Just before dawn, Yin found himself awake again, the silence of the room wrapping around him like mist. He glanced over—Yang’s bed was empty.

  He must’ve woken up early too.

  Yin stared up at the ceiling as his thoughts wandered back to the night before.

  His awakening.

  Zhongkan’s demonstration.

  Soulprints.

  That spar.

  Wang Hua.

  So many things had moved him in such a short time. It was rare. Almost overwhelming.

  Was this what life would feel like from now on?

  He wondered—was this the moment his life truly began?

  Then—

  BAM!

  The door swung open, and Yang burst in, full of noisy, unbothered energy.

  “Yin, you’re finally up! Get ready—we’ve got a strategy meeting before we head back out to the northern frontier!”

  Yin sat up slowly. “If I wasn’t awake before, I definitely am now—with how loud you are.”

  Yang grinned. “Please. I could tell you were already awake. Now come on, the others are probably waiting.”

  Yin stood, brushing the sleep from his eyes, and readied himself.

  Surprisingly—even to himself—he felt a spark of excitement.

  He didn’t know what today would bring.

  But for once, he looked forward to finding out.

  As the brothers reached the meeting room, the atmosphere was much different than the last time they entered. Everyone had smiles on their faces—it felt more like a family gathering for breakfast than a war council. The brothers were greeted warmly.

  “Yin and Yang, how are you both feeling? I know awakening can put a toll on the body,” the general asked.

  “I feel better than ever, General,” Yang said proudly.

  “I must admit, I’m still a little tired. But I feel the same way as Yang—better than ever,” Yin added.

  “That’s normal, Yin. Yang’s the one that’s not human.”

  “Not human?!”

  Shi Siming grinned. “Yeah, Yang, that tiger stance yesterday made me think you were gonna start crawling on all fours.”

  Li Yi chimed in too. “I’m pretty sure I heard some roaring during the night. Was that you, Yang?”

  “Ha, very funny you two,” Yang said sarcastically, though he laughed with them.

  The general stood. “Squad, we have a long day of travel ahead, and we’ve got things to discuss before we move out. Yin, Yang—this will be your first official strategy meeting. Let’s begin.”

  Everyone gathered around the meeting table, and Wang Xuance stepped forward.

  “First, let’s talk about the current situation at the northern frontier.”

  He began his report. “Skirmishes are growing frequent. Rebel forces have been hitting our supply lines with coordinated raids. These attacks are no coincidence—they’re intentional. Something bigger is brewing.”

  He unrolled a worn map on the table.

  “As of now, we’re on the losing side. Our main defense fortress has already suffered multiple breaches. When we arrive, it won’t be a defensive stronghold—it’ll be a battlefield.”

  Liu Fang looked up from his notes. “It seems our enemies are more organized than we thought. What’s the plan, Xuance?”

  Wang Xuance smiled. “The earth. Time and nature are on our side—we’ll use that to our advantage.”

  Wang Hua leaned in, interrupting gently. “Dad, they won’t get your riddles. Just explain it clearly.”

  “Ahh, of course. What I mean is—we use the terrain. Winter is approaching, and the weather will be just as harsh as the enemy. But that’s a good thing. I’ve prepared traps, ambush zones, and chokeholds. While I set those up…”

  The general took over. “We distract. Bold moves. Loud pressure. We’ll draw attention while Xuance prepares in the shadows. Our goal isn’t just to push them back—it’s to end the threat at the frontier once and for all. Understood?”

  “Yes, General,” everyone echoed.

  “Good. Now let’s go over squad roles. Each of you will play a critical part in turning this around.”

  Squad Assignments:

  Shi Siming, you’re in charge of the vanguard unit. You’ll lead the frontline assault.

  “Just how I like it,” Siming replied.

  Li Yi, you’ll oversee medical response and field stabilization. With our limited numbers, quick response will be key.

  “You’re talking to the best—and the most beautiful,” she said, flipping her hair.

  Liu Fang, you’ll handle logistics and intelligence coordination. Your analysis will guide much of our tactics.

  “I’ve already started,” Liu Fang said, scribbling notes.

  Yin Zhongkan, you’ll serve as the main instructor for soldier formation and morale.

  Zhongkan gave a silent, respectful nod.

  Yin and Yang, you’ll rotate between the lieutenants to learn firsthand. Training under each of them will prepare you for what’s to come.

  “Yes, sir,” both brothers replied.

  Wang Xuance then pulled out a scroll and handed one to each of them.

  “This contains our squad’s formation. Memorize it well. We’re the core of the frontier response. If even one of us falls, the line could break.”

  They all studied the scrolls and put the formation in memory when Yin realized something.

  “Wang Hua? Wait, are you traveling with us?!” Lu Yin accidentally blurted out his thoughts.

  Wang Hua looked at Yin with a smile. “Of course. Just like you guys are receiving training to be soldiers, I’m training under my father to be a strategist. What’s the matter, Yin? Don’t you want me to come?”

  Yin dodged the question smoothly. “Sorry for thinking aloud. I was just trying to make sure I understood the formation. Please continue, Mister Xuance.”

  Mister Xuance chuckled. “Let’s continue. There’s one last thing I would like to add before closing out the meeting. A warning. These raids… they’re too coordinated to be isolated acts of rebellion. There are whispers of a leader among the rebels. No name. No banner. But from what they say, he’s dangerous.”

  The general added, “Are there any questions before we head back out for travel?”

  “No, General,” the squad responded.

  “Ah man, this war talk has me itching to fight. Yang, what do you say we go for a round?”

  Yang grinned. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  Li Yi cut their excitement short. “Nope. I’m not patching anyone up today. Save it for later.”

  The general laughed. “Yi’s right. We’ve got to get going. Let’s get ready to leave.”

  After the strategy meeting, once everyone had finished gathering their gear, Wang Xuance called the squad together in the courtyard.

  “Cavalry is still limited,” he said, “but we’ve secured enough horses for all of us.”

  The brothers glanced at each other blankly.

  They had never ridden a horse in their lives.

  “Uhh… that’s fine,” Yang said quickly. “We’ll go on foot. Good exercise.”

  The general chuckled. “Don’t forget, Xuance—they may be special, but they’re still newbies. Let me guess… neither of you have ever ridden before?”

  “Well, no,” Yang admitted, “but how hard can it be? I bet I could figure it out easy.”

  Li Yi’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Oh? Is that so, Yang? Then go ahead. Pick a horse—any horse—and show us how it’s done.”

  Yang scanned the line of horses and locked eyes with a sleek, muscular stallion—the most beautiful and clearly the most untamed.

  “Yang… maybe you should pick another—” Yin began, sensing disaster.

  “Shhh,” Li Yi whispered, grinning. “Let him cook.”

  Yang marched up and tried to mount the stallion with all the confidence in the world—but far too quickly. The moment he gripped the saddle, the horse bucked hard and flung him off like a sack of rice.

  THUMP!

  Yang groaned, sitting up and holding his head. “Y-Yeah… walking sounds great.”

  The entire squad burst out laughing.

  Shi Siming clapped a hand on his knee. “Never thought I’d see a horse beat a tiger.”

  Li Yi turned to Yin, still smiling. “Your turn. Wanna give it a shot?”

  “You really just want to see me fall too, don’t you?” Yin replied flatly.

  “Oh, come on,” she teased. “You might actually be graceful.”

  Yin paused, then narrowed his eyes with a calm smirk. “General, since Yang and I can’t ride solo yet, would it be alright if we doubled up with someone more experienced? Since Yi seems so talented… maybe it’s best Yang rides with her?”

  Li Yi’s grin vanished. “Wait—hold on—maybe he should ride with—”

  “Excellent idea,” the general cut in. “Yang, you’ll ride with Li Yi.”

  “You little—” she muttered, stepping toward Yin, who was already turning away with quiet satisfaction.

  Wang Xuance leaned toward An Lushan. “Your squad was playful before. But with these two? Good luck keeping them serious.”

  The general laughed. “They’re a perfect fit, aren’t they?”

  Wang Xuance chuckled. “They really are.”

  An Lushan called out to the squad. “Alright, that’s enough fun. Time to move out.”

  He glanced at Lu Yin. “As for you—”

  “He can ride with me,” a voice cut in smoothly.

  Everyone turned. It was Wang Hua, already standing beside a sleek black mare. She rested one hand on the saddle, her expression calm and unreadable.

  “I’m the only one without a packed mount,” she added casually.

  Lu Yin looked her way, surprised.

  “You sure?” the general asked.

  She nodded. “It’ll be fine.”

  Lu Yin stepped forward, still quiet. His hand brushed the horse’s side as he approached, but his eyes were on her.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Without a word, Wang Hua turned, leaned forward slightly, and extended her hand toward him.

  It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t teasing. It was calm. Intentional.

  A silent gesture that said, Come with me.

  The squad finally finished preparations and set out again for the northern frontier.

  The journey north continued in steady rhythm.

  Snow-dusted winds brushed against the cloaks of the traveling squad, and the skies above grew dim with the falling dusk. Mountains loomed faintly in the distance, their jagged shadows promising the hardship still to come.

  As the final rays of light dipped beneath the horizon, the general called for camp.

  By the time the fires were lit and the tents pitched, night had wrapped the land in a hush. The usual edge of the road had faded—replaced by a stillness that came only with distance. No towns. No noise. Just soldiers, wind, and the crackle of firelight.

  The squad gathered around the flames, their silhouettes flickering in orange glow. Some sat in silence. Others leaned into easy chatter.

  And for the first time in what felt like days—they weren’t marching.

  There was nothing left to do now… but sit.

  And breathe.

  And talk.

  “Finally some time to rest. It’s been a while since I’ve left the outpost for so long. I forgot how exhausting traveling was.”

  Everyone agreed, sighing with tired looks on their faces—except Yang, who was as energetic as ever.

  “You guys are tired? I could keep going all the way to the northern frontier.”

  “That’s easy to say when you fell asleep on me the whole time. You’re never riding with me again, Yang,” Li Yi retorted.

  “Falling asleep while on horseback is crazy, Yang. You’re truly something special,” Shi Siming added.

  “What can I say? I am pretty amazing.”

  “Yang, that wasn’t a compliment,” Yin put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  “Oh.”

  Shi Siming laughed. “I commend you, Yin. Living with this guy all your life couldn’t have been easy.”

  Yin chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve considered running away a couple times because of it.”

  “Yeah yeah, don’t let him fool you. Yin would cry every time I left him behind when we were younger. A real crybaby.”

  “You never fail to remind me, brother. That was eons ago—you don’t even remember those days clearly.”

  “I remember everything, Yin. No matter how long ago.”

  “Oh, Yin was a softy back then? You’ll have to tell me some stories, Yang,” Li Yi commented.

  “Of course, Yi. That reminds me—I’ve been wondering how all of you met. How long have you guys been a squad?”

  The general looked up, reminiscing. “How all of us met? That sure is old memories.”

  “First, I should tell you what this group is known as in the rest of the military,” the general said, his voice low, as if sharing a secret.

  “What is it?” the brothers leaned in with curiosity.

  “The Outcasts.”

  “The Outcasts? Why would they call you guys that?”

  Li Yi spoke up first, her voice softer than usual. “Because before Lushan took us in, we were all rejected. Soldiers the empire didn’t want. An Lushan found each of us—one by one—and said he’d build a squad that would change China forever.” She smirked faintly. “Whatever that means.”

  A quiet beat passed.

  “But… without him, who knows where I’d be.”

  “I was the first member,” Shi Siming rumbled. “Lushan and I grew up together. We even joined the army side by side. But I got court-martialed for disobeying a stupid commander’s suicidal orders. I’d have been thrown out completely if not for him.”

  The general laughed. “Believe it or not, Yang—Siming used to be wilder than you.”

  “That’s not possible,” Yin said, deadpan.

  Li Yi rolled her eyes. “I was next. A young medic… terrified of needles.”

  “Wait—terrified of needles?” Yang burst into laughter. “How did you expect to be the greatest healer? No wonder you got kicked out.”

  Li Yi grinned and pulled a needle from her pouch, twirling it between her fingers. “I’m not afraid of them anymore, Yang. Want me to demonstrate?”

  “Uhh—nope. Forget I said anything.”

  “Mmhm. Thought so.” She tucked it away and leaned back. “Anyway, Lushan said he saw something in me. Gave me a second chance when no one else would.”

  “Fang. You’re up.” The general turned to the quiet figure scribbling in his notebook.

  Liu Fang blinked. “Oh… what are we talking about again?”

  “How we met.”

  “Ah. Right.” He didn’t lift his eyes from the page. “I was an orphan. Grew up in the barracks. They said I was too frail, too weird, too quiet. When I got old enough to survive on my own, they kicked me out.” His pen slowed. “With nowhere to go… I was going to—” He paused, voice faltering. “But that’s when the general found me. He gave me a place. Gave me purpose. I’ve been here ever since.”

  A hush settled for a moment.

  Then Yin Zhongkan spoke, his tone cool and steady.

  “I guess I’m last. I’d been in the army for years. Quiet service. No promotions. No recognition. Always passed over.” He looked into the fire. “I was ready to retire. Thought I’d missed my chance. But then Lushan offered me something the empire never did—leadership. He kept his word.”

  The general nodded slowly, his voice low but proud.

  “That’s how this squad came to be. A band of rejects the empire tossed aside… now the last line between peace and ruin.”

  He looked at the brothers.

  “And now, you’re part of it too.”

  Hearing this, the brothers reflected. For the first time in years, they felt like it was more than just them versus the world. They were a part of something now. In a way, they related to the name—Outcasts.

  As the squad reflected on old times, Yang whispered to his brother, “Yin… this is strange isn’t it? It feels like we’ve known them longer than just a few days.”

  “Yeah,” Yin replied softly. “Before this, it was just us. But with them… it feels like we’re part of something bigger.”

  “You think we can trust them?” Yang asked.

  Yin looked up. “I think we already do.”

  After that, Li Yi leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “This is the perfect mood for some music. If only we had someone who could play...”

  Her tone was teasing—but hopeful.

  Yang answered without thinking. “Oh, perfect! Yin can play us something on his flute.”

  Yin immediately pressed a palm to his forehead, already regretting ever letting his brother know about the dizi. “Seriously, Yang?”

  Li Yi’s eyes lit up. “Wait, really? Yin, you know how to play?”

  All eyes turned toward him now. Even Wang Hua’s gaze was fixed on him, her tone soft but suspicious.

  “Yeah, why don’t you play us something, Yin?”

  Yin tried to wave it off. “I’m really not that good. I’d only disappoint you.”

  Yang shook his head. “Not good? What are you talking about? You’re better than good—you’re basically a genius.”

  Li Yi leaned closer, her expression playful but warm. “Come on, Yin. You won’t play something for us?”

  Yin glanced around the circle—at Siming, at Zhongkan, at Fang, at Wang Hua. They were all waiting.

  Yin sighed, realizing there was no way out. He reached into his pack, pulled out the dizi, and ran his fingers gently across the polished bamboo surface.

  Yin brought the dizi to his lips and closed his eyes.

  At first—only a breath.

  Then, a single note. Soft and low, like morning mist rising off a quiet stream.

  It wasn't the melody from the courtyard. This song was something new.

  Gentle.

  Curious.

  Hopeful.

  Each note unfurled slowly, like petals touched by sunlight. There was no sorrow in it—only warmth. The warmth of crackling firelight, of laughter shared between strangers who no longer felt so strange.

  The melody rose and fell like conversation, like old stories retold by a fire. It danced playfully at moments—teasing like Yang’s energy—then settled into something deeper, steadier, like the firm presence of Li Yi’s voice or the quiet strength in Yin Zhongkan’s gaze.

  It was a song of firsts.

  First comfort.

  First trust.

  First home away from home.

  And somehow, it spoke to them all—even if they didn’t realize why.

  The flicker of smiles returned. Shoulders eased. Even the cold wind seemed to hush for a while, as if listening, too.

  And at the heart of it all—Yin.

  Playing not to impress. Not to perform.

  But to say something he hadn’t yet found the words for:

  I’m grateful.

  I’m no longer alone.

  I want this journey to matter.

  The camp quieted.

  Even the crackle of the fire seemed to hush.

  And Wang Hua—froze.

  Her smile faded—not in offense, but in something far more vulnerable. Her gaze snapped to Yin, eyes wide but distant, as if she were seeing him from another time, another place.

  She didn’t say anything.

  Didn’t tease.

  Didn’t smirk.

  She simply stared. That same tone… that same emotion…

  Her hand tightened slightly at her side.

  Was it really him?

  As Yin finished playing, the final note lingered in the air like a whisper. The fire crackled softly, but no one spoke at first.

  Yang, of course, broke the silence. “See? What did I tell you? Genius.”

  Li Yi sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Tch. You little fox… You’re not allowed to hit us with that kind of song out of nowhere.”

  Yin blinked. “Little fox?”

  “That’s my new name for you. It fits,” she said with a grin. “Quiet. Cunning. Shows up all soft and sad-eyed, then suddenly steals the whole camp’s heart when no one’s looking.”

  The warmth of Yin’s flute still lingered in the air, a comfort that wrapped gently around the firelight and softened even the snow-dusted wind. For the first time since the campaign began, the squad had smiled together, laughed together, felt like something more than soldiers.

  But peace… rarely lasts long on the road to war.

  As the laughter faded, the camp settled into a soft rhythm of rest. The flames crackled, and the wind rustled the trees beyond.

  An Lushan stared into the fire.

  Then, slowly, his eyes narrowed.

  He tilted his head—not toward a sound, but toward a feeling.

  A ripple.

  Wang Xuance, standing just a few paces behind, paused mid-step. His hands folded behind his back as he too glanced toward the shadows at the treeline.

  Neither man spoke.

  But their gazes met—and held.

  They had both felt it.

  A tremor in the Qi.

  Like a drop of ink in still water. Subtle. But unnatural.

  Something was wrong.

  Then—

  “Unnghh…”

  A low groan echoed from the darkness beyond the firelight.

  At first, some thought it was just the wind.

  But it came again—closer.

  Liu Fang stood, eyes narrowing toward the tree line. “Did you hear that?”

  Yin Zhongkan was already moving, hand resting calmly on his blade. “Not wind.”

  A shape stumbled out from the trees.

  A man—no, a soldier. His face pale, his armor cracked and slashed. One arm hung uselessly at his side, and his steps were wild, like he couldn’t tell which direction was real.

  The squad rushed to him, but it was Lu Yang who caught him first.

  The man collapsed into his arms, blood soaking through his uniform.

  “Help—” the man wheezed, eyes unfocused. “They’re… coming…”

  Li Yi dropped beside him, pressing her hands to his wounds. “Stay with me—tell us what happened. Who’s coming?”

  He coughed, then hissed through clenched teeth. “Too fast… not bandits—not normal—they knew the patrol routes… waited in the trees…”

  Wang Xuance’s expression darkened. “You’re from the outpost at the ridge, aren’t you?”

  The soldier nodded, barely.

  “They were waiting for us… they knew…”

  His gaze drifted to Yin—desperate, confused.

  “They knew you’d be coming…”

  And then—

  His breath stopped.

  The camp fell silent.

  Li Yi checked for a pulse, then slowly shook her head. “He’s gone.”

  The warmth of the fire no longer felt comforting.

  It felt exposed.

  An eerie stillness crept in again—but it wasn’t peace.

  It was warning.

  Zhongkan stood slowly, eyes sharp on the darkness beyond. “If they tracked him here, they could be close.”

  “Or watching us already,” Shi Siming muttered, his fingers flexing near his blade.

  A distant caw echoed into the night—a lone crow perched in a crooked tree just beyond camp.

  Its wings spread.

  It flew off into the dark.

  Wang Xuance’s voice dropped into something grim. “Get everyone ready now. We may not have until morning.”

  An Lushan crossed his arms. “No more music. No more rest. The quiet is over.”

  Yin looked out into the night… and for the first time since the journey began,

  he felt the cold not just in the air—

  but in his bones.