C4 - Beyond the Mountains
The arrival of spring brought more than warmth to Green Willow Village. Merchants who had spent the winter in distant towns began traveling once again, their wooden wagons creaking beneath sacks of grain, bolts of cloth, iron tools, and countless stories gathered from roads that stretched far beyond the villagers' imagination.
Whenever a caravan arrived, the usually quiet village became unusually lively.
Children chased one another through the dusty streets while elders gathered beneath the ancient banyan tree at the center of the village, listening to travelers recount tales of kingdoms, great rivers, bustling cities, and distant wars.
Ye Chen rarely missed those gatherings.
Not because he believed every story.
But because every tale carried a fragment of a world he had never seen.
One afternoon, as the sun hung low over the fields, an elderly storyteller arrived with a merchant caravan. His beard reached his chest, and countless wrinkles lined his weathered face, yet his sharp eyes possessed an energy that age had failed to diminish.
The villagers welcomed him warmly, offering tea and a simple meal before asking him to share news from beyond the mountains.
The old man smiled knowingly.
"You people never tire of hearing stories."
An elderly villager laughed.
"And you never tire of telling them."
The storyteller nodded before gazing toward the distant mountain range that surrounded Green Willow Village like a natural wall.
"You see those mountains every day," he began. "To you, they mark the edge of the world. But to those who have crossed them, they are nothing more than the first step."
The crowd gradually fell silent.
"Beyond those peaks lies Qinghe City, where tens of thousands of people live behind walls taller than any tree you've ever seen. Beyond Qinghe lies the Great Azure Kingdom. Beyond the kingdom stand countless sects where martial artists dedicate their lives to pursuing strength. Beyond those sects are cultivators who command wind, fire, and lightning."
Several children stared wide-eyed.
One little boy asked timidly, "Can people really fly?"
The old man chuckled.
"I have seen a man cross an entire lake without touching the water."
Gasps spread through the crowd.
"I have also seen another man reduce a mansion to ashes with a single strike."
The excitement that had filled the gathering slowly gave way to unease.
Power on that scale sounded less like a blessing and more like a calamity.
Ye Chen remained silent.
His previous life had been shaped by science, technology, and reason. Yet after living in this world for six years, he had learned that many things which seemed impossible could simply be truths he had yet to understand.
The storyteller's expression suddenly darkened.
"But remember this..."
His voice grew quieter.
"Great strength does not always create great people."
The villagers exchanged puzzled glances.
"I have walked through villages that vanished overnight because powerful cultivators fought above them. I have seen innocent families lose everything because they happened to live near treasures coveted by great sects. To ordinary people, the conflicts of cultivators are disasters beyond comprehension."
A heavy silence settled over everyone.
Even the children stopped asking questions.
The old man looked around the gathering before speaking once more.
"Do not envy their lives too quickly. Every path demands a price."
That evening, after the storyteller departed with the merchants, Ye Chen and his father walked home beneath a sky painted crimson by the setting sun.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Ye Chen broke the silence.
"Father... have you ever wanted to leave the village?"
Ye Shan smiled faintly.
"When I was your age, every day."
"And now?"
His father looked toward the endless fields swaying gently beneath the evening breeze.
"When I was young, I believed the world beyond the mountains held every answer. Then I met your mother."
A warm smile appeared on his weathered face.
"After that, I realized a peaceful home is worth more than countless adventures."
Ye Chen lowered his gaze.
"What if someone forced us to leave?"
Ye Shan stopped walking.
The smile gradually disappeared from his face.
For a brief moment, his eyes carried an emotion Ye Chen had never seen before.
Fear.
"It has happened before."
The words were barely above a whisper.
"Years before you were born, another village not far from here disappeared. No one knew whether it was bandits, soldiers, or wandering cultivators. By the time people arrived, nothing remained except burned houses."
He rested a hand upon Ye Chen's shoulder.
"That is why strength matters, son. Not because it gives you the right to rule others."
His grip tightened slightly.
"But because there may come a day when the people you love can survive only if you are strong enough to protect them."
The words settled deep within Ye Chen's heart.
That night, long after his parents had fallen asleep, he stepped quietly outside the house.
The village lay peacefully beneath a sky filled with countless stars.
Somewhere beyond the mountains, hidden by darkness and distance, existed a world of martial artists, cultivators, kingdoms, and dangers beyond his imagination.
For the first time, Ye Chen wondered whether fate had brought him to this world for a reason.
He dismissed the thought with a faint smile.
He was only a farmer's son.
Tomorrow, he would wake before dawn, carry water from the river, tend the fields, and help his father repair the broken fence surrounding their crops.
Life would continue exactly as it always had.
Unbeknownst to him, on a narrow mountain pass nearly fifty kilometers from Green Willow Village, a dozen mounted men silently extinguished their torches before continuing their journey beneath the cover of darkness.
Each carried a curved blade stained by countless battles.
Their horses moved without bells.
Their faces remained hidden beneath black cloth.
Leading them was a scar-faced man whose cold eyes never once looked back.
Their destination...
Green Willow Village.