Tang Wulin woke up to the sound of someone yelling his name.
"WULIN!"
He jolted upright so fast he headbutted his pillow, which did absolutely nothing to save him from the chaos waiting outside his door.
"WULIN, IF YOU'RE NOT UP IN TEN SECONDS—!"
"I'm awake!" he shouted back, scrambling out of bed like a frantic crab.
He tripped over his blanket, kicked a shoe across the room, and somehow managed to collide with his own desk.
A muffled thump echoed.
Tang Ziran's voice followed immediately:
"…Son, did you just lose a fight with your furniture?"
"I—I meant to do that!"
"Of course you did."
Wulin staggered to the door, hair sticking out in seventeen different directions, eyes still half-asleep.
His mother, Lang Yue, stood in the doorway with a wooden spoon in hand — the ultimate weapon of parental authority.
"Breakfast is ready," she said sternly.Then her expression softened. "And fix your hair, sweetheart."
Wulin tried to flatten it. It got worse.
Lang Yue sighed and patted his head gently.
"Just… wash your face."
As he followed her out, he paused at the window.
The morning sky looked normal — bright, blue, calm — except for a faint streak of violet light far beyond the sea. It flickered like a crack in the horizon.
Wulin blinked.
"…Weird."
"What's weird?" Lang Yue asked without turning.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just the sky being dramatic."
"It does that sometimes," she said casually. "Come eat."
Wulin tore his eyes away and hurried to the kitchen.
Some part of him felt like the sky hadn't always been like that.But he was six. And six-year-olds did not question the sky.They questioned why breakfast didn't taste like dessert.
He slid into his seat.
"What's for breakfast?"
"Porridge," Tang Ziran replied.
Wulin stared at him.
"…Why not noodles?"
"Because it's morning."
"That's a terrible reason."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Wulin pouted, stuffed a spoonful into his mouth, and immediately brightened.
"…Okay, it's good."
Lang Yue kissed the top of his head."Finish eating, then your father has something for you to do."
Tang Ziran raised an eyebrow."It's a simple task, don't make it complicated."
Wulin nodded eagerly.
The morning sun crept slowly across Eastsea City, painting the rooftops in soft gold and warming the salty sea air. Waves slapped lazily against the docks as fishing boats rocked in the tide, ropes creaking like sleepy old men refusing to get out of bed.
Standing at the edge of the pier, he stared down at the water like it held the secrets of the universe.
"Why does seaweed look so… dangerous?"
Tang Ziran rubbed his temples.
"It's seaweed, Wulin. Not a monster."
Wulin puffed his chest.
"That's exactly what a monster would want you to think."
Tang Wulin stood at the edge of the pier, bucket in hand, staring down into the water with fierce determination.
His father watched from a few steps back, arms crossed, already tired.
"Wulin," Tang Ziran sighed, "it's seaweed. Just pick it up and put it in the bucket. It's not a boss battle."
Wulin puffed up his cheeks. "You don't understand, Dad! This is high-level gathering! Extremely technical!"
Tang Ziran rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You're six."
"And six-year-olds can be tactical geniuses!" Wulin declared proudly.
He leaned forward dramatically—too dramatically—and lost his balance.
Splash.
Tang Ziran didn't even flinch. He simply stared down at the surface of the water where bubbles rose.
A small head popped back up a moment later, hair plastered to his forehead, face bright red.
"I meant to do that!" Wulin sputtered.
"Of course you did." Ziran reached out a hand. "Come here, tactical genius."
Wulin grabbed his father's hand and was hoisted up like a soggy bundle of laundry. Water dripped everywhere, including directly into Ziran's boots.
"…Great," Ziran muttered. "Exactly what I wanted today. Wet socks."
Wulin tried to wring out his shirt. It made a sad shlorp sound.
"Mom's gonna scold me again, isn't she?" he said quietly.
"Without a doubt," Ziran replied.
.
.
.
Back at home — a tiny apartment above a noodle shop — Lang Yue stood with her hands on her hips, eyebrows arched dangerously.
"Explain," she said.
Wulin pointed at his father. "Dad said we needed fresh seaweed!"
Tang Ziran blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You did say it!"
"I didn't say jump headfirst into the ocean like a suicidal carp!"
Lang Yue pinched the bridge of her nose.
"You two," she said, voice flat but trembling with fury, "are hopeless."
Wulin bowed his head in shame.
"I tried my best," he mumbled.
Lang Yue's icy expression cracked instantly.
She sighed and kneaded his damp hair affectionately.
"I know you did," she said softly. "But next time, try your best without drowning yourself. I'd really appreciate that."
"Okay…" Wulin whispered.
"And you," Lang Yue turned to Ziran. "What possessed you to let him jump?"
"I DIDN'T LET HIM—!" Ziran began.
"Did you stop him?"
Ziran opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"…No."
"Then you let him."
"Your logic is terrifying."
"Thank you."
.
They ate breakfast together — simple rice porridge and pickled vegetables. Wulin inhaled his portion like a starving beast.
Lang Yue watched him with an amused smile.
"Slow down. No one's stealing it."
Wulin nodded, then continued inhaling it at the exact same speed.
Tang Ziran shook his head. "This child eats like we've been starving him."
Lang Yue sipped her tea. "At least he has enthusiasm."
"That's one word for it."
Wulin looked between them, cheeks puffed with food.
"Hrrmph frmmly?"
Both parents stared.
"Swallow first," they said in unison.
He gulped.
"Can we go get some Ice cream after breakfast?"
Wulin asked with sparkling Eyes.
Ziran leaned back, thoughtful.
"Sure, why not," he said. "But finish first. And don't rush it."
Wulin grinned wide. "Alright"
After breakfast, Wulin walked with his parents through the streets, watching fishing boats pull away from the shore, tiny against vast waves. The sky stretched endlessly overhead — clear, bright, peaceful.
But in the distance, beyond the horizon, clouds were gathering — heavy and unnaturally still, like a wound in the sky holding its breath.
He stared for a long moment.
"Dad?" he said quietly. "Why does the sky look strange lately?"
Tang Ziran followed his gaze and frowned.
"…Storms," he said simply. "They've been becoming more frequent."
Lang Yue put a hand on Wulin's shoulder.
"Don't worry," she said. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together."
Wulin relaxed and smiled.
"Okay."
He believed her completely.
He believed the world would always stay warm like this.
.
.
.
The sun was beginning to set when Tang Wulin returned to the docks with his parents, his clothes finally clean and his pride only slightly damaged after he stumbled over his own feet falling face down somehow crushing his ice cream cone underneath his body.
As they turned the corner toward their home, a sharp thwack! echoed through the street.
"OW—! Xinglan, stop hitting me!"
Another thwack! followed immediately.
"When I told you to train," a girl's voice snapped, "I meant train your sword technique, not your talent for running away like a terrified chicken!"
"I wasn't running! I was tactically retreating!"
"Then tactically stop screaming!"
Wulin blinked. Further ahead, a small girl stood in the street, wielding a wooden practice sword with frightening precision. She couldn't have been more than a year older than him — long blonde hair tied loosely behind her head, her green eyes sharp and focused like a hawk watching prey.
At her feet sat a trembling boy nursing a new bruise.
Wulin whispered to his dad, "Should we… save him?"
Tang Ziran put a hand on his shoulder. "No. This is a learning opportunity."
"Learning what?"
"Never make that girl angry."
Wulin gulped.
Just then the girl turned, noticing them.
Her eyes locked onto Wulin immediately, narrowing slightly — assessing, evaluating… intimidating.
Wulin froze like a deer about to get flattened by an airship.
Then she walked straight up to him and stared him down.
As the bruised boy ran away.
Wulin tried to look brave.
He failed.
"Y-You're very good with a sword," he squeaked.
She didn't smile. Instead, she poked him in the forehead with the wooden sword.
"You flinched," she declared.
"I did not!"
"You blinked three times in a row."
"That's a normal biological function!"
She stepped back, expression unchanging.
"You're weird."
Wulin puffed up. "You're scary!"
"Good. Then you won't do anything stupid around me."
Tang Ziran nodded approvingly. "Wise girl."
Lang Yue patted Wulin's back sympathetically.
"Looks like you made a friend."
"A friend?!" Wulin sputtered. "She attacked my face!"
Ye Xinglan tilted her head. "If I attacked your face, you'd be on the ground."
Wulin's mouth fell open.
She looked him straight in the eyes.
"Smile more," she said suddenly.
"It suits you better than looking like a startled goldfish."
Ye Xinglan took two steps before pausing.She glanced back over her shoulder, eyes narrowing again — not in anger this time, but in calculation.
"Hey," she said.
Wulin straightened like he was about to be drafted into the army."Y-Yes?"
She pointed her wooden sword at the crushed ice cream still smeared on his shirt.
"Did you fall," she asked slowly, "or did the ice cream attack you?"
Tang Ziran choked. Lang Yue covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Wulin's ears turned red.
"It was an ambush," he muttered. "Very sneaky ice cream."
Xinglan stared.
Then — maybe Wulin imagined it — her lips twitched.Barely. Like a secret smile escaped and she tried to kill it before anyone noticed.
"Next time," she said, "don't lose to desserts."
Wulin bristled. "I wasn't losing! I tripped!"
"So you lost to gravity?"
"That's different!"
She walked closer again, and Wulin froze.She leaned down ever so slightly, peering into his eyes with that unsettling hawk-like intensity.
"You really are weird," she said.
Wulin opened his mouth to protest, but she continued:
"…But you don't look bad when you're trying your best."
He stopped.
Even Tang Ziran blinked at that one.
Xinglan straightened, turning her wooden sword over in her hands as if evaluating him like a training dummy.
"Fine," she declared. "From now on, I'll make sure you don't embarrass yourself in public."
Wulin sputtered. "Wh-Why?!"
"Because," she said simply, "someone has to."
Then she held out her hand.
Wulin stared at it, confused.
"It means we're friends, goldfish," she said with a sigh. "You're supposed to shake it."
He hesitated… then placed his small hand in hers.
Her grip was surprisingly warm.
"Rule number one," she said, shaking his hand firmly, "if you fall, get back up."
Wulin blinked.
"Rule number two: when you're scared, smile. It helps."
That line hit him harder than any wooden sword.
She stepped back, letting go.
"See you tomorrow," she said — and with perfect confidence, she strode off down the street, wooden sword resting on her shoulder like she owned the whole city.
Wulin watched her go, mouth slightly open.
Tang Ziran whispered to Lang Yue, "She's terrifying. I love her."
Lang Yue nodded. "Adorable. But terrifying."
Wulin finally found his voice.
"…Did I just get recruited?"
"Yes," both parents said at once.
He groaned into his hands.
"Why is my life like this…"