From the moment he entered the Divine General’s Residence until now, no one had asked his name. Yet he showed no sign of anger or humiliation; whether facing the lady of the house or Emily, he remained impeccably polite, never lacking in courtesy, even seeming a bit reserved. Strangely, however, those who made him uncomfortable always ended up feeling even more uncomfortable than he did.

It wasn’t that he was particularly skilled at making others uncomfortable, but rather that he was earnestly doing what he believed he ought to do. Whether it was breaking off an engagement or changing his mind, he was utterly convinced he was right—so much so that it was hard for others to refute him. As a result, those who made him uncomfortable would ultimately find themselves too frustrated to be happy.

Emily had grown up in the Divine General’s Residence and, thanks to the young lady, held a very high status. Even the Divine General and his wife rarely spoke harshly to her, and she had never encountered anyone like Ethan Brooks before. She was unaccustomed to this feeling, and an uneasy emotion arose in her subconsciously. Not knowing whether she was trying to convince Ethan Brooks or herself, she strengthened her tone and said,

“Across the entire continent, only my young lady possesses the true blood of the phoenix—she is one of a kind!”

“My senior brother once wrote something in his notes that I’ve always found very meaningful. I’d like to share it with you now, and hope you’ll reflect on it in the future. He said: ‘Every person in this world is one of a kind.’”

Ethan Brooks looked at her and said earnestly.

……

……

At the end of the long street stood a simple stone arch bridge. Beneath it was not the Luo River, but an inconspicuous little stream. Ethan Brooks walked onto the bridge and looked back toward the direction of the General’s Residence. That area was peaceful, yet not lacking in prosperity; among countless grand mansions and beautiful courtyards, the Xu Residence was the most prominent and distinguished. He couldn’t help but shake his head.

After arriving in the capital, he hadn’t visited any scenic spots, nor had he rushed to the Heavenly Book Mausoleum. Instead, he had washed up briefly by the Luo River and gone straight to the General’s Residence—he was there to break off the engagement. He was truly anxious: if he married the general’s daughter and his illness couldn’t be cured, why drag her down with him? Even if it could be cured, it would likely take many years.

He didn’t want to waste her youth, but he hadn’t expected to be met with those cold stares, that contempt, that ridicule in the Xu Residence. Looking back now, after he turned ten, the temple had stopped receiving gifts from the other side, and all contact had ceased—clearly, they had long intended to break off the engagement. His coming to the capital today to end the engagement should have been a natural, mutually agreeable matter, but he hadn’t expected such a scene, and so he changed his mind on the spot.

He had never cultivated, nor was he a Daoist priest, but he had studied the Daoist Canon since childhood and was deeply influenced by it. Coupled with his own bleak fate, among the three thousand paths of the Dao, he sought only to follow his heart—in other words, to have a clear conscience. Traveling all this way to the capital to break off the engagement was following his heart. Not breaking it off was also following his heart—the Divine General’s Residence had been rude, so he didn’t want to let them have their way—because if he did, his own heart would not be at ease.

Of course, up to now, Ethan Brooks only wanted to make the general’s wife, who hid her coldness behind a kindly face, and that maid who only ever looked at the sky, feel anxious. In a few days, he would naturally return the marriage contract to them. After all, a person’s life is of utmost importance, and the happiness of Miss Xu was far more important than the cold reception and disdain he had suffered—he still believed this.

Still, it was all rather unpleasant. Sometimes, Ethan Brooks even forgot that he was only a fourteen-year-old boy, but in the end, he was still a youth, with his own pride and dignity, and being humiliated inevitably stirred his emotions.

He walked down from the stone bridge, bought two sesame flatbreads from a street vendor, and squatted on a stone slab by the stream, gnawing on the bread while gazing at the distant Divine General’s Residence, a faint sourness in his heart. He knew where this feeling came from, but he also knew that if he let it run wild, it would harm his health and do nothing to help resolve the matter.

On the distant surface of the Luo River, sails clustered like clouds. On the long street across the river, there were wolf riders from the West; even from afar, it seemed one could smell the stench from the mouths of those giant wolves. Shadows drifted across the water; looking up, he saw a pegasus with snow-white wings pulling a magnificent chariot northward. At the city wall’s arrow towers in the distance, red hawks responsible for military communications took off and landed repeatedly. Even farther, in the blue sky, flying chariots of the city patrol circled in all directions, looking just like those annoying dragonflies outside the temple…

This was the capital of the Great Zhou Dynasty, filled with wondrous sights unimaginable to rural folk. Ethan Brooks gnawed on his flatbread, eyes wide with curiosity, eagerly taking in these scenes and comparing them to what he’d read in the Daoist Canon. He wondered when he might see those legendary magical creatures—like the spirit turtle in the Detached Palace that had borne a stone pillar for over three thousand years. He wondered if the palace still housed those fabled, supremely noble and majestic dragons. It was said that the rarest and most exalted golden dragons hadn’t appeared in the mortal world for tens of thousands of years—would he ever have the chance to see one? And then there was the legendary phoenix…