Chapter 14: A Quiet Morning
He was pretty sure he had died after the last battle. Everything hurt in that distant, muffled way that suggested his body was no longer his problem.
There was no light, no tunnel, no deceased relatives waiting to greet him—just a vast, formless darkness and the vague sensation of having been trampled by something very large.
Is this heaven? he wondered dimly. It's a lot less... golden than I expected. And it still smells like mud.
Somewhere in the darkness, a voice was talking. A familiar voice, rambling and theatrical, the cadence rising and falling in a pattern Wei had known his whole life. Hao. Hao was here too. Which meant—
Oh no.
"—and then the absolute bastard threw another rock! A rock! Like I was some kind of garden pest! I'm telling you, if I ever see that specific goblin again, I'm going to personally—"
Hao is here. Hao is dead too. I failed. I failed and Hao died and now we're both—
He forced his eyes open. The light was blinding, pale gold and painful, and for a moment all he could see was a blurry shape hovering above him. The shape resolved slowly, painfully, into a face. A face with a bandage wrapped around its forehead and a bruise spreading across its jaw.
Hao's face.
"Oh fuck," Wei croaked. "I'm in hell after all."
The blurry face above him froze mid-sentence. Then it split into a massive, slightly manic grin.
"He's awake! Uncle, he's awake! And he just said fuck!"
"Hao." Wei's voice was barely a whisper, scraping out of his throat like gravel. He tried to lift his hand, failed, tried again. His fingers found Hao's sleeve and gripped it with what little strength he had. "Hao, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Hao's grin faltered. "What? What are you—"
"I couldn't protect you." The words were tumbling out now, raw and broken. "I couldn't protect any of you. The hobgoblin—I heard Li scream and I froze, and it hit me, and I couldn't—I wasn't strong enough. I should have been stronger. I should have been faster. And now you're dead and Father is dead and Li is—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hao grabbed his shoulders, gently but firmly. "Wei. Wei! Look at me. I'm not dead. Nobody's dead. Well, okay, a lot of goblins are dead, but none of us. We're all alive. Li is fine. Mother is fine. Father is—" He hesitated for just a fraction of a second. "Father is alive. He's hurt, but he's alive. Everyone is alive."
Wei stared at him. The words weren't making sense. "But you're here. If you're here, and I'm here, then we're both—"
"You're not dead, you absolute idiot." Hao's voice cracked slightly. "You're under the Tree of Life. You've been unconscious for six hours. You scared the hell out of all of us, but you're not dead. I'm not dead. Nobody's dead."
Uncle Jianguo's face appeared beside Hao's, weathered and calm. "He's telling the truth, Wei. You're alive. We all are. The battle is over. We won."
Wei's grip on Hao's sleeve didn't loosen. "But I heard Li scream. I heard her—"
"Li is fine," Uncle said. "Not a scratch. She's been up since dawn helping with the animals. Your father took a hit meant for her, but he's stable now. Recovering. Your mother is with him."
"The goblins—"
"Dead. All of them. The ones at the east gate, the ones at the breach, the hobgoblin—you killed it yourself, Wei. You cut its head off. And the ones you didn't kill, Old Wang and the Ironhide Boars took care of."
Wei's mind was struggling to catch up. The hobgoblin. The vault. The sword coming down. The goose honking. The ground shaking.
"I thought..." He swallowed hard. "I thought I failed. I thought I lost everyone."
"You didn't fail." Hao's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "You killed a hobgoblin warlord and eight strong looking ones by yourself. You almost died, but you didn't. And we didn't. We're all still here."
"Father is really alive?"
"Really alive. Grumpy as ever. Mother's been sitting with him all morning."
"And Li?"
"Li is fine. She's been worried sick about you, actually. She's going to yell at you when she sees you're awake. She's been practicing."
"And the others ?"
"All fine. Grandfather released the pigs during the battle—did we tell you that? Old Wang saved your life. Charged the elites that were about to finish you off. Sent them flying like... like those weighted dolls at festivals. Grandfather's been sitting in the pig pen all morning telling Old Wang what a hero he is."
Wei let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It came out as something between a laugh and a sob.
"I thought I was dead," he said quietly. "I thought I was dead and I'd failed all of you and this was the afterlife and Hao was here because I couldn't—"
"Yeah, well." Hao squeezed his shoulder. "Turns out the afterlife is just our farm and I'm still here to annoy you. Sorry to disappoint."
"That's not disappointing."
"It's a little disappointing. You called me 'hell.' I heard you."
"I'd just woken up. I was disoriented."
"You looked at my face and said 'oh fuck, I'm in hell.' That's going to stick with me, Wei. That's going to be one of those memories I bring up at family dinners for the next fifty years."
"Good. You need material."
"I have plenty of material! I'm a wealth of material!"
Uncle cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should let him drink some water before you two start bickering."
Hao grabbed the waterskin. "Right. Here. Song Na said if you choke to death after everything you survived, she's not signing the death certificate. She made me repeat it back to her three times."
Wei drank. The water was cool and clean, and it tasted like the blessed well, and it was the best thing he had ever tasted because it meant he was alive. He was alive, and Hao was alive, and his family was alive, and the farm was still standing.
"I'm sorry," he said again, quieter this time. "For scaring you."
"You should be." Hao's voice was gruff, but his eyes were bright. "Don't do it again."
"I'll try."
"You always say that."
"Because I always mean it."
Hao snorted. "Drink your water, you disaster. We've got a lot to tell you."
"Here." Hao shoved a waterskin at his lips. "Slowly. Song Na said if you choke to death after everything you survived, she's not signing the death certificate. Verbatim. 'If he chokes on water after surviving a hobgoblin, I will be very annoyed.' She made me repeat it three times."
The water was cool and clean, tasting of the blessed well's mineral sweetness. Wei drank in small sips, the world coming back into focus.
He was at the base of the Tree of Life. The trunk rose above him, massive and golden. A folded blanket under his head—Mother's work. It smelled like home.
Hei was pressed against his left side, his massive head on his paws, amber eyes open and watching. When Wei shifted, Hei's tail thumped once against the ground.
"Good dog," Wei croaked.
"He hasn't moved since we carried you here," Hao said. "Wouldn't even leave to eat. Mother had to bring him food. A whole bowl of blessed meat scraps, and he just stared at it until she put it right under his nose. Then he ate without looking away from you. It was creepy."
"Sounds like Hei."
"Sounds like a stubborn old bastard is what it sounds like."
Wei turned his head slowly. His neck protested. Uncle Jianguo sat on an upturned crate a few feet away, his left arm wrapped in clean bandages from elbow to wrist. A fresh cut on his forehead, already scabbed over. His spear leaned beside him. The blade was spotlessly clean.
He cleaned it, Wei realized. After everything, after the battle and the chaos, Uncle took the time to clean his weapon.
"You're awake," Uncle said. Not a question.
"Apparently." Wei winced. "How long was I out?"
"About six hours. Mid-morning now. Song Na said you'd wake up when your mana hit a certain threshold—something about the body refusing consciousness until it has enough energy to heal."
Wei's memory was jagged, full of gaps. The hobgoblin's blade. The vault. The goose. The ground shaking.
"The goblins at the breach," he said. "The four elites that were still standing when I—"
"Dealt with," Uncle said.
Hao and Uncle exchanged a glance. The kind of glance that carried weight.
"After you collapsed," Uncle continued, "the elites were closing in. Four of them. Axes raised. You were face-down in the mud. We were still on the east wall—we couldn't reach you in time."
He paused.
"Then Grandfather released the pigs."
Wei blinked. "Grandfather?"
"He was in the pig pen the whole battle," Hao said, a note of deep satisfaction creeping into his voice. "Sitting there with Old Wang, listening to the explosions and the screaming. When he heard the hobgoblin roar the first time, he figured you might need help. So he opened the gate."
"Old Wang came through the rice paddies like a battering ram," Uncle said. "The first elite didn't even see him coming. Old Wang lowered his head and charged—sent that elite flying. Literally flying, Wei. Tumbled through the air like a sack of grain. Landed twenty feet away and didn't get up."
"The second and third elites tried to form up," Hao added, grinning now. "But the Ironhide Boars came through right behind Old Wang. All six of them. Hit the elites from three sides at once."
"I saw it from the tower," Hao said. "Those elites went up like weighted dolls at a festival. And the boars just... trampled them. Stood over the bodies like they were waiting for someone to congratulate them."
"The fourth elite tried to run," Uncle finished. "The boars ran faster."
Wei stared at them. Then, despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, he laughed. A weak, broken sound, more wheeze than laugh, but real.
"The pigs. The goddamn pigs saved my life."
"Grandfather gave them extra feed this morning," Hao said. "A lot of extra feed. He's been sitting in the pig pen for two hours, talking to Old Wang about mud and rain and the nature of courage."
"He's not writing a speech."
"He's composing one mentally. You can see it in his eyes."
Wei closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing for a moment.
The panels flickered into view—familiar golden text, the system's quiet efficiency.
```
┌──────────────────────────────┐
│ COMBAT SUMMARY
├──────────────────────────────┤
│ Enemy Kills
│
│ Goblin Warriors: 35
│ Credits: 35 × 15 = 525
│ Experience: 35 × 3 = 105
│
│ Goblin Archers: 15
│ Credits: 15 × 15 = 225
│ Experience: 15 × 3 = 45
│
│ Goblin Elite Warriors: 9
│ Credits: 9 × 25 = 225
│ Experience: 9 × 6 = 54
│
│ Goblin Shamans (Corrupted): 2
│ Credits: 2 × 50 = 100
│ Experience: 2 × 20 = 40
│
│ Hobgoblin Warlord (Boss): 1
│ Credits: 100 + 50 (boss bonus) = 150
│ Experience: 80 + 50 (boss bonus) = 130
│
│ Total Credits Earned: 1,225
│ Total Experience Earned: 374
│
│ Previous Credits: 889
│ Watchtower Construction: -200
│ Credits Before Battle: 689
│ Post-Battle Credits: 1,914
│
│ Tree of Life Daily Absorption: +30
│ Wall Breach Repair: -25
│ Final Credits: 1,919
│
│ Experience: 374 + 464 = 838 / 2000
│ toward Tier 3
└──────────────────────────────┘
```
Wei stared at the numbers.
He'd never had that much at once. Never even close. The watchtowers had cost two hundred, and he'd been worried about the expense. Now he was sitting on nearly two thousand.
He let out a breath that was half laugh, half disbelief.
"I'm rich," he muttered. "I'm actually rich."
Hao leaned over. "What? What's rich? Did you find something?"
"I'm going to upgrade the wall," Wei said. "A big and strong wall. And then I'm going to buy a settlement. A proper village for the survivors"
"The survivors? Although I don't understand what you do, or how you built things anyway."
"They deserve homes, Hao. We can't let our workers sleep in the barn for weeks. Mei is pregnant. Winter's coming."
Hao nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, they do." He paused. "Can we name the village? I have ideas."
"No."
"You haven't even heard them!"
"I don't need to."
"Hao Village. Hao Town. Haoville. New Hao City—"
"Hao."
"The Kingdom of Haolandia—"
"Hao."
"Fine." Hao crossed his arms. "But I'm putting it in the suggestion box."
"We don't have a suggestion box."
"I'll build one."
Wei closed the status panel, still smiling despite the ache in his ribs. The wall was within reach. The settlement was within reach. The future was within reach.
We survived. And we're going to keep surviving. One wall at a time.
Wei shook his head, still smiling despite everything. He made a mental note to thank Grandfather properly—and to bring Old Wang a whole bucket of the good feed, not the usual scraps.
The brief levity faded as Wei's mind returned to the battle.
There was a gap in his memory, a dark space between the hobgoblin's blade and waking up. But one thing stood out, jagged and sharp.
A sound. A scream. High and terrified, cutting through the chaos. He'd heard it mid-fight, and it made him freeze, and the hobgoblin's blade caught him across the shoulder while he was distracted.
"The east gate," Wei said. His voice was quieter now. "What happened at the east gate? I heard—" He stopped. "I heard Li scream."
Hao's grin flickered. Just for a moment.
Then it was back, but thinner. More brittle.
"Yeah," Hao said. "About that. See, what happened was—Uncle here was absolutely incredible. Seriously, you should've seen it. He vaulted right off the north tower. Jumped off the top, fell fifteen feet, landed on the wall walk in a combat roll like something out of a story. And then he just started killing elites. Four of them, Wei! Four elites!"
He was talking too fast, the words tumbling over each other.
"He killed one with a spear thrust through the throat before it even saw him, and then the second one he—he did this thing where he feinted with the spear and dropped low and swept its legs out from under it—and the third one he actually grabbed a goblin warrior and used it as a shield, like an actual goblin, just grabbed it and blocked an axe with it, and then he—"
"Hao." Wei's voice was quiet but it cut through. "What happened to Li?"
"She's fine!" Hao said, too quickly. "She's totally fine. Not a scratch on her. She's been up since dawn helping with the animals. She's fine."
"Then why did she scream?"
Hao's mouth opened. Closed. He looked at Uncle.
Uncle looked back.
A silent conference. The kind of look that said we weren't supposed to tell him yet.
"She screamed," Uncle said slowly, "because an elite got onto the wall right next to her. It came up a ladder we didn't see—they had heavier ladders in reserve, reinforced with iron hooks. It was on the wall before anyone could react. It had an axe raised. Li couldn't block in time—she was off-balance, her spear was angled wrong."
"But she's fine," Hao repeated. "Not a scratch."
The relief hit Wei first—immediate and overwhelming. Li was alive. Li was unharmed.
Then the cold dread followed.
Because Li was fine. Not a scratch. So why did Uncle and Hao look at each other like that?
"Then who—" Wei started, and stopped.
The answer was already there, cold and terrible.
"Father."
The word came out flat. Not a question.
The silence that followed was answer enough.
"Where is he?" Wei was already trying to stand. His body screamed. His ribs ground. His vision flickered.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hao grabbed his shoulders. "You can't—Song Na said you need to rest, you've got three cracked ribs and a shoulder wound and mana exhaustion and—"
"I don't care what Song Na said. Where is he?"
"At the house." Uncle's voice was calm and steady. "Your mother is with him. Grandmother too. He's alive, Wei. But it was close. Very close."
"Take me to him."
"You can't walk."
"Then help me walk."
Uncle looked at him for a long moment. Whatever he saw—desperation, determination, the stubborn refusal to stay down—must have convinced him.
He stood up. Shouldered his spear. Moved to Wei's side.
Hao took the other side, still muttering. "This is a terrible idea. Song Na is going to kill us. Mother is going to kill us twice. She's going to kill us, bring us back with those potions, and then kill us again."
"Then walk faster," Wei ground out.
"You're not supposed to be walking at all! You're supposed to be unconscious!"
"I've never been good at doing what I'm supposed to."
They lifted. Wei's ribs screamed. His shoulder howled. His vision went white at the edges.
He locked his knees. Steadied himself. Took one step. Then another.
The walk across the courtyard was agonizing. Every step a negotiation between Wei's will and his body's limits.
But the farm was recovering.
Broken arrows scattered on the ground like fallen twigs. Dark stains already drying to black. A section of the east wall where the vines were torn away, thin green tendrils already weaving through the gaps.
The watchtowers had merged with the wall. Golden stone flowing through grey like rivers meeting the sea. The whole structure was a single entity now—a Gatehouse, towers rising on either side of the east gate, chest-high parapets gleaming, internal staircases spiraling up from the courtyard.
A pyre burned in the distance, smoke rising into the pale grey sky.
And people were moving. Cheng Wei inspecting the gate hinges, a hammer in hand. Bai Jun helping, moving without his cane. Song Na crossing the courtyard with clean bandages. Liu Wei carrying a bucket of water from the well.
Li met them at the door.
She was wearing a clean jacket—not the blue one, which was probably still soaked with blood. This one was brown, too big for her. Father's jacket, Wei realized. The sleeves rolled up three times.
Her eyes were red-rimmed. She'd been crying.
When she saw Wei, her expression cracked. She threw her arms around him, fierce and desperate, her face pressed against his shoulder.
"You idiot," she said, her voice muffled. "You absolute idiot. You scared me to death. I saw you collapse. I saw the boars charge and I thought—I thought you were already—"
"I'm sorry." He wrapped his good arm around her.
"Don't do it again."
"I'll try."
She pulled back, wiping her eyes with Father's sleeve. "Father's inside. He's awake now. The potions worked—the green draught fought off the poison, and the red poultice slowed the bleeding enough for Song Na to operate. She said if Grandmother hadn't brought those potions when she did..." She couldn't finish.
"But he's alive."
"Alive. Stable. Out of danger." She took a shaky breath. "But Wei—he's weak. Very weak. And Song Na said there might be—" She stopped, glanced at Uncle. "You should see him yourself."
The house was dim and cool, the windows shuttered. The main room had become a sickroom—furniture pushed back, clean cloths on the table, the smell of herbal medicine thick in the air.
Astragalus root, sharp and medicinal. Ginseng, earthy and bitter. The faint sweetness of blessed honey underneath.
Mother sat beside the kang, her hand wrapped around Father's. She looked up when Wei entered, and her face did something complicated—relief and worry and exhaustion and love all tangled together.
"Of course you're up," she said. Her voice was rough but warm. "Of course you couldn't just stay put and let yourself heal. You're exactly like your father. Stubborn as a rock and twice as hard to move."
"I wanted to see him."
"He's sleeping now. The draught makes people drowsy." She paused, her eyes moving over Wei's face. "You look terrible."
"Hao said the same thing."
"Hao looks terrible too. You all look terrible. My whole family looks like they lost a fight with a mountain." She squeezed Father's hand. "But you're all alive. That's what matters."
Wei looked past her to the kang.
Father lay on his back, propped on cushions. His chest was wrapped in clean white bandages already spotted with faint pink blooms. The bandages circled his left shoulder and continued down across his torso. His face was grey—the grey of old ash, of things that had stopped burning, of a man who had lost too much blood and was only now beginning to get it back.
But his breathing was steady. Slow and even. And along his jaw, faint green lines were still visible—the residual tracery of the Purification Draught, slowly fading as it worked through his bloodstream.
"Tell me what happened," Wei said quietly. "All of it."
Mother was silent for a moment. Her thumb moved in slow circles on the back of Father's hand.
"The elites had ladders we didn't see," she began. "Reinforced ladders with iron hooks. They'd been holding them in reserve, waiting for the right moment. When the towers went up and we started to feel confident—that was the moment they chose."
Her voice was steady, but there was an edge of cold fury beneath it.
"One of them came up on Li's left side. She was focused on the climbers in front of her. She didn't see it until it was already on the wall. Its axe was raised. She couldn't get her spear around in time."
"Father saw," Wei said.
"Your father saw. He didn't think. He didn't hesitate. He just moved. Threw himself between Li and the axe." Her voice wavered, then steadied. "The blade caught him across the left shoulder—it was meant for Li's neck, Wei. It would have killed her instantly. Your father took the blow instead."
She took a breath.
"The axe cleaved through his jacket, through the muscle, cracked his collarbone. The follow-through caught him in the side, just below the ribs. The wound went almost to his spine."
Wei closed his eyes. He could see it. His father—stoic, immovable, fifty-year-old Zhang Shou—throwing himself in front of his daughter without a second thought.
It was exactly what Father would do. The only thing he would do.
"The impact sent both of them off the wall walk," Mother continued. "They hit the courtyard hard. Li was stunned but unharmed. Your father... he wasn't moving. Blood was pooling under him. I could see the bone, Wei. I could see his ribs through the wound."
"The potions," Wei said.
"Grandmother brought them. She'd been brewing them since the shimmer. Using herbs from her garden and sap from the Tree of Life." Mother's voice steadied as she recited the details. "The green draught—the Purification Draught—fought off the goblin poison. Their blades are always fouled, always tainted. Without the draught, the infection would have killed him within hours."
"The red poultice slowed the bleeding. Made from astragalus root and blessed honey—accelerates natural healing, closes wounds, stabilizes critical patients. Song Na used it while she operated."
Wei felt the words settle into his chest like stones.
"How long was the surgery?"
"Three hours. She had to stitch the internal layers first—the muscle wall, the fascia—then the subcutaneous tissue, then the skin. Your father's heart stopped twice on the table." Her voice cracked.
"Twice, Wei. The first time, Song Na had to manually massage his heart back. The second time, the drought did it—the stimulant properties kicked in and his heart just... started again."
She squeezed Father's hand.
"He came back. Both times."
Wei looked at his father's hands. The hands that had taught him to plant seeds, to string a bow, to shape wood. The hands that built the wall. The hands that held his mother's face the night the rice field burned.
The left hand lay still on the blanket. The fingers slightly curled. The right hand was wrapped in Mother's grip.
"Song Na said there might be permanent damage," Wei said quietly. "To his left arm."
Mother didn't answer right away. When she did, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"The axe cut through some of the nerves. The ones that control fine movement in the hand and forearm. She said... she said he might not be able to draw his bow again. Not the way he used to. Not with the strength and precision he had."
She looked at Father's face.
"He's been an archer his whole life."
"Since before I met him."
"His bow was the first thing he ever made with his own hands."
"He was fifteen. His father taught him."
Wei didn't know that. His father had never told him. There were so many things his father had never told him.
"He's alive," Mother said again, as if reminding herself. "That's what matters. He's alive, and Li is alive, and you're alive, and everyone else is alive. We lost two chickens and a sheep that got trampled in the chaos.
"That's all. Against that huge pack of goblins and a hobgoblin warlord and two shamans and all those elites. That's all we lost."
"That's not all we lost," Wei said. "Father might never—"
"That's all we lost." Her voice was firm now. "Everything else can be fixed. Everything else can be worked around. Your father is alive."
"He's going to stay alive. And he's going to watch his children grow up and his grandchildren be born and this farm become everything he ever dreamed. Do you understand me?"
Wei met her eyes. Saw the iron will that had held this family together through famine and war and the end of the world.
"I understand."
"Good." She turned back to Father. "Now sit down before you fall down. You're swaying."
Wei sat. He hadn't realized he was swaying.
The morning passed slowly. People came and went from the house, their voices low, their footsteps careful.
Song Na arrived to check Father's bandages. She was running on no sleep—dark circles under her eyes, a slight tremor in her hands—but her movements were precise and professional. She peeled back the bandages, examined the wounds, nodded to herself.
"The poultice is working. The internal sutures are holding. The bleeding has stopped completely."
She re-wrapped the wounds with fresh bandages.
"He's going to be in this bed for at least a month. Probably longer. And when he does get up, he's not lifting anything heavier than a teacup for another month after that."
"He'll hate that," Mother said.
"He'll hate being dead more. Keep him in bed." Song Na turned to Wei. "You. You're supposed to be unconscious. Your mana reserves are barely above critical threshold and you've got three cracked ribs that are trying very hard to become broken ribs. Sit. Stay. Do not make me sedate you."
"I won't."
"You say that, but I've heard it before." She gestured at Hao, loitering in the doorway. "He told me he'd stay in bed after the goblin arrow. He was on the wall within the hour."
"That was different," Hao protested. "We were being invaded."
"You're always being invaded. That's not an excuse." She gathered her supplies and headed for the door, then paused. "You did good work last night. All of you. Stupid, reckless, medically inadvisable work. But good work."
Then she was gone.
Grandmother arrived next. She didn't speak—she never did in moments like this—but she carried a tray with a steaming pot of herbal tea. The scent was complex: ginseng and ginger and something that tickled the back of Wei's throat. She poured a cup and pressed it into his hands. Her fingers were gnarled and thin but still strong. She met his eyes for just a moment—an acknowledgment, a blessing, a grandmother's love that didn't need words—and then she moved to Father's bedside, adjusting the poultice with practiced hands.
Cheng Wei stopped by to report on the wall damage.
"The east gate held up pretty well—the vines took most of the impact. The rice field breach is the worst of it. Twelve feet wide, edges blackened with some kind of corruption. Feng and Liu Wei are guarding it now, in case any stragglers try to come through."
He paused.
"Your uncle saved our asses on the wall. I've never seen anything like it. Four elites, one after another. He just... didn't stop."
"He's always been like that," Wei said.
"I believe it." Cheng Wei shook his head. "Anyway. Rest up. We've got the watch covered."
Liu Wei brought Jun a little later. The boy hesitated in the doorway, his dark eyes moving from Wei to Father and back again. Then he ran across the room and threw his arms around Wei's legs—gently, as if he knew Wei was hurt.
"You killed the bad frogs," he said, his voice muffled against Wei's knee. "Father told me. All the bad frogs are dead. The big one too."
"All the bad frogs," Wei confirmed, ruffling Jun's hair. "The big one won't bother anyone ever again."
Jun looked up, his expression solemn. "Father says you're a hero. He says Uncle is a hero too. And Grandfather's pigs."
"Your father is a hero too. He held the gate. He didn't run."
Jun considered this. "I'm going to be a hero when I grow up. I'm going to have a spear and everything."
"You'll be the best hero."
Jun nodded, satisfied, and ran back to his father. Liu Wei caught Wei's eye over the boy's head and nodded once—a gesture of respect, gratitude, solidarity. Wei nodded back.
Grandfather arrived last, smelling of mud and pigs and pipe smoke. His cane tapped the floor as he entered.
"That pig saved your life," he said without preamble, pointing a gnarled finger at Wei. "Old Wang. He charged four armed elites without hesitating. You should thank him properly. A whole bucket of the good feed, not the usual scraps. And scratch behind his ears—he likes that."
"I will," Wei promised. "I'll bring him the best feed we have."
"Good." Grandfather settled into his chair, cane across his knees. "You know, I've raised a lot of pigs in my life. Dozens. Hundreds, maybe. But Old Wang... he's special. I told you that, didn't I? The day you came back from the city. I said he was special."
"You did."
"You didn't believe me."
"I believe you now."
Grandfather nodded, satisfied. "Good. Took you long enough."
***
As the morning wore on, Wei's mind began to work again. The fog of exhaustion was lifting—the tea helped, and the Tree's ambient healing, and maybe just the relief of knowing Father was alive.
But one thought kept circling back, bothering him like a stone in his shoe.
Uncle killed four elites. On his own. In single combat.
The same kind of elites Wei had fought at the rice field breach. Strength 8.5, Resilience 9.2. Wei had struggled against them even after the Second Harvest, even after eating the Bloodfire Peach and the Stormberry.
How had Uncle done it?
Wei focused on his uncle. A panel appeared.
```
┌──────────────────────────────┐
│ ZHANG JIANGUO — Oath-Bound
│
│ Tier 2
│
│ Strength: 7.1 | Agility: 6.5
│
│ Resilience: 7.3 | Intelligence: 5.8
│
│ Stamina: 6.9
│
│ Skills: Veteran's Instinct (Passive)
│ — Enhanced combat awareness.
│ Decades of military experience refined by the
│ Tree's blessing. Allows rapid threat and
│ assessment and adaptive combat response.
│
│ Notes: Has reached Tier 2 through intense
│ physical training within the farm's
│ boundaries.
│
│ Continues to grow steadily with certain
│ occasional conditions.
└──────────────────────────────┘
```
His uncle's stats were in the fives to sevens—comparable to where Wei had been after his initial Tier 2 advancement, before the Second Harvest fruits pushed him into the fourteens. More than five times stronger than an average human.
And the notes explained it. Uncle had been training relentlessly since the oath. Spear drills at dawn. Axe work after breakfast. Sparring with Feng in the evenings. Pushing his body to its limits every day.
The tree's blessing combined with the oath had created potential. Uncle had been fulfilling it without even knowing.
"Uncle," Wei said. "Can I ask you something?"
Uncle looked up from his spear. "Sure."
"Your training. What exactly have you been doing? Every day."
Uncle considered the question. "Spear drills at dawn. Footwork, thrust patterns, recovery. Axe work after breakfast—chopping drills, shield-breaking techniques. Sparring with Feng in the evenings—he's faster than me, keeps me sharp. Sometimes I run the perimeter with the dogs. Full speed."
He paused. "Why?"
"Because you're stronger than you should be." Wei chose his words carefully. "Part of my abilities—I can perceive things about people. Their strength. Their speed. Their potential. And you're more than five times stronger than an average human. All your physical abilities are way above normal."
He paused. "Your combat instincts, too. You have something called Veteran's Instinct. It enhances your threat assessment and adaptive response. Decades of military experience refined by the Tree's blessing."
Uncle was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly.
"It explains a lot. The way I moved last night—it felt like being twenty years younger. My body knew what to do before my mind caught up. I thought it was just adrenaline, but it was more than that. It was like... like my muscles remembered every fight I've ever been in, and they were all working together."
"The blessing amplifies what's already there," Wei said. "Your training, your experience, your instincts—all of that was already in you. The Tree just turned up the volume. And the harder you train, the stronger you get."
"So I could get even stronger."
"If you keep training. Yes."
Uncle looked down at his hands—the hands that had gripped a spear for thirty years, that had held dying men in muddy trenches, that had bent steel bars in the forge.
"Then I'll keep training," he said. "We all will."
Hao, who had been eavesdropping from the doorway, immediately inserted himself.
"What about me? Can you see my stats? Am I secretly super strong and just don't know it? I feel like I should be super strong. I've been shooting arrows every day for weeks. My arms are very tired."
"Complaining about your arms being tired isn't the same as training," Li said from her corner.
"Complaining is part of training. It's a vital component. All great warriors complain."
Wei focused on Hao.
```
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ ZHANG HAO — Oath-Bound │
│ Tier 1 (Evolving) │
│ Strength: 2.8 | Agility: 4.1 │
│ Resilience: 3.0 | Intelligence: 2.5 │
│ Stamina: 3.2 │
│ Skills: Steady Hand (Passive) │
│ — Increased accuracy with ranged weapons. │
│ Developed through obsessive daily archery │
│ practice. Reduces aim deviation by 15%. │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
"Your agility is above average," Wei said. "Four-point-one. And you have a skill—Steady Hand. Makes you more accurate with ranged weapons. Developed from all that archery practice."
Hao's face cycled through pride, disappointment, and grudging acceptance.
"So I'm not secretly super strong. But I have a skill. A named skill. Steady Hand." He tried the words out. "That sounds impressive. Like something a legendary archer would have."
"Your strength is two-point-eight."
"That's... fine. I'm an archer. I don't need strength. I need accuracy. And I have a skill for that."
"Your intelligence is two-point-five."
"Now you're just being hurtful."
Li set down her tea. "Do me. I want to know if I'm smarter than Hao."
"Everyone is smarter than Hao," Wei said, but he focused on her.
```
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ ZHANG LI — Oath-Bound │
│ Tier 1 (Evolving) │
│ Strength: 2.5 | Agility: 3.8 │
│ Resilience: 3.2 | Intelligence: 4.5 │
│ Stamina: 3.1 │
│ Skills: Beast Bond (Passive) │
│ — Enhanced empathy and communication with │
│ blessed animals. Allows command sharing │
│ and emotional sensing across distance. │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
"Your intelligence is higher," Wei said. "And you have Beast Bond. It's what lets you feel the animals' emotions and communicate with them."
Li turned to Hao with a smile that could only be described as triumphant.
"I'm smarter than you. Nearly twice as smart. And I can give instructions to your nemesis now."
"That's not—intelligence is subjective! There are many kinds of intelligence! Book intelligence, emotional intelligence, tactical intelligence—"
"What kind do you have?"
Hao opened his mouth. Closed it.
"I have archery intelligence."
"That's not a thing."
"It's absolutely a thing. It's the intelligence of knowing exactly where to put an arrow."
Mother, without turning from Father's bedside: "Both of you, be quiet. Your father is trying to sleep."
"He's already asleep," Hao pointed out.
"Then he's trying to stay asleep. Be quiet."
Wei turned his attention to the other survivors. He checked them one by one.
Cheng Wei: high Strength, a skill called Builder's Instinct. "You've got a natural talent for building things. The blessing is amplifying it."
Bai Jun: a mechanical repair skill called Tinker's Touch. "You're good with machines. Better than you should be."
Song Na: a medical diagnosis skill called Healer's Sight. "You see things other people miss when you look at a wound."
Feng: high Agility, a stealth skill called Shadow Walk. "You're fast. Very fast. And you have a talent for moving unseen."
Liu Wei: high Resilience, a skill called Enduring Father. "You're tougher than you should be. The blessing is rewarding your determination."
Wei looked around the room.
"All of you. Listen. The farms blessing responds to effort. The more you push yourselves—physically, mentally, in whatever you're good at—the stronger you'll get. Uncle is proof. He's been training the hardest, and he's grown the most. If you want to get stronger, train. If you want to develop new skills, practice. The potential is there. You just have to reach for it."
"So we could all get super strength?" Hao asked.
"You could all get stronger than you are now. Maybe not as strong as Uncle, but stronger. Every day you train, you improve."
Cheng Wei nodded slowly. "Then we train. All of us. Not just the fighters—everyone. Song Na, you practice your diagnosis. Bai Jun, you work on your repairs. Li, you keep working with the animals. Everyone pushes their limits."
"And if we do that," Wei said, "the next time goblins come, we'll be ready."
By late morning, Wei could move more easily. The tea had helped, and the Tree's ambient healing was slowly knitting his bones back together. He still ached—every breath a reminder of his cracked ribs—but he could walk without support now, as long as he moved slowly.
His first destination was the east gate.
The transformation was more dramatic up close. The two towers had not just merged with the wall—they'd grown into it, golden stone flowing through grey like veins of light through marble. The gate itself was thicker, reinforced with iron bands that gleamed with a faint golden sheen. Internal staircases spiraled up from the courtyard. Chest-high parapets on all four sides.
Wei placed his hand on the stone.
```
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ EAST GATEHOUSE (Merged Structure) │
│ Tier 2 | Fortified │
│ Components: 2 Watchtowers + Original Gate │
│ Durability: 2500% of base │
│ Defensive Bonus: +30% accuracy for archers │
│ firing from tower platforms. │
│ Features: Internal staircases, chest-high │
│ parapets, reinforced gate with iron bands, │
│ blessed vine integration. │
│ Notes: Structures have merged into a single │
│ entity. Upgrading the wall will now upgrade │
│ the Gatehouse simultaneously. Collective │
│ upgrade cost applies. │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
He checked the Wall Upgrade cost.
```
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ WALL UPGRADE — TIER 3
│ Cost: 800 credits
│ Time: 10 minutes
│ Effect: Transforms wall into a multi-
│ purpose castle wall. Height +5 meters,
│ thickness tripled.
│
│ Gatehouse expanded into full gatehouse │complex
│ complex with guard quarters, inner │staircase
│ layout, armory , reinforced gates, covered
│ firing positions on multiple levels.
│
│
│ Vine density +75%, self restoration with
│ time.
│ All gates receive gatehouse
│ structures.
│
│ ⚠ Note: Upgrading the wall will alter the
│ farm's boundary. It is recommended to
│ upgrade the wall before constructing the
│ Small Settlement, as the settlement's
│ placement may be affected by boundary
│ changes.
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
Eight hundred credits. The cost had been five hundred before the watchtowers merged—collective upgrade cost now that the structures were a single entity. But the upgrade would transform the wall into a true castle wall, with an expanded gatehouse, murder holes, guard quarters, covered firing positions. All gates would receive gatehouse structures like this.
"That's cheaper than building watchtowers manually and upgrading them." Wei watches the description carefully.
And the note about boundary changes was crucial. The wall expansion would shift the farm's protected area. The settlement needed to be built after.
A red notification had been pulsing at the edge of Wei's vision since he woke up.
```
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ ⚠ WALL DAMAGE DETECTED │
│ Location: Rice Field Section (North-East) │
│ Severity: Major breach (12 feet wide) │
│ Residual Corruption: Moderate │
│ Repair Cost: 25 credits │
│ Recommended: Immediate repair. │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
He made his way to the rice fields, moving slowly. The paddies were a mess—water muddy and churned, young rice plants trampled or torn up. The wall breach was a jagged wound in the stone, twelve feet wide, edges blackened with crackling purple energy.
Feng and Liu Wei were standing guard.
"Any stragglers?" Wei asked.
"None," Feng said. "The ones who ran after the hobgoblin fell scattered into the hills. We've been watching since dawn."
Wei approached the breach and placed his hand on the shattered stone.
```
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ WALL BREACH DETECTED │
│ Repair Cost: 25 credits │
│ Effect: Restores section to full integrity. │
│ Removes residual corruption. │
│ Proceed? │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
He confirmed. Twenty-five credits drained.
The stone began to flow. Blessed material knitting together, golden light chasing away purple-edged corruption. Within seconds, the breach was gone. The wall stood whole.
Feng stared. "That's useful."
Liu Wei's mouth had fallen open. "That's a miracle. I just watched stone grow like it was alive."
"It's not a miracle," Wei said. "It's just something I can do. Part of my abilities—I can build things. Repair things. Make structures stronger."
"Can you do that anywhere?"
"Just within the farm's boundaries. My power only reaches so far."
Liu Wei shook his head slowly. "Still. You could have told us. We've been standing here for hours thinking we'd need to rebuild this by hand."
"I didn't know I could do it until I tried,"
Wei admitted.
"I'm still learning what the abilities can do."
Wei turned to face Feng and Liu Wei.
"I need to ask you something," he said. "Both of you. But it's really for all the survivors."
Liu Wei nodded. "Ask."
"You've been sleeping in the barn since you arrived. All of you. Cheng Wei and Mei, Song Na, Bai Jun, Feng. Even you and Jun were in the barn until recently." He paused.
"That's not sustainable. Winter is coming. Mei is pregnant—she needs proper shelter. And honestly, you all deserve better than hay bales and a leaky roof."
"The barn is fine," Liu Wei said automatically. "We've slept in worse places."
"I know you have. But you shouldn't have to. Not anymore."
Wei looked at the building shop panel.
```
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ BUILDING SHOP — FARM STRUCTURES │
├─────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ CURRENT CREDITS: 1,896
│
│ AVAILABLE UPGRADES:
│ Wall Upgrade (Tier 3) — 800 cr Priority !! │
│ Small Settlement (Tier 3) — 1,200 cr
│ Orchard Upgrade — 400 cr
│ Barn Upgrade — 150 cr
│ Chicken Coop Upgrade — 80 cr
│ Pig Pen Upgrade — 120 cr
│ Cow Shed Upgrade — 180 cr
│ Sheep Yard Upgrade — 120 cr
│ Main House Upgrade — 300 cr
│ Warehouse Construction — 200 cr
│ Forge Upgrade — 200 cr
│ Fish Pond Upgrade — 200 cr
│ Beehive Expansion — 50 cr
│
│ Farm Tier Upgrade (Full) — 4,000 cr
│
│ Note: Building all structures individually
│ will eventually unlock the Farm Tier
│ Upgrade at a reduced cost. Alternatively,
│ the Farm Tier Upgrade can be purchased
│ directly for 4,000 credits to upgrade all
│ remaining structures simultaneously.
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
```
"I can build two major structures right now," Wei continued. "castle wall, expanded Gatehouse, the works. Or the Small Settlement—ten stone houses, paved paths, a well, street lamps, small garden patches. A proper village, you can stay in proper houses there."
"The wall upgrade is recommended first. It'll alter the farm's boundaries, which might affect where the settlement can be placed. But after the wall is done, I can start saving for the settlement. Might take a few weeks, depending on harvest yields and any more attacks, but I can do it."
"Eventually," he added, "I'll make our farm an actual base . Everything—all the buildings, the wall, the fields will become much bigger and stronger—in one massive transformation. But that's a long way off."
Feng and Liu Wei exchanged glances.
"The wall," Liu Wei said. "Do the wall."
"Mei is pregnant. She needs—"
"Mei can stay in the spare room at the house. Your mother already offered. We talked about it this morning." Liu Wei's voice was steady.
"The wall keeps everyone safe. You saw yourself, it kept the goblins out. Without the wall, there's no farm, and without the farm, there's no point having houses. We can wait a few more weeks. We've waited this long."
Feng nodded. "He's right. Build the wall. We've slept in ruins. In basements. In ditches. The barn is luxury compared to what we've survived. Don't waste credits on our comfort when the next attack could come any day."
"The next attack might not come for a while. The hobgoblin is dead. The shamans are dead. The goblin camp is probably in chaos."
"Then there will be another hobgoblin. Or something worse. There's always something worse." Feng's voice was flat. "Build the wall."
Wei was quiet for a moment.
He wanted to give them homes. Proper homes, with real beds and solid roofs and doors that locked. They deserved that much. After everything they'd been through—everything they'd lost—after they decided to serve him, they deserved a place that was theirs.
But they were right. The wall protected everyone. Without it, the settlement would just be ten stone houses waiting to be overrun.
"The wall first," he said finally. "I promise you—the settlement comes next. As soon as I have the credits. Even if I have to harvest every fruit in the orchard by hand."
"We know you will," Liu Wei said. "We're not worried."
"You're not... upset? About staying in the barn a while longer?"
"Upset?" Liu Wei almost laughed. "Wei, a week ago we were starving in the ruins of Qinghe, waiting to die. Now we have food and water and walls and people who actually care whether we live or die. We're not upset. We're grateful. The barn is fine. We can wait."
Feng nodded again. "What he said."
Something loosened in Wei's chest—a tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.
They weren't upset. They weren't resentful. They understood. And they trusted him to keep his word.
"The wall first," he said again. "Then the settlement. I swear it."
He looked at the building shop panel, still hovering in the air. Eleven hundred and ninety-four credits remaining after the wall repair. Enough for the wall upgrade with nearly four hundred left over. Not enough for the settlement—not yet.
But soon.
The path forward was clear. Wall first. Settlement second.
And someday —
Tier upgrade of the farm, when they had thousands credits and the breathing room to use them.
He closed the panel and looked out at the farm—at the damaged but standing wall, at the golden Gatehouse gleaming in the pale sun, at the people moving through the courtyard, at the smoke rising from the pyre and the chimney of the house where his father lay recovering.
They had survived. Against a hoard of goblins and a hobgoblin warlord and two shamans and more elites than he wanted to count. They had lost two chickens and one sheep and nearly lost Father.
But they survived.
And they would keep surviving. They would keep building. They would keep growing stronger.
Wei turned and walked back toward the house, toward his family, toward whatever came next.
End of Chapter 14