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The gray sky wept, and rain pelted the ground. Steel echoed loudly, soldiers' blades crossed. Zhen breathed heavily. Her dark hair was soaked, and blood seeped out of her wounds. Her vision blurred, breath ragged. A pair of Jian swords laid by her. Soaked in blood. She inhaled deeply and stood. Her legs wobbled and ached. A screaming soldier ran at her. Sluggishly, Zhen parried his blade, stumbled, and removed his head.

She sank to her knees, a blade stabbed into the ground. Zhen leaned on it, breathless. More soldiers attacked, her twin blades flashed gracefully, and she danced around her opponents, quickly dispatching them. She winced, tripped, and collapsed. Her breath was shallow. Terrified civilians were ushered across a bridge. A collection of Zhen's friends defended them. She smiled, invigorated, and grasped her blades. Slowly, she stood, leaning heavily on her blades. Her blurry vision darkened. She took another deep breath and fought off more soldiers, only to stagger back. Zhen fell over, but not before catching a glimpse of the retreating soldiers. She sighed and smiled. Her goal finished.

Now I can rest. Zhen’s vision turned black. It spiraled into shimmering water, reflecting herself. A little 7-year-old girl. Eyes wide, listening to her father.

“Did you know, Zhen, this kind of tree grows only here, in Guo An? The soil is not right for it outside of Guo An."

Her mother chuckled, "Oh, my little Zhenling, don't let your father talk your ear off." She smiled.

Zhen giggled.

“What?” her father asked, “what’s wrong with knowing your trees?”

“Wu.” a guard, flanking the wagon Zhen’s father sat on, “we should make camp here.”

“Thank you, Hao," Wu responded, guiding his oxen-pulled cart off the road. A few other wagons followed him. They stopped and began to pitch tents, “Zhen, why don’t you help me?” Wu motioned his hand.

Zhen eagerly hopped off the wagon. Hours later, Wu and the rest of the small caravan chatted around a campfire. Hao's men joined them.

“Hao never told us about the time you met Su," one of Hao's men motioned toward Zhen's mother. She smiled.

“Let me see…” Wu tapped his chin, “it started over a bowl of noodles. I was resting at the inn after a long day. Su brought me the bowl, and we began to talk. If I recall Su, your day wasn't perfect."

Zhen's mother nodded, "oh yes, terrible day. Rowdy soldiers made a mess. The innkeeper, Dai, was afraid of angering them. So we left them alone. They insulted our patrons and harassed the women working. I was almost at my wit's end, and I went off on poor Wu here," Su motioned to Zhen's father, "I didn't expect him to listen. But next thing I knew, we were having a pleasant conversation."

“I sort of started to visit the inn more often to talk to her,” Wu added.

“How about you, Su? What did you think?" another of Hao’s men asked.

“Well, unfortunately, I started to grow fond of his company. And next thing I knew, I’d fallen in love,” Su flashed a smile.

“Unfortunately, really, Su?" Wu asked playfully.

Everyone chucked around the campfire, Zhen entranced by the conversation.

Eventually, as the fire died down and the caravan went to sleep, Zhen yawned and stretched, “daddy, can you play something?”

Wu gently smiled, “of course,” he went to his wagon and returned with an Erhu. He propped up a wooden stool and began to play soft, droning music. It created an aura of calm introspection. The gentle notes lulled Zhen to sleep. When dawn broke, the small caravan packed their things and resumed their trip West. Weeks later, they arrived at a port town. Together, they unloaded rolls of silk. Another merchant handed Wu a heavy leather satchel full of gold coins. After the silk was handed off, various glassware, wool, and silver got loaded onto the few wagons. Wu paid another merchant gold pieces, then proceeded to pay Hao, who compensated his men.

Zhen helped where she could, loading and unloading goods. Days later, they left the port town, trekking back to Guo An. Two weeks into the journey, deep in Guo An, a large group of men surged out of the vegetation, attacking the small caravan. Hao’s men jumped to attention, polearms ready. Zhen’s parents hugged her tightly, terrified. The ambushers died, but so did Hao’s men.

“Hao!" Wu shouted, horrified. One of the ambushers stabbed him. Hao collapsed to the ground.

Zhen saw more clearly and watched more of Hao's men fall. Blood spurted from their necks. Some choked on their own blood. Thud! Clang! Zhen's eyes found Hao; he gurgled and feebly reached out. He fell silent, a tear in his eyes. Wu cried and leaped off his wagon, "Zhenling!" he looked her in the eyes, "remember, your mother and I love you," Wu and Su kissed her, "now run! Run for your life!" They pushed her. With no other option, Zhen ran. Tears trailed behind her.

Simply following her parent's orders, Zhen glanced back; her dad lost his head, while her mother got grabbed by the ambushers. She didn't know what happened next. A burm blocked her sight. She ran until she couldn't, collapsing on the ground. Her breath was ragged; she curled up against a tree and cried into her legs. After she could no longer weep, eyes red and puffy. She walked. Zhen had no idea where her legs carried her. Eventually, she came upon a large smoke plume and found burning wagons surrounded by corpses.

She spotted her father's body. Her mother was absent. Zhen nudged her father, "daddy, please." More tears welled up in her eyes. She broke down in pained tears, howling. Eventually, she sank to her knees, crying into her hands. Zhen walked away from the burning caravan, dragging her father's corpse. She curled up into a ball, and tears ran down her face. Zhen watched the wagons burn. The sun dipped below the horizon, and her stomach growled. She cried herself to sleep. The next morning, she woke with aches and sores everywhere. A sharp pang in her stomach. She wandered around near the remains of the caravan. Zhen spotted a tree with yellow berries. Quickly, she picked a handful of berries. But before she could eat them, a gentle voice interrupted her.

“Those are poisonous, you know. I wouldn't eat them."

Zhen spun around wide-eyed and found a tall man in simple gray robes. White cloth, wrapped in black strips of fabric, went from his feet to his calf. He carried a curved blade in its sheath. The morning daylight reflected off his bald head. Zhen dropped the berries.

“Here," he reached into a simple cloth sack, slung over his shoulder, and pulled out dried food. Zhen rushed over and snatched it. She greedily nibbled away. The man handed her another piece, then his water pouch. Zhen inhaled the second piece and gulped down the water. He smiled warmly.

“What's a little girl wandering by herself?"

Tears welled up anew; she recalled the destruction of the caravan and pointed toward it. The man's face softened, and he said, "show me what you mean."

Zhen led the man to the caravan.

“Where are your parents?” he asked, heavy with concern.

More tears streaked down Zhen’s face. She fell to her knees and cried.

The man quickly swooped in to help her, “it’s okay, just point.” he patted her back.

Zhen pointed to her father’s body.

The man threw his scabbard over his other shoulder and picked her up. She cried into his shoulder, muffled. He approached the decapitated corpse. His expression shifted. A stray tear ran down his face,

“And your mother?” he softly spoke.

Zhen shook her head.

The man surveyed the corpses, all of them men, “no idea?”

A nod.

He sighed, his breath heavy, “do you have any other family?” his voice remained steady.

Zhen shook her head again.

He carefully set her down, dropped his bag next to her, and began to collect stones.

Zhen watched, curious. The man piled some rocks and set the corpses next to it. He pulled out sticks of incense and lit them. Then, he clasped his pendant, a yin-yang, and murmured quietly. He made circular motions with his hands and stuck the incense into the pile of stones. Zhen hugged him, and tears ran down her face.

After he finished, the man smiled, “come, I’ll keep you safe.”

Zhen nodded and followed him, “who are you?” she squeaked.

The man stopped, crouched down, and met her gaze, "I am but a humble monk of the Xufeng temple."

Zhen discovered wells of empathy in his eyes. The monk's gaze was soft and kind.

“Let’s go to the temple. So you might have a place to stay.” He smiled.

Stories filled the trip to the temple, and Zhen listened raptly to the monk. One story stood out to her, the story of Liao and the thirteen warriors. Liao battled an evil emperor relentlessly. He lost many fights until a dangerous fight nearly got him killed. Liao was taken to the Xufeng Temple to receive treatment. During his stay, he watched the monks with rapt attention. He begged for their help for over four days. On the last day, the Xufeng temple was attacked by the evil emperor. Liao helped the monks fight off the forces. However, the temple was ultimately lost. It was then the abbot of the temple turned to Liao and agreed to help him.

When they returned to the ruined temple, the abbot rang a bell in the central courtyard three times. Summoning all the monks that survived. He put out a plea to help Liao and avenge the fallen. Thirteen warriors agreed to help. Together, Liao led them and what remained of his forces against the evil emperor for one last battle. Liao won. The thirteen warriors felled many and danced between the enemies like a leaf drifted in the breeze. Together, they pushed the evil emperor back to his palace and halted his advance.

“Did you fight in the battle?” Zhen asked, curious.

“Oh no, I wasn’t around then,” the monk said with a smile, looking ahead. "we're almost at the temple."

The duo crested a burm, and Zhen gawked. A long, windy staircase carved into the mountain led to a tall red pagoda. It thrust into the sky, splitting heaven and earth. Clouds lazily drifted by, giving it a heavenly look. When they got closer, what appeared to be yellow dots from a distance, centered below the rooves, turned into delicate calligraphy.

“It's pretty," Zhen remarked, baffled.

The monk smiled. He led Zhen up the staircase. She gave up halfway and leaned against a rocky outcrop, breathing heavily. The monk stopped with her and peered over the landscape, dotted with forests. Low clouds drifted through them. The gray sky promised light rain. After Zhen caught her breath, the two of them continued up the staircase until they reached a tall, open gate. Zhen's gaze searched around her; the cobbled courtyard held several monks. Some practiced katas. While others sat together in a circle, quiet and still. Lost in meditation.

Zhen followed the monk through a tall pagoda flanked by two smaller ones. The wooden doors propped open.

“Greetings, Zou, Qiao, and Xiong.” He gave a subtle bow, his fist lightly pressed the bottom of his palm. "I found Zhen picking berries. She led me to a caravan her father led.”

Zhen's spirits fell, and her gaze met the floor. A stray tear slid down her face.

“He was beheaded, and the rest of the caravan destroyed. I asked about other families, and she told me there was none."

The three monks peered at Zhen, clinging to the monk’s robes.

“She has nowhere else to go?” Zou asked.

The monk nodded.

The three monks stared at each other and nodded in unison.

“Then she can stay here," Qiao responded.

Xiong, a monk in orange robes and a bamboo pendant inscribed with a yin-yang crouched and held out a hand to Zhen. "Tell me, child, what is it you seek?"

Zhen lifted her gaze and looked at the monk. His face, aged with wisdom, peered back at her. She found solace in Xiong. A flurry of scenes flashed in her mind, from her father's beheading and her mother's disappearance. To the times she spent with her father's caravan. The tall stories that flew, and Hao’s men helping her when she needed it. She wanted to stand and wished to be like her father and the many people that she adored. To find strength.

“I want to help.” Zhen squeaked, “but I don’t know how.”

Xiong smiled, “then allow us to teach you.”