the pill hall had long-standing conflicts with the one who took in Yun Nian. So a case involving a rising alchemist and the relative of a rival elder's disciple? Of course the council would get involved.
Even so, Yun Qiang didn't expect mercy. No one would try to win the third elder's favor by helping him. He was too weak and too inconsequential. In the grand scheme of things, an alchemist was far more valuable than the relative of a disciple. Even if said disciple was a rare talent.
The guard spoke, his tone more solemn than before. It was deprived of emotion, which made it sound like they were announcing a decree, not a verdict.
"Sun and Yun Qiang have been found guilty of stealing healing pills from Alchemist Wuji. They are to be assigned to the border guard for a period of three years. This sentence cannot be reduced or appealed under any circumstance."
"The Council sincerely hopes they will find redemption in service to the glorious Rose Kingdom."
"The two condemned will be moved to the border guard one week after the sentence is publicized and posted on the sect board."
After the guards had announced the sentence, they didn't even spare a glance at the prisoners before they turned around and left the prison.
Yun Qiang was stunned.
Is this mercy... or cruelty?
The border guard of the Rose Kingdom had the highest casualty rate of all military branches. Their role was deceptively simple: defend the border. On paper, it sounded like an easy task—especially in peacetime, when there was supposedly nothing to fight over. But in reality, the border was a constant battlefield.
Skirmishes with the guards from the Sacred Empire were a daily occurrence, with even medium-scale battles breaking out from time to time. These unofficial fights served as a convenient way to test each other's strengths and weaknesses. So both nations ignored them, acting as if nothing ever happened at the border—giving the impression that the border guards had an easy job and all they did was stop and interrogate suspicious travelers.
"Your soul injury healed pretty fast."
It was Sun. For a moment, Yun Qiang thought he was imagining things. The last time he heard his voice was during his first day in prison. Still confused, he quickly composed himself before answering.
"Soul injury? Is that why you never talked?"
"Yes..." He paused. "Bai Gui's attack damaged our souls, so I had to constantly meditate and use a special method to heal."
Yun Qiang felt this wasn't the complete truth. Even if his soul was injured and the technique required an extreme amount of concentration, Sun could have spoken to him while he was eating or before going to bed. But he didn't press him. Sun had known Brook for a long time, and his death must have hit him hard.
"I guess I was too far and my soul wasn't injured. Anyway, it's good to hear you again."
This wasn't a lie. Yun Qiang was genuinely happy to hear Sun; he didn't like the idea of losing another one of his friends.
"Yeah..." Sun's smile was bittersweet, "Qiang, I—"
His words were interrupted by the slamming of a metal door. A guard had entered the prison this time to give them lunch.
After the guard left them the food, Sun seemed to forget what he wanted to say and the duo started eating in silence.