Hearing Wen Lan's words, both Yūhi Kurenai and Mitarashi Anko were momentarily stunned.
Wen Lan said nothing more and turned to leave.
Kurenai watched his departing back, her expression complicated.
Anko, on the other hand, had stars in her eyes.
"Wow! 'Forgiving him is the Sage of Six Paths' business—my business is sending him to meet the Sage of Six Paths!' That line is insanely cool! I'm writing it down—definitely gonna use it someday!"
Kurenai, however, continued staring at Wen Lan's retreating figure, lost in thought.
Seeing that Kurenai didn't respond, Anko asked curiously, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Kurenai shook her head. "I just think my father was right. The Uchiha are deeply emotional—but also very extreme."
"Extreme?" Anko crossed her arms. "Seems fine to me. If anyone dared attack me, I'd beat them until they couldn't take care of themselves!"
When Wen Lan returned to the Uchiha district, he happened to see a squad arriving at the entrance.
At the front were Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Itachi, and several clan members.
Yet aside from the Uchiha themselves, there was no one there to welcome them.
Wen Lan couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head.
"Even civilians' prejudice against the Uchiha runs this deep. A combat unit returns, and there isn't even a greeting."
Fugaku noticed Wen Lan and gave him a slight nod.
Wen Lan stepped forward. "Clan Head."
"Senior!"
Uchiha Itachi bowed to Wen Lan.
At this time, Itachi had not yet graduated from the Ninja Academy, while Wen Lan already had—so calling him senior was appropriate.
Wen Lan nodded lightly, his gaze passing over the fatigue on Fugaku's face.
"Was the mission successful?"
Fugaku nodded. "The battlefield in the Land of Grass is basically finished. Leaving some Konoha ninja there is enough, so we came back."
As he spoke, a trace of weariness—and self-mockery—flickered in his eyes.
When it came to slaughter, the Uchiha charged at the very front.
When victory was close, the Uchiha were pulled back.
Ask why?
You Uchiha contributed, sure—but not that much.
"Come to my place for dinner tonight," Fugaku said, then walked inside.
Wen Lan watched Fugaku's back, his gaze sinking.
The Land of Grass was one of the battlefields between Konoha and Iwagakure. The Uchiha had earned tremendous merit there—yet those achievements were deliberately downplayed.
"Sigh…"
Wen Lan sighed, then turned to Itachi with a small smile.
"So, Itachi—how did it feel, going to the battlefield this time?"
"I don't understand," Itachi shook his head gently.
"Why must there be fighting? Can't problems and conflicts be solved in easier ways?"
"This is human nature," Wen Lan said slowly, his left hand resting on his sword hilt.
"Itachi, you say villages need war to resolve conflicts."
"Then let me ask you—have you ever been to the Police Force headquarters? Among people fighting over trivial matters there, are there many?"
"There are," Itachi nodded.
"They're all small issues," Wen Lan continued.
"So why don't they resolve them in simple ways?"
"I don't know," Itachi answered honestly.
"Good," Wen Lan smiled and patted his shoulder.
"Because I don't know either."
"As a child, don't burden yourself too much. When the sky falls, the tall ones hold it up. Even if you want to help, you can't reach it yet."
Wen Lan spoke obliquely—but Itachi was a smart child. He immediately understood.
Looking toward the sunlight in the distance, worry surfaced in Itachi's eyes.
"Senior… do you think the village's future will be better?"
Wen Lan was a little surprised. He hadn't expected such a question from someone so young.
After a moment of silence, he said slowly,
"The future is walked into existence."
"Whether the village becomes better depends on the village's attitude, not ours."
"Remember this—if one day the Uchiha truly rebel against Konoha, it will be because Konoha forced them to."
"Can't we coexist peacefully?"
Itachi clenched his fists, confusion written across his face.
"Yes," Wen Lan replied, meeting Itachi's gaze.
"But only if the village stops suppressing us."
"Let me ask you a question."
"On the open sea, there are two ships. One has two hundred people, the other three hundred. Both ships are taking on water."
"You are the only person who can repair a ship—and you can only fix one. When you finish, the other ship will sink completely."
"Which one do you save?"
"I…"
Itachi hesitated, then after a moment of silence:
"I save the one with three hundred people."
"Good. Next question."
Wen Lan continued calmly.
"You repair the ship, and it sails on. But not long after, it breaks again—this time, beyond repair."
"There is a lifeboat that can save one hundred people."
"Do you abandon the remaining two hundred?"
Itachi fell silent for a long time. The firmness in his eyes slowly turned into struggle.
"I… can't answer."
Wen Lan sighed softly, his tone still calm.
"That's reality. There is no absolute right or wrong—only choices and consequences."
He paused, then went on.
"The village is like that ship. Konoha's strength can't hide its cracks. The Uchiha are part of the ship—but we can't just watch it sink."
Itachi looked up, hesitation flickering in his eyes.
"So, Senior… you mean we must make a choice?"
"Yes—and no," Wen Lan said.
"We repair the ship to save more people, not to sacrifice someone."
"But repairing doesn't mean blind sacrifice, nor does it mean bottomless compromise."
"The village has already come to see the Uchiha's sacrifices as a given, while continuing to suppress us."
"We're not opposing the village—we're opposing those at the top."
Itachi frowned. He seemed to understand—yet felt even more confused.
Wen Lan glanced at him, his voice gentler.
"You already have an answer in your heart. It's just not clear yet."
He patted Itachi's shoulder and walked away.
Sunlight bathed the village. Itachi stood there, his shadow stretching long across the ground as he stared blankly at the Hokage Rock in the distance.
Back in his courtyard, Wen Lan began his day's training.
First—ten thousand sword swings.
Second—training Flame Breathing.
He gripped his ninja blade and began to swing.
Once…
Twice…
Ten times…
A hundred times…
With every swing, he circulated the Breathing Technique of Flame, driving it through his body without pause.
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