In the darkness, Aiden Shen was running. He felt a bit panicked—it was just after nightfall, so Moses Zane should still be awake, but the house above was pitch black.
With a crackling sound, Aiden stumbled and nearly fell. It had rained heavily today, and the path up the small hill was flooded. Aiden had to slow down, but he finally made it to the top.
"Old Moses..."
Aiden called out, but there was no response. Alarmed, he walked up to Moses Zane’s door, gently pushed it open, lit a fire, and swallowed nervously. In the firelight, Moses Zane lay quietly on the bed, his face deathly pale. Aiden hurried over.
Only after repeated shaking did Moses Zane finally open his eyes with difficulty. He looked very weak.
"Wine..."
After taking a sip of wine, Moses Zane seemed to catch his breath. Aiden was drenched in cold sweat, but Moses Zane just quietly stared at him.
"Aiden, go get some meat. I want to drink properly tonight."
Soon, Aiden brought the meat. Following Moses Zane’s instructions, he made the room brighter. In the flickering firelight, Aiden raised his bowl and drank with Moses Zane.
"Aiden, justice is not a game."
Moses Zane suddenly spoke up. Aiden Shen's expression remained calm as he took a long swig of liquor; it was only a few months ago that he started to get used to the taste of alcohol.
"How many people did you kill today?"
Moses Zane asked again. Aiden Shen slowly shook his head.
"I don’t remember."
"Is that so? Are you afraid?"
Moses Zane pressed his hand onto Aiden Shen's head, making it sway from side to side. Yet inside, Aiden Shen felt no fear. He had never thought he was wrong for killing those men himself.
"If your conscience is clear, then that’s all right."
A faint sound of labored breathing. Aiden Shen noticed something was off with Moses Zane—he was wheezing.
In the past two years, Moses Zane's health had declined; he often struggled to breathe, but tonight it seemed worse than usual. Aiden Shen gently patted his back.
"You've killed so many people. Even if it's for justice, it's just a fancy excuse. The moment you take someone's life, there's no argument left—those men were human too."
Aiden Shen didn't say a word, remaining silent. Moses Zane's tone didn't sound like he was blaming him.
"But if you don't kill them, they'll kill others and bring harm to more people."
Aiden Shen nodded.
"Everyone I've killed deserved to die."
Moses Zane said nothing more, his face flushed as he smiled and kept drinking. Aiden Shen felt dizzy; his mind was filled with the blood and carnage from earlier that day.
"Do you have any plans for the future?"
After a long silence, Moses Zane finally spoke. Aiden Shen stared absentmindedly at the sword beside him.
Moses Zane seemed to understand and nodded knowingly.
A gentle breeze swept in, snuffing out some of the oil lamps in the room. Moonlight poured inside. Moses Zane could see that Aiden Shen had found his path, but that path was painfully difficult. Day after day might be bearable, but year after year, for a lifetime—it was far too cruel for him.
"Do you regret it, Aiden Shen?"
Aiden Shen gulped down his drink and shook his head.
"There is no absolute justice in this world. Sometimes, justice can even blind you. Be wary of power—it shapes everything in this world, including justice itself."
Aiden Shen smiled and nodded. There was a loud crash—a shattering sound. Just as Aiden Shen turned his head, the smile on his face froze. Moses Zane's wine bowl slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. He looked peaceful as he slowly fell backward.
A hand caught Moses Zane. Aiden Shen quietly watched him—there was no breath left. The day had finally come, even though it felt so sudden. He’d noticed something was wrong that morning when Moses Zane said he wanted to drink, after having abstained for a long time.
"Was he your teacher?"
A low, heavy voice came from behind.
"He was... my friend..."
Hot tears streamed from Aiden Shen's eyes. In his heart, Moses Zane was his greatest benefactor. In just over four years, they had become friends who shared everything.
Aiden Shen gently lifted Moses Zane’s body, carried him outside, and ignored the people who had followed. He simply took a hoe and quietly began to dig.
With the moon high overhead, Aiden Shen gently placed Moses Zane into the grave he’d dug and began to cover him with earth. Gradually, Moses Zane disappeared from Aiden Shen’s sight. He gathered some stones and made a simple grave marker.
"Aren't you going to leave a name?"
The middle-aged man behind him looked curiously at the grave. He didn’t know who the recently departed elder was, but he could tell this man was extraordinary, to have a disciple like Aiden Shen.
Aiden Shen knelt on the ground and bowed deeply. Then he stood, went back inside, tidied up for a while, and came out again.
"Young man, what is it that you truly want?"
"Justice..."
Aiden Shen left. His heart was aching, yet burning with resolve. The distant world was dark, but vast. He planned to see it with his own eyes.
I woke up, surrounded by swirling green currents. They enveloped me, but images kept flashing through my mind.
At seventeen, among swordsmen, Aiden Shen was already well-known. But he remained a lone wolf, never interacting with anyone, relentlessly cutting down evildoers, endlessly chasing justice, never stopping.
"For justice."
Whenever anyone asked him what he was fighting for, he always answered this way.
He cared neither for fame nor fortune. Many powerful people tried to hire Aiden Shen, but no one could control this lone wolf. At first, swordsmen from all walks of life respected him, but eventually, everyone began to shun him.
It was as if he’d never been understood—or maybe he didn’t need to be. Aiden Shen pressed on, undeterred by wind or rain.
By the time he was twenty-two, Aiden Shen was famous throughout the land. Yet few were willing to mention this madman, or eccentric.
Yet in the alleys and markets, many people praised, worshipped, and respected him. But no one truly knew Aiden Shen. Anyone who did was surely an evildoer—and would die by his sword.
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It was night, and snow was falling heavily. At a roadside inn, a group of suspicious figures entered the tavern, ordered a lot of food, and kept glancing out the window, as if hiding from something.
Everyone who came in carried weapons and looked vicious. The patrons noticed the tense atmosphere and hurried upstairs. After serving them food and drink, the innkeeper wisely left.
"Young master, let's go upstairs too. Those men don't look like good people."
In a corner sat a pale-faced youth in his twenties, handsome and elegant, sipping his wine with a faint, enigmatic smile.
"Zhuang Bo, what are you afraid of? There’s going to be a good show soon."
The group began eating as soon as the food arrived. They seemed to be in a hurry. After eating and drinking their fill, they paid and prepared to leave.
"It's Aiden Shen."
One of the men had just stepped outside when he suddenly clutched his throat, staggered, and collapsed in a pool of blood. Instantly, more than ten men grabbed their weapons and retreated, eyes wide with terror as they stared outside.
"Ha! See, Zhuang Bo? I told you there’d be a good show."
"Young master..."
The young master and his steward stared at each other. The young master propped his chin on his hand, raising his wine bowl and continuing to drink.
"Aiden Shen, you've killed over a hundred of our brothers. Please let us go. I swear I'll never do evil again—just give us a way out."
Wind and snow swirled as a disheveled figure with tattered clothes and loose hair entered, carrying a red sword. Immediately, someone in the tavern cheered.
"So the young master is that mad swordsman, the one who only kills evildoers. We should go upstairs."
The young master didn’t move, continuing to watch the slaughter unfold before him.
The fight began. One by one, men fell to the ground, almost without resistance. With a clang, a sword was knocked from Aiden Shen's hand, flying into the corner.
The steward jumped in fright and raised his hands, but the young master held him back. With a clang, the sword stuck into the table, right in front of the young master.
The last man fell to the ground. Aiden Shen searched the leader's body for some money and tossed it aside carelessly.
"Boss, bring me some wine and meat, and drag these bodies out."
Most people in the tavern had heard stories about Aiden Shen, but none dared to go downstairs. Only the young master, with his faint smile, sat down in front of Aiden Shen, ignoring the steward’s attempts to stop him.
"Why didn't you hide?"
When Aiden Shen entered, he immediately noticed this young man about his age, calmly watching the fight. Even when the sword flew toward him, he didn’t flinch. Now he’d come and sat down.
"Why should I hide?"
Aiden Shen hugged the wine jug and drank deeply, devouring the meat that had been served.
"What's your name?"
"Yin Choujian. This is my steward, Zhuang Xian."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Zhuang Xian kept making faces and occasionally tugged at Yin Choujian.
"Why anything at all?"
After a long silence, Yin Choujian finally asked. With a bang, Aiden Shen set down the wine jug and stared at him.
"For justice."
Suddenly, Yin Choujian burst out laughing, doubling over until tears streamed down his face and wine spilled from his bowl.
Aiden Shen said nothing. He’d endured years of ridicule, but now, the man called Yin Choujian stopped laughing, pressed his palms together, and stared at him in awe.
"It's the first time I've met someone like you! Such a fool, but honestly, you seem interesting."
"Young master."
Zhuang Xian quickly apologized, but Aiden Shen said nothing, simply watching Yin Choujian. Their eyes met, and gradually, both men smiled. With a bang, the wine jug and bowl clinked together.
"My name is Aiden Shen. Yin Choujian."