The sky was clear blue, without a single cloud in sight. It felt as if the heavens themselves were trying to tell everyone that this day was different something unusual was about to happen. The wind was soft and gentle.
Suddenly, a voice emerged in a tender tone.
"Son… son… wake up… wake up."
The voice was filled with excitement.
"We're going to the place you want to go. Aren't you happy?"
The voice seemed to come from the shadows, yet it grew louder and louder.
Shree Yan suddenly awakened.
His expression was a mixture of fear, confusion, rage, and shock. He looked down at his hands small and soft. His heart skipped a beat as he turned toward the mirror.
Shree Yan was stunned.
Slowly, he raised his hand and touched his face, as if trying to confirm reality.
His mother noticed his strange behavior and asked with concern,
"What happened, son? Why are you behaving so strangely?"
She had many questions, but she didn't ask them.
Shree Yan turned to her and asked quietly,
"What is your name… miss?"
She froze in shock. She had never imagined her son would ask her such a question. Yet she didn't question him in return.
Instead, she whispered with a faint smile,
"My dear son, my name is Qing You. I am your mother."
The moment she said those words, tears streamed down Shree Yan's face. Qing You held both of his hands tightly.
Her hands were warm.
That warmth felt comforting to him.
She looked at him gently and asked,
"Why is my son's beautiful face filled with tears? Tell your mother. I am here. I will listen. Your mother can do anything for you."
With tears trembling in his voice, Shree Yan whispered,
"No… no, Mother. I just had a dream… a dream where I died. It was so painful. That dream was filled with nothing but pain."
Qing You sat on the bed.
Shree Yan rested his head on her lap and soon fell asleep.
She gently patted his head and whispered,
"Son, this is nothing unusual in this world. Every living being must face such things
not just you. Pain, sadness, fear, and even death. All living beings must endure the harshness of the world: suffering, struggle, and the cruelty of society."
Suddenly, voices echoed from outside.
Soldiers were calling for Qing You and Shree Yan.
"Son, hurry. We need to go," Qing You whispered.
She left the bed, opened the door, and stepped outside.
Shree Yan followed. He stopped by a drawer and opened it. Inside were many clothes too many for ordinary people to choose from.
But Shree Yan did not hesitate.
He chose a black outfit simple, plain, neither special nor majestic.
It was a traditional long robe, hanfu-style, with a V-shaped overlapping collar, the attire of a scholar.
He looked into the mirror.
His appearance was like carved jade.
His hair fell like a curtain of night long, straight, and unbound flowing freely down his back and shoulders. No ornaments restrained it. Only silence and the wind accompanied him.
Each dark strand framed his pale face, as if the world itself had learned to lower its voice in his presence. When the breeze passed, his hair moved gently neither wild nor submissive carrying an air of quiet detachment, as though worldly ties had long since lost their hold on him.
He opened the door and stepped forward.
Suddenly, a man rushed toward Shree Yan. His face was exhausted, sweat covering his forehead and cheeks. Grabbing Shree Yan's hand, he said urgently,
"Young Master, I'm here to take you."
He was a disciple of the Rana Clan. His name was Bo You.
Bo You led Shree Yan outside, where Qing You was already mounted on a horse. Soon, they all began riding.
As the horses galloped forward, Shree Yan looked at his mother and thought silently,
Mother, in this life, I will protect you.
But fate cannot be changed by human words alone.
The sky slowly darkened.
Aggressive cries filled the air. Thousands of birds surrounded them, their shadows spreading across the land. The senior soldier shouted commands, urging the horses to go faster. Hearing his orders, all the soldiers drove their horses forward at full speed. Qing You and Shree Yan rode together.
Qing You removed her robe and gently covered Shree Yan, shielding him from the sharp, cold wind.
She trembled from the cold, yet she didn't care.
Her fear was not for herself but for her son.
"Don't be afraid, son," she said softly. "I'm here. I will protect you."
Shree Yan was confused and shocked by the sudden change in nature. In his memories of his previous life, such an event had never occurred.
Finally, they entered a forest. The senior soldier ordered the troops to search for a cave to take shelter.
After twenty minutes, the soldiers shouted they had found one.
The cave was small, but it was enough to survive.
All of them entered the cave. Darkness filled the space until the senior soldier struck a fire stick against wood. Flames ignited, pushing the darkness away.
Shree Yan was deeply confused as he thought to himself,
"This… this is not going according to the events of my previous life."
He looked at his mother and repeated silently,
"But that doesn't matter. What matters is that I protect her."
Rain began to fall, the sound of water striking the ground echoing loudly within the cave.
The senior soldier gathered wood and placed it in the center. The fire burned steadily.
Qing You and Shree Yan slept together on the left side of the cave. The senior soldier and the other soldiers slept on the right.