Chapter 325: We Are All Protectors

After discussing everything, Shao Yao hadn't arrived yet. Hua Pingyang, ever the reliable one, decided to take matters into his own hands and wheeled Hua Zi back to her room. As they reached the door, Hua Zi, stubborn as ever, tried to push herself upright and cross the threshold on her own. But Hua Pingyang wasn’t having any of it. He clamped a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her dead in her tracks. No way was he letting her do it, and no way was he dragging his injured older brother into this mess, either. Instead, he signaled for their second brother to come over, and the two of them lifted the wheelchair over the threshold.

At first, Hua Zi felt a pang of awkwardness—a hot rush of shame creeping up her neck. But then it hit her: Hell, I broke my body for these people. The least they can do is push me over a damn doorframe. If she acted all high and mighty and refused their help, it’d just make things weird. Worse, it’d drive a wedge between them. No, better to let them play the hero, stroke their egos a little.

Everybody wins.

With that in mind, she loosened up, cracked a small, knowing smile at her second uncle, and let her fourth uncle take the reins, wheeling her back to her room without a fuss.

Outside, the night at Yingshan Pass was deliciously mild—not too hot, not too cold. The moonlight spilled across the courtyard, painting long, exaggerated shadows across the ground. Even the kid trailing behind them looked taller in the silver glow, though Hua Pingyang could only rub his temples at the sight of him.

Seeing the child, Hua Pingyang's head throbbed. "Don't spoil him too much. How can you always let him sleep in your room?"

"He's still young. Even if we don't share a bed, we have to wait until he's seven." Hua Zi replied softly, "His only relative entrusted him to me before passing away. I am the only person he recognizes. Once this period of insecurity passes, it will be fine."

“Why do you always take it all on yourself?” Hua Pingyang shot back, his frustration cutting through the night air.

She fixed him with a cool, unflinching gaze. “Because if I don’t, who will? Without me, the Huas would’ve crumbled to dust a long time ago. That night, when everything was falling apart, I didn’t have the luxury of saying no. If I hadn’t stepped up, we’d all be six feet under by now. And today, if I don’t keep holding it all together, Zeng Han would probably throw himself off a cliff. When, exactly, have I ever been given a choice?”

Indeed, when has she ever had a choice?

The more capable you are, the more the world piles on your shoulders. Hua Pingyang sighed, his expression softening as he reached out to pat her shoulder. “You’re right. I misspoke. Without the court backing us, the Huas are just a bunch of useless scholars scribbling away in their books. You’re the only reason we’re still standing.”

"Who says a general needs a title to lead a charge? Or a scholar needs a position to wield a pen? Look at my father—he’s practically a goddamn famous now! Women are practically brawling to wash his damn undergarments." Hua Zhi chuckled, "If my mother found out that women are fighting to wash my father's undergarments, he would definitely be in a pickle when he returns."

Hua Pingyang chuckled at the memory. "Oh, she'd roast him alive. Your mother doesn’t play." He leaned back, recalling a ridiculous scene. "Remember when my eldest brother became a teacher? One day, after a bath, he walked out with a basin of clothes. Before he could blink, some woman snatched his underwear like it was a prized trophy. All we saw was the hem flapping in the breeze as she bolted, shouting something about returning it clean. He couldn’t even chase her down—just stood there, humiliated, stamping his feet like a fool. It was comedy gold."

"After that," he added, laughing, "the poor guy made sure to wash his own clothes every damn time, no exceptions."

Seeing that their uncle's mood was no longer so low, Hua Zhi redirected the conversation, "Uncle, do you all think I'm particularly capable?"

Hua Pingyang snorted, giving her a knowing nod. "Who in their right mind would say otherwise?"

Hua Zhi sighed, her smirk fading into a bitter smile. "It’s not genius—it’s desperation."

They had reached the doorway. Hua Pingyang stopped pushing her wheelchair and stepped in front of her, studying the shadow of frustration etched across her face.

"I'm not really that capable. Even if I know a few things, I'm far from being an expert. But what choice do I have? When there’s no safety net, no one to lean on except yourself, and someone who depends on you to survive, you either sink or grow claws to climb out. That’s the truth. Push hard enough, and you’ll find strength you didn’t know existed. Human potential doesn’t have limits—it’s just waiting for the right amount of desperation to unlock it. Even the impossible becomes possible when survival is the only option. What you don't know, you will learn."

She was no stranger to martial arts, but the first time she clashed with an enemy at Zhuangzi, her pampered, soft-bred body betrayed her. She moved like someone still half-asleep, her reflexes sluggish, her precision off. Worst of all? She didn’t have the guts to kill. Sure, she’d learned a thing or two about self-defense in the safety of peacetime, but self-defense and survival were leagues apart. That day, she forced herself to go savage, running on sheer bloody-minded determination to scrape by.

Afterward, she swore never to be caught so unprepared again. She trained her body like her life depended on it—because it did. But whether it was at Zhengyang or here again now, she clung to the same brutal tactic: trade pain for victory. She fought like a wild animal cornered, taking blows just to deliver killing strikes. No retreat, no mercy. It was a vicious, desperate strategy, forcing her hand to aim for the jugular every single time.

Looking back, she couldn’t even pinpoint when she’d crossed the line from human to ruthless. Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped flinching at the idea of taking a life. Maybe she was nearing that dark edge where life—hers or anyone else’s—was just another expendable resource.

Hua Zhi let out a bitter chuckle, beckoning Zeng Han over from where he leaned against the doorframe. She ruffled his hair like he was still a kid and said, almost casually, “You’ll end up like this too, you know. One day, you’ll wake up and realize you’ve picked it all up—how to survive, how to kill, how to grow a heart so cold it doesn’t even feel like yours anymore.”

She tilted her head back, her smile tinged with both resignation and pride. “Because if you don’t, the people behind you won’t make it. And someone has to make sure they live, no matter what it costs.”

Hua Pingyang stood there, trembling slightly, his lips parting and closing as if to say something, but no words came out. He knew she was right. None of them had chosen this life. Who would willingly trade softness for sharp edges, grow thorns so thick they couldn’t feel anymore, if they didn’t have to?

“So don’t you dare think you’re useless, Uncle. And don’t act like you owe me anything.” Hua Zhi smiled—a sharp, unwavering thing that left no room for argument. “We’re all standing in the same place now. Protectors, every one of us.”

"I understand." Hua Pingyang murmured, his voice shaky but his shoulders lighter. She knew. Zhi’er knew everything. Knew how useless they felt, how ashamed they were of leaning on her, how they couldn’t even look her in the eye most days. And this wasn’t just for him—it was a message for every single man left in the Hua family.

“We all understand,” he said quietly.

For a moment, Hua Zhi stood there, stunned into silence. Then she smiled faintly, almost as if to herself, and turned away. “I’m heading in. Rest well,” she said, disappearing inside.

From the shadows, Shao Yao stepped out, flashing a sly grin at Hua Pingyang. Without a word, she scooped up Zeng Han and his wheelchair, carrying him over the threshold like it was nothing. Zeng Han followed her in, and the door slammed shut behind them.

In the dim corridor, the rest of the Hua family began to emerge one by one, their faces unreadable, their footsteps heavy.

*

Inside the room, Hua Zhi instructed Shao Yao to make the bed. For the past few days, Zeng Han had been sleeping under her bed.

Zeng Han never initiated conversations, but he would respond if asked and always stayed where he could see Hua Zhi. Hua Zhi neither actively approached nor distanced herself from him, treating him like an ordinary child in the family.

But she noticed things. She’d toss a little conversation his way now and then, maybe make him a crude little toy when she was bored. If she had a drink, she’d hand it over without a second thought. At meals, she'd casually tell him to slow down, then shove a leafy green in his direction when all he wanted was meat. She talked to him when there was time to kill, filling the silence in her no-nonsense way.

Now, Hua Zhi pulled him over and casually asked, "Did you understand the game they were playing with Sister Shao Yao and the others today?"

Zeng Han's dark eyes brightened, "Understood."

Shao Yao froze mid-tuck, shooting Hua Zhi a look. Hua Zhi cocked an eyebrow, unsure if he was bluffing or if he actually got it. Testing the waters, she asked, “You wanna go play with them? Join the fun, see what it’s like?”

His nod came fast, almost too eager. For the first time, the quiet kid under the bed looked like he wanted something.

———TN: Man, I bawled my eyes out when Hua Zhi went off, pouring her heart out to her 4th uncle. The way she laid it all out—raw, messy, and gut-wrenching—it hit me like a punch to the chest. That scene? Pure emotional.