In truth, this was not my last hope. There was another hope as well, and that was the choosing of the sword. I had trained for only a short period, yet I felt something strange inside me. After three months, the day of sword selection arrived. Everyone already believed that I would fail because of what that strange man had said.
Each person had to go to the "Island of Swords," where the sword itself chooses its master. The island was filled with countless swords, all embedded in the ground in different shapes and patterns. All the students gathered there, and one by one, the swords began choosing their owners. When a sword felt that a person was its master, it would move toward him, and thus it would declare that this person had become its master.
I wished that there would be a sword that would choose me, not an extremely strong sword. It would be fine if it were an ordinary sword, but at least suitable for use. But unfortunately, the sword that accepted me was long and looked ancient. On its handle there was an engraving of a "phoenix." It was an unknown sword; no one knew anything about it, so everyone assumed that it was useless. I took the sword and returned home immediately. I could not forget the laughter that I heard that day. I placed the sword under my bed, not sure what I had expected to happen in the first place.
That night, I went out to breathe some fresh air. I stood beside the lake, watching the fish swimming beneath the surface. I was afraid to think about the sword, and my thoughts drifted back to when I was seven years old. I remembered my father training with his sword, a long blade studded with small blue stones in its handle. When he swung it, it cut through the air, and the sunlight shone on the blade like diamonds.
I used to go every day to watch him. When my father discovered that, he brought me a wooden sword carved with a dragon. From that day on, I trained with him daily until I reached seventeen. When I remembered his gentle smile, I was about to cry when I suddenly heard the sound of footsteps. I quickly turned toward the sound. A young man appeared wearing white on top and light sky blue on the bottom. His long white hair was tied in a ponytail, and his blue eyes rested on me for a long time. This was my third brother.
I did not know what he wanted. I was not sad that my brother had become a disciple of Master "Parki Wang," nor was I happy either. We hardly spoke, except when he needed something. He always looked at me with indifference. But now… the look in his eyes was one of burning anger.
I tensed, but before I could say anything, he spoke:
"Why? Why are you always weak, a failure, worthless? If you did not exist… my family would be happy. I truly wish you were not here."
My eyes widened. I did not understand what exactly had happened with him. I bit my lip hard to stop myself from crying. After saying those words, which were like swallowing thorns, he left quickly. After a while, I went to my room and cried bitterly.
"Why must this happen? Where did I go wrong?"
These were the words that circled in my mind a thousand times.
Since then, I did not leave my room and did not speak to anyone. I felt as if I were slowly drowning in an endless ocean, sinking deeper and deeper, with no light around me. My mother tried to talk to me, but I closed my door and ignored her.
After two weeks, my older brothers went to their work, and my brother "Lang Liu" also left for training. My father became busy with clan matters. Only my mother and my younger brother remained at home. I did not speak to them either. When I went out to eat, I finished quickly and returned to my room.
Later, my mother had to visit the "Purple Mist" clan again because my grandfather was ill. She was afraid to leave me alone, but my father promised her that he would take care of me. After she left with my younger brother, my father tried to talk to me, but I closed my door again and ignored him completely. I did not want to speak to anyone.
Two days later, my father went to work, and I remained alone in my room. Unexpectedly, my aunt "Ilya" came and pulled me outside, wanting to talk. But I ran away as fast as I could.
I did not know where to go until I found myself near the servants' residence. My long hair, which I usually tied, was now loose and messy. I was about to leave when I heard laughter. Curiosity pushed me to look inside.
There was a man, a woman, and a small boy. I knew them; they were servants of my family. The man worked as a guard, the woman was a maid, and the boy was their nine-year-old son. I had heard that the mother was very ill and that they had little money. Yet now, despite everything, they seemed extremely happy.
Why? Why was that child smiling?
When the maid, who was sitting on the ground and looked very ill, noticed me, she asked her son to go and ask me if I was alright. The boy ran quickly and asked me with innocent eyes:
"Do you need anything, young master?"
My mind filled with strange thoughts.
Why does this boy act like this? Why is he clearly smiling even though he is poor, his mother is sick, and he has no future? Why can I not be like that?
Before I realized it, I grabbed his hand and asked him:
"Why are you smiling? Why are you happy even though your family is poor, your mother is sick, and you have no future? Why are you still happy?"
I did not even understand why I said that to a small child who had done nothing to me. I was simply broken, lost, and confused about what I truly wanted, and I thought perhaps I had gone mad. The boy did not seem to understand my question at first. He only looked at me in confusion.
"Sorry, forget it. I… I am sorry."
I was about to leave when he smiled and said:
"My mother and father are with me. I have a home. I can play with my friends and help my father with cooking, and we eat together every day. Who cares about the future, big brother? We live in the present. If you keep worrying about the future, it will not change anything. I just want to make my life happy even with the simplest things."
That bright and innocent smile did not just shock me, it awakened me.
I began to remember everything in my life. Everything I had done was not truly what I wanted. People always said that I was calm and kind, so I tried to be that way. They said I should not make mistakes, so I made sure not to. I was always trying to act like the person others wanted me to be.
But I never enjoyed it.
I wanted to speak more, to express my thoughts, to laugh and smile a real smile, not a fake one. I wanted to try new things every day and speak freely about what I felt. I did not want to be called respectable, or kind, or perfect.
The only thing I truly loved was the sword. But recently, even the sword had become just a tool to make me stand out, not something that gave me joy. But what is the use of all this if I am not happy? Why can I not be what I want? At that moment, a feeling of relief flowed through me because I understood myself, but there was also a feeling of sadness because it was too late to change anything.