The Wolf and the Lily of the Valley

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Headmaster Hui!" A boy of youthful glow and sunny disposition came in his view as Hui Ji An turned around the corner. His age unknown but he could be in between twelve to fifteen.

"Studying the Classic of Poetry, eh, Chen Xiao?" One of his eyebrows arched as he caught a view of the text book the young boy was trying to hide in his back.

Smiling barefacedly, Chen Xiao moved closely to the Headmaster, and mumbled, "Headmaster Hui, you have always recognized my love for the arts and poetry. You said you'll even put a good word of mouth for me to get into the Imperial Academy when I am older. And as one of the gifted scholars in Wu Xing, I promise to you that I will put your name in the anecdote of my own classic in a few years' time."

Hui Ji An snatched the Classic of Poetry away from Chen Xiao's complacent grip and held it up in the air so the boy couldn't touch it.

"Headmaster Hui! There's only one copy of that in the Room of Records, and it's being used by the level three students."

"And is it right to sneak into your master's personal study and steal?"

"I wasn't stealing, I was borrowing!" Chen Xiao explained.

"Chen Xiao, always remember that to go beyond is as wrong as to fall short."

Losing the words to say, Chen Xiao wondered what the Headmaster said.

Hui Ji An gave a meaningful wink and slid the textbook into his robes.

"Chen Xiao, when you have learned that by heart, let me know and I'll give you my personal copy of the Book of Documents."

The disenchantment on Chen Xiao's face transformed into animated glee that only an ambitious boy yearning for knowledge would feel.

"Headmaster Hui, I'll take your word for that."

"I don't break promises, boy," Hui Ji An replied. "Now, go see your fellow scholars and enrich yourselves with the teachings of the Book of Rites."

Instantly, the heavy treads of Chen Xiao's boots faded as he vanished down the corridor. Whistling to the Ode of the Weary Poet, Hui Ji An walked his way to the west wing where the good news he bears he hopes to liven the dampen spirit of this inhabitable haven.

When he entered the room, Hui Ji An hurriedly returned the Classic of Poetry to the shelf despite not knowing where it should be. Just right after he's moved a few steps back from the shelf, a man in dark cerulean hunting clothes came out of the secret door, followed by a wolf whose pair of vermillion eyes make it appear as ashen pale as it could be. His midnight black hair, cut in rich layers of texture, fell short over his shoulders, parted to one side, and messily brushed back, gave off a more matured look on his worn-out face. His cheekbones and jaw appeared more defined and sculpted that Hui Ji An quickly assumed the young man had been starving himself to death. In contrary to his exhausted look and slimmer face, his upper body seemed to have noticeably bulked up as his robes looked a bit fitted than before. But Hui Ji An did not dare remark on his appearance.

To cut one's hair is cutting ties with family. Yi Tian has lost his sixteen years ago, and he's resurfaced to bring justice to those who have been unjustly judged to fall and die.

"To be victorious in the battlefield, the soldier must lose his heart. To win the game of life and death, he must die first before he gets to live a life worth living." Yi Tian's lips have its way of pronouncing words in its fullest glory. Every word he uttered told of a story that Yi Tian masterfully concealed in the confidence of a few.