Ashes. A promise beyond death

Chapter 9 -A Thousand Years Ago Part ll . Yu Bin's Training

The morning sun filtered through the wooden lattice windows of the Water Palace, casting warm golden rays across the tiled floor. Yu Bin stood at the edge of the private training ground—her arms folded, her expression tight with irritation. The gentle breeze played with her long hair, and the soft rustle of her blue and silver-embroidered robes broke the stillness around her.

"Master Bao Fang is late," Yu Bin muttered, her gaze fixed on the path leading into the courtyard.

She tapped her foot, then began to pace, her agitation growing with each passing moment.

The past week had felt like a trial of patience. Her mother had insisted she begin formal training, claiming that destiny demanded more from her than luxury and diplomacy. But to Yu Bin, training had meant long stretches of meditation, balance drills, and constant corrections. She had imagined swordplay that leapt across rooftops—not endless posture correction.

"She’s always late. It’s like she thinks making me wait is part of the lesson."

Soft footsteps against stone caught her attention. Bao Fang entered the courtyard—serene, composed, and unreadable. She wore pale blue robes, modest yet elegant, and carried a weathered scabbard across her back. Though her movements were graceful, there was a quiet strength in every step.

"You've been here ten minutes, Yu Bin," Bao Fang said calmly. "Impatience is the enemy of discipline."

"You said dawn. This is after dawn."

"I said come prepared. You're already unsettled before we begin. That is not preparation."

Yu Bin groaned. "This is unfair."

Bao Fang’s lips curled into a faint smile. "War, politics, and fate rarely concern themselves with fairness. Fortunately, our purpose today is not to debate justice."

Yu Bin quieted, folding her arms again. She deeply respected Bao Fang, though she would never admit it aloud. The master had an unshakeable calm, one that made Yu Bin feel like a storm whenever she entered the room.

Bao Fang unsheathed her sword and nodded. "Pick up yours."

Yu Bin retrieved the polished wooden practice blade beside her. She had argued repeatedly for a real sword, but Bao Fang had refused.

"Not until your body moves with the blade like breath in the wind," her master had said.

She took her stance—legs apart, knees bent, sword poised.

Bao Fang walked in a slow circle around her. "Too rigid. You’re still trying to control the sword with your arms. Let it move through you."

"I am."

"You’re thinking about control. That is not the same."

Frustration curled in Yu Bin’s chest. She hated feeling slow, hated being corrected. But more than anything, she hated how much she wanted Bao Fang’s approval.

They trained in silence for nearly an hour. Bao Fang offered corrections with her usual precision—never harsh, never indulgent. Yu Bin stumbled once, nearly dropped the sword during a spin, and fought the rising urge to throw it across the yard.

"Enough for today," Bao Fang said at last.

Yu Bin exhaled, lowering the practice sword.

Her master regarded her carefully. "You expect everything to come easily."

"I’ve worked hard."

"You’ve struggled. That’s not the same."

The silence that followed was sharp.

Bao Fang turned toward the cherry trees lining the edge of the courtyard. The blossoms were just beginning to bloom.

"When I was your age, I already wielded a real blade. Not because I was ready, but because I had no choice. War arrived at our doorstep. The first life I took was not one I wanted to take. It still lives with me."

Yu Bin’s frustration dimmed. She blinked, startled by the intimacy of Bao Fang’s words.

"I teach you the sword not to make you a killer, but so that you may choose whether to become one."

Yu Bin hesitated, then asked quietly, "Why did you agree to train me?"

Bao Fang raised an eyebrow. "Because your mother asked."

"No... I mean really."

Bao Fang studied her, then offered a rare softness in her expression. "Because I see fire in you. But it has no anchor. You burn in every direction. If I can help you find stillness, you may become more than either of us imagined."

Yu Bin said nothing, but something inside her shifted.

Footsteps sounded from the corridor.

A servant appeared at the gate, bowing. "Your Highness. Master. The Crown Prince requests the Princess’s presence at the east pavilion."

Yu Bin frowned. "What for?"

"He did not say, Your Highness. Only that it was urgent."

Bao Fang met her eyes. "Go. Training is not always done with a blade."

Yu Bin sighed and gave her a light bow before heading off.

---

The east pavilion overlooked the koi lake, tranquil and white-stoned. When Yu Bin arrived, she immediately saw him.

Xian Chen.

He leaned against a carved post, his arms crossed, gaze fixed on the shimmering water. He did not turn as she approached, though she could feel his awareness of her presence.

"You called for me?" she asked, her voice level.

"You’re late," he replied without looking at her.

"I was training."

"Must not have been a productive session if you’re this slow."

Her irritation flared. "Why did you summon me?"

Finally, he turned. His dark eyes met hers, calm and unreadable.

"To apologize."

She blinked. "What?"

"For calling you annoying. And crazy."

Yu Bin stared. "Is this a trick?"

"No. A test."

"What kind of test?"

Xian Chen stepped closer. "To see if you’re strong enough to handle the truth."

"What truth?"

"That I wasn’t entirely wrong."

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

"You—"

"I meant it as a compliment."

"You are the most irritating person I’ve ever met."

"I know."

For a moment, Yu Bin caught it—a brief flicker of amusement. Not a smirk. A genuine smile.

She looked away, her face warming.

"Why did you really call me here?"

He sobered. "Because Bao Fang is your master now. I wanted you to know that I’ll be watching."

"That’s... unsettling."

"Then I’m unsettling."

They stood in silence.

Yu Bin sat on the stone bench beside him. The koi rippled below, dragonflies flitting in the air.

"She said I fly in too many directions," Yu Bin said quietly.

"She’s right."

Yu Bin turned to him, surprised.

"You have potential," he added. "But you scatter your energy. It makes you reckless."

The words stung—but only because they rang true.

"But," Xian Chen continued, his tone softening, "that same fire is what draws people to you. And what makes some afraid."

She looked at him. His eyes had returned to the water, but there was something different in his posture. Less guarded. Less cold.

"Thank you," she said.

He nodded.

Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Yu Bin watched him go, heart unexpectedly light and thoughts tangled.

She stood and returned to the palace, her steps slower, more thoughtful.

In the trees above, Bao Fang stood silently among the branches.

She smiled.

"Fools," she murmured. "Both of them."

But her eyes were warm.