Chapter 12: News of Death
Lin Haixia left in the end.
Unlike his previous feeling of regret and melancholy, he now departed the Divine General Mansion with a heart brimming with excitement, nearly skipping as he ran.
He wanted to deliver this immense news to the commander on the Yanbei Battlefield as swiftly as possible.
If they knew their son possessed a talent in swordsmanship so rare it only appeared once in a millennium, surely they would be astonished and overjoyed!
That one strike—Lin Haixia had understood it, but not completely.
He recognized the technique: the Tides Sword Technique, Boundless Sea · Tides, the most renowned swordsmanship in the Li Family's collection.
Yet, compared to even the most perfected Tides Sword Techniques he had seen, this one was not only its equal but carried a unique essence.
He racked his brain, and at last, he could only think of one word:
Perfectly complete.
Even beyond perfection.
Lin Haixia knew that above perfected technique lay an even deeper realm, known as Supreme Perfection.
However, it was a realm that even those who had immersed themselves in a skill for decades found difficult to attain.
Aside from hard training, it also required extraordinary talent.
And yet, this awe-inspiring sword strike had emerged from Li Hao’s hand.
A six-year-old child.
Even for those exceptionally gifted, to have honed any skill to such a level of mastery at six would already be astonishing.
Furthermore, Lin Haixia had never even seen Li Hao practice the sword.
...
Without a doubt, he felt that Li Hao must have been practicing in secret.
However, rich or poor, there were still only twelve hours in a day.
Time was fair to all, and whenever Lin Haixia saw Li Hao, the majority of his day was spent playing chess, wandering around, idling, or eating.
He had never once seen him practice the sword—not even touch it.
Even if he were training hard behind the scenes, how much time could he have possibly squeezed out?
He asked Li Hao, “Why do you practice the sword in secret?”
“And why conceal such an astonishing talent?”
But Li Hao only smiled and shook his head without speaking.
Lin Haixia thought of many things, of those tales of royal disputes and family feuds. He had heard bits and pieces and had his own faint guesses.
Looking at Li Hao’s quiet, smiling face, Lin Haixia felt his nose twinge with emotion. He understood that if that man at the frontier returned, this child would not be left without support.
He could have been radiant, yet now he could only lie low and remain dormant.
If this child hadn’t sensed his sincerity, he likely wouldn’t have shown him this hidden side of himself.
This one strike not only allowed Lin Haixia to witness Li Hao’s talent in the sword, but it also, in observing Li Hao’s usual way of speaking and demeanor, made him realize how intelligent this child truly was.
...
...
Lin Haixia left in a hurry, not even stopping to say a word to Bian Ruxue as he passed through the front courtyard.
With his departure, peace returned to the courtyard once more.
Now six years old, Li Hao had to rise early each morning to pay respects to the matron at Changchun Academy—this was a part of his upbringing.
The purpose of etiquette was to cultivate a sense of respect for teachers and gratitude from a young age.
Bian Ruxue, as Li Hao’s betrothed, was considered a half-member of the Li Family and naturally had to accompany him in paying respects.
During these morning rituals, they would inevitably run into other children from different branches of the family, though only four or five of them.
They were all about the same age as Li Hao.
For example, Fifth Madam’s second son and youngest daughter.
Sixth Madam’s orphaned son.
Eighth Madam’s son and daughter.
Other children, like Li Qianfeng and Li Wushuang, were either extraordinarily gifted and had been taken away by renowned teachers or had grown up and enlisted in the army, vying for honor and rank.
As for the eldest Madam’s son and daughter, they were already around twenty years old, serving as junior generals in the army and only occasionally returning home when there was no battle.
Being part of the Li Family, military discipline was ingrained in their bones, and they set an example in all things. As a result, even the matron rarely saw her own children throughout the year.
After paying respects, Li Hao and Bian Ruxue were invited by the elegant and graceful He Jianlan to stay for a nutritious breakfast she had prepared. Sitting at the table, Li Hao exchanged a few words with this dignified woman, and then the two little figures swayed their way back to their own courtyard.
Li Hao, as usual, spaced out, contemplating chess.
Bian Ruxue, on the other hand, practiced her swordplay in the courtyard.
Before his departure, Lin Haixia had taught her an advanced sword technique that would take her years to master.
One might have thought that these harmonious and tranquil days would continue to flow by...
Until, several days later, sudden news arrived at the Divine General Mansion.
Lin Haixia had returned.
A soldier clad in heavy armor, with a powerful build and a piercing gaze, had brought Lin Haixia back.
But he had brought back only a single hand.
When Zhao Bo delivered the news, Li Hao was stunned.
The chess piece he held fell to the ground, but he did not even glance at it, though his gaze was usually fixed solely on his game pieces.
Without even putting on his boots, he dashed out, barefoot, and sprinted to the Changchun Academy.
The maid at the entrance tried to announce him, but Li Hao had already rushed inside.
And there, in the main hall of the academy where he usually paid his morning respects, he saw a soldier kneeling on one knee.
Li Hao’s heart trembled. Skirting past the soldier, he saw a piece of red cloth on the ground in front of him, upon which lay a severed hand.
The stump was ragged, torn, and bloody, with mangled flesh and bone.
The sleeve was a familiar cyan—Lin Haixia’s clothing when he had left.
This hand had, just days before, patted that little girl’s head.
By his ear, the soldier was reporting to He Jianlan:
“On Lin Officer’s journey north to Yanbei, he was ambushed by demons along the Qizhou state road.”
“The battle at Yanbei is in a stalemate. Recently, demons have infiltrated the cities around Yanbei, attempting to disperse our military forces. Similar demonic activity has been reported in other provinces…”
“Hold on a moment.”
He Jianlan interrupted the soldier.
She froze slightly, her gaze settling on Li Hao, who had rushed barefoot into the hall.
After a moment’s thought, she sighed softly and instructed Xuejian beside her, “Take the hand away for now.”
“Yes.”
Xuejian nodded gently. As she turned to glance at Li Hao, a trace of familiarity flickered in her almond-shaped eyes. She knew this child well and was aware that the owner of this hand had been half a mentor to him, helping to lay his foundation.
However, being raised in a military family, she had already witnessed countless instances of life and death. Apart from a brief sigh, she felt no other emotion.
When Xuejian approached to take the hand, Li Hao stepped forward to block her path.
Ignoring her astonished expression, he turned his gaze toward the soldier, his eyes locked onto him with a cold intensity unbefitting a child.
“Which demon killed Uncle Lin?”
The soldier raised his head, meeting the angry and icy gaze of a small boy whose height barely reached his kneeling figure. Suspended from the boy’s waist was a jade pendant, unmistakably marking him as a qilin child of the Li Family, though the soldier wasn’t sure which branch he belonged to.
He immediately responded, “It was a Millennium Great Demon, a fourth-realm demon, who led a group of others in ambushing and devouring Lin Officer. By the time the city guard of Qizhou arrived, only this arm remained.”
Devoured.
Li Hao’s mind roared as if struck by thunder. His eyes reddened, and his blood seemed to flow backward, his head pounding with rage.
He could vividly imagine the scene—brutal, horrific, beyond words.
Since arriving in this world and growing up in the Divine General Mansion, Li Hao had heard countless stories about demons, though he had never seen one himself. He knew the battlefield was cruel, but this was the first time he had felt its brutality so viscerally.
“Does that demon have a name?”
Li Hao’s voice was low and steady.
The soldier replied, “It does. The demon has long resided outside Qizhou City and calls itself the Tiger-Robed Immortal.”
Li Hao silently engraved the name in his heart, an indescribable killing intent surging within him. Yet he controlled his emotions and refrained from asking further. Instead, he turned, gathered the red cloth from the ground, and carefully wrapped the severed hand within.
Then, he raised his gaze toward He Jianlan, seated at the head of the hall. “Madam, I will take Uncle Lin’s hand back now. Forgive my impropriety.”
With that, he carried the wrapped hand and left, barefoot.
He Jianlan’s eyes flickered faintly. From Li Hao’s expression and actions, she discerned something rarely seen—a maturity and intelligence beyond his years. This child, she realized, was far more composed and astute than she had imagined.
“Xuejian, fetch Chengzhi’s boots for Hao’er,” He Jianlan instructed.
Xuejian nodded and went to the side room to retrieve the boots. When she rushed out of the courtyard, however, the small figure had already disappeared into the distance.
...
...
Back at the Shanhe Courtyard.
Li Hao found a spot to bury the hand. Afterward, he carved a wooden marker with the words "Lin Haixia" and placed it on the soil.
He instructed Zhao Bo to fence off the area and prohibit anyone from stepping into it.
When Zhao Bo learned that Lin Haixia’s severed hand was buried there, he quickly advised, “Young Master, this is the family courtyard where the masters reside. We cannot bury remains here. There is a cemetery for martyrs where Lin Officer can be properly honored.”
“Let a cenotaph be established for Uncle Lin in the martyrs’ cemetery,” Li Hao replied softly, glancing at the courtyard. “But this vast Shanhe Courtyard can hold a single hand of his.”
“Young Master…”
Zhao Bo tried to persuade him further, but Li Hao stopped him with a look, leaving him no choice but to relent.
“See to it that Uncle Lin’s family is compensated and treated well,” Li Hao said to Zhao Bo.
Zhao Bo replied, “Lin Officer was a member of the military. The Yanbei forces should already be handling matters for his family.”
“That is their responsibility. This is ours,” Li Hao said, fixing Zhao Bo with a steady gaze. “You understand what I mean.”
Zhao Bo hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly. “I understand.”
The news of Lin Haixia’s death was like a pebble cast into a lake. It caused only a small ripple within the Divine General Mansion and quickly settled. Life in the other courtyards continued as usual.
However, within the Shanhe Courtyard, Li Hao grew even more obsessed with chess, to the point of neglecting Bian Ruxue’s sword practice.
He didn’t tell the little girl about what happened to Uncle Lin, sparing her the sorrow.
Time flowed on.
One night, Li Hao awoke from a nightmare. He had been playing chess with Uncle Lin when a tiger burst onto the scene, overturning the chessboard and pinning Lin Haixia to the ground, sinking its fangs into his neck.
Sitting up in bed, Li Hao panted heavily.
Beside him, the little girl stirred from her sleep, rubbing her eyes groggily. “Brother Hao, what’s wrong?”
Li Hao regained his composure and shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
After she fell back asleep, Li Hao adjusted her blanket, then rose and walked to the window.
The moonlight streamed in, and in his mind’s eye, words began to appear:
[You have comprehended Chess Heart.]