Dark Ruler’s Blade

Lin Jiang’s Confusion

Several days slipped by, and Lin Jiang remained lost in unconsciousness. His body lay swathed in layers of white cloth, bound tightly like a fragile relic preserved from decay. The chamber smelled faintly of medicinal herbs and old wood, the air heavy with silence broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards. He did not know that when his eyes finally opened, the world around him would no longer be the same.  

Unbeknownst to him, word of his shattered dantian had already spread across Linjiang. The whispers carried shame to the Jiang household, staining the family’s fragile attempt to restore its honor.  

On the seventh day, Lin Jiang’s eyelids fluttered open. Pain surged through his body like fire racing along dry tinder.  

“It hurts…” he groaned, his voice hoarse, trembling with weakness.  

Yet the agony was momentarily forgotten when a commotion outside his chamber reached his ears. The noise was sharp, voices clashing like steel against steel.  

“What’s happening out there?” Lin Jiang muttered, forcing himself upright. Each movement sent waves of pain through his limbs, yet curiosity drove him forward. He staggered to the door, pushed it open, and froze.  

His father knelt before a man Lin Jiang recognized instantly.  

“Father, what is this?” Lin Jiang asked, bewilderment etched across his pale face.  

Every gaze turned toward him. Their eyes were filled not with compassion but with scorn, contempt dripping like venom.  

“Well, look who finally woke up—the useless child,” sneered the man before whom his father bowed.  

It was Lord Qu, one of the most influential figures in Linjiang. His presence carried the weight of authority, his voice sharp as a blade.  

“Father-in-law, what is going on?” Lin Jiang asked, desperate for clarity.  

Slap!  

The answer came in the form of a brutal strike across his face. The sting burned his skin, the taste of iron flooding his mouth. Lord Qu’s eyes glared with disgust, as though Lin Jiang were filth unworthy of breath.  

“Do not call me father-in-law. From this day forth, the engagement between you and my daughter, Mai Qu, is annulled!” His words thundered through the hall.  

“Why?” Lin Jiang’s voice cracked, confusion and despair mingling.  

“Because I will not let my daughter be tied to a failure like you!” a girl’s voice rang out, sharp and cold.  

It was Mai Qu herself, a ten-year-old whose beauty already hinted at the grace she would one day possess. Her delicate features were twisted with disdain.  

“Mai… what is happening?” Lin Jiang whispered, his heart sinking.  

The bewilderment in his eyes was raw, a child’s plea for answers. He remembered their betrothal, the promises they had accepted together. But now, with his dantian destroyed, Lord Qu had severed all ties, discarding him like refuse.  

Once, Lord Qu had boasted proudly of his daughter’s engagement to Lin Jiang, basking in the boy’s rare talent. Now, that pride had turned to shame. Lin Jiang was no longer a prodigy—he was nothing.  

“Explain this to me!” Lin Jiang demanded, his voice trembling.  

“Ask your father,” Lord Qu spat, turning away. With his daughter at his side, he left the Jiang residence, his departure heavy with insult.  

Lin Jiang turned to his father, desperation in his eyes. “Father, what has happened?”  

“I am not your father!” Lord Jiang roared, his voice laced with fury. He stormed away, leaving Lin Jiang standing alone at the threshold of his chamber.  

Confusion consumed him. His mind spun, searching for meaning in the chaos.  

“Ning, what is going on?” Lin Jiang asked his younger sister, Ning Jiang.  

“You’ve brought ruin upon the Jiang family,” she whispered, her voice trembling.  

“You’ve disgraced us all!” shouted Sui Jiang, his elder brother, eyes blazing with anger.  

“What disgrace? What have I done?” Lin Jiang pleaded.  

Ning Jiang explained everything—the broken dantian, the humiliation, the ridicule that now plagued their family. Each word was a dagger, cutting deeper into Lin Jiang’s fragile hope.  

“No… it can’t be true,” Lin Jiang murmured, collapsing weakly at the doorway. His body trembled, his spirit crumbling.  

“Because of you, we are mocked throughout the city!” Sui Jiang bellowed.  

The fifteen-year-old seized Lin Jiang’s collar, his grip tight, his eyes burning with rage.  

“You should have died! That would have been better!” he spat.  

Slap! Thud!  

A blow struck Lin Jiang’s face, followed by a punch to his stomach. Pain exploded through his body, his frail frame unable to withstand the assault.  

“Brother, stop! Don’t make him suffer more!” Ning Jiang cried, rushing forward.  

“Fool! You don’t understand! You dream of marriage, yet don’t you see? With our family disgraced, no man will ever want you!” Sui Jiang’s words were venomous, his anger spilling over.  

“This has nothing to do with Lin Jiang, my son,” a gentle voice interrupted.  

Lin Jiang’s eyes lifted, tears blurring his vision. “Mother…” he whispered.  

Wen Jiang, his mother, stepped forward, her presence radiating warmth amidst the storm. “Sui Jiang, Ning Jiang, leave us. I will stay with Lin Jiang.”  

“Cast him out, Mother!” Sui Jiang snarled before storming away.  

Lin Jiang sat in silence, his heart heavy, his mind clouded.  

“Don’t dwell on their words,” Wen Jiang said softly, her hand resting on his shoulder.  

“I am nothing but trash now, Mother,” Lin Jiang whispered, his voice hollow.  

“No, you are still the finest son I have ever had,” she replied, her eyes glistening with sorrow.  

“No, Mother. I am no longer the Lin Jiang I once was. I am broken. I am nothing but a burden to this family,” he said, his voice trembling.  

“So you finally admit it—trash!” Lord Jiang’s voice thundered as he entered.  

“My husband, don’t crush him further. He needs our help,” Wen Jiang pleaded, her voice desperate.  

“He needs nothing. He is only another problem for us!” Lord Jiang snapped, his anger boiling.  

“There are still reasons for him to live. Don’t drive him deeper into despair!” Wen Jiang begged.  

“Silence!” Lord Jiang roared.  

From within his robes, he drew a dagger, its blade gleaming coldly in the dim light. He advanced toward Lin Jiang, his steps heavy with rage.  

“What are you doing?” Wen Jiang cried, rushing to block his path.  

“Move aside!” he barked, shoving her aside.  

“Don’t do this!” she screamed, clutching at his leg.  

“I told you—stay out of this!” His fury erupted, his voice echoing through the chamber.  

With a violent motion, Lord Jiang hurled the dagger before Lin Jiang. It clattered against the floor, the metallic ring sharp and chilling.  

“Pick it up. You have only two choices,” he said coldly.  

“What do you mean, Father?” Lin Jiang asked, his voice trembling.  

“Do not call me father. I have no son who is trash.”  

“But Father—”  

“Silence! Choose for yourself. End your life, or leave this house forever!” His words were merciless, each syllable heavy with disdain.  

“Die… or go?” Lin Jiang whispered, his tear-filled eyes fixed upon the man who had once been his protector.