Chapter Two: Their Own Sorrows

"Oh! Isn't this the useless good-for-nothing?"

An unpleasant voice came from nearby. At the words, Han Bingyan's body trembled, his face turning a shade paler. Han Bingran was startled at first, then turned angrily to the speaker. "Han Bingwu, what do you mean by that?"

Turning around, they saw a boy of about eight or nine, chatting and laughing with a small group. He was a bit chubby, the beginnings of a plump frame already evident. When Han Bingran confronted him, he immediately put on a fawning smile and said, "Ah, so little Ran is here too!"

"Aren't I standing right here? Did you really not see me all this time?" Han Bingran's eyes flashed with indignation—she was quick to show her feelings, and Han Bingwu was someone she particularly disliked.

Han Bingwu was a member of the Han family's branch lineage. The Han family was large and prosperous, with many members, divided into the main and branch families. As a clan famed for martial arts, the main family held higher status, and the branch family was usually at their mercy. But Han Bingyan was an exception—even the branch family children dared to bully him, finding amusement in tormenting and mocking him.

"I really didn't see you just now!" Han Bingwu replied with a sly grin. Han Bingran, nearly trembling with anger, wanted nothing more than to punch him. She fumed, "Who are you calling useless? Listen up, any of you who dare bully my brother again, I won't let you get away with it!"

With a sharp "shing," the sword sheathed at her side slid out, its cold gleam sending a chill down the spines of Han Bingwu and his companions. They knew well that when Han Bingran, this little girl, lost her temper, the consequences could be dire. With their eyes darting nervously, they quickly slunk away.

After they had left, Han Bingran was still furious, her voice heavy with exasperation. "Brother, they're just too much. You can't let them look down on you like this anymore."

Han Bingyan nodded. To be honest, he had long felt deep resentment towards Han Bingwu and the others who bullied him so often, especially given their slyness despite their young age. If they were already so devious as children, what would they become as adults?

He looked at his little sister, only six years old, yet already fierce enough to scare off boys several years older. He chuckled, "Little Ran, don't be angry. I'll just stay out of their way."

Han Bingran shot him a fiery glance, her eyes blazing and a bit of menace on her small face. Seeing this, Han Bingyan knew better than to linger—he quickly took his leave.

"Brother, you really have to change! You can't be so timid anymore!" his sister's voice called loudly from behind.

Change? I want to change too! Han Bingyan smiled bitterly. But with my meridians blocked and unable to train in martial arts, how am I supposed to change? Doesn't it take strength not to be weak?

He was unwilling to accept his fate. Why did he seem so much weaker than everyone else?

For an eight-year-old child, his desires were simple. All he wanted was the love and care of his family. Yet even that modest wish had seemed so distant for so long.

Suddenly, he collided into something soft and fell to the ground, his backside aching as if it had split. Instinctively, he realized he'd bumped into someone and, panic-stricken, scrambled to his feet. A fair, slender hand reached out to him. "Bingyan, are you alright?"

He looked up to see a woman in her twenties, smiling warmly at him. It was his aunt—Han Qianyu's younger sister, Han Qianyun.

"I-I'm fine... I'll be going now. Goodbye, Aunt Yun!" Like a sheep catching sight of a hungry wolf, Han Bingyan fled as fast as he could, leaving Han Qianyun standing there, shaking her head with a helpless smile. "This child..."

Her gaze lingered on Han Bingyan's retreating figure, and a deep ache filled her heart.

"Sister, must you be like this? Bingyan is only a child. Some things..." Han Qianyun had tried to show him care, but, wounded by so much cruelty from those around him, Bingyan seemed to lump her in with all those who treated him unkindly.

At that moment, another woman stepped forward—one who closely resembled Han Qianyun. It was Han Bingyan's mother, Han Qianyu.

Seeing Bingyan's frail little form, Han Qianyu was overwhelmed by guilt. "I want to be better to Bingyan too, but..." She paused and sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

Han Qianyun walked to her sister's side, placing her hands gently on her shoulders. "Sister, you need to wake up! I don't know why you treat Bingyan this way, but he needs your love."

"Do you realize, in this family, he has almost no friends—not even anyone to talk to? If even you, his mother, give up on him, what does he have left to rely on here? Every time I see Bingyan being bullied, my heart aches. He has a mother—why can't she protect him?"

"As the matriarch, Grandmother despises him, sees him as a disgrace. With that attitude, even the branch family dares to bully him. You're his mother—you should stand up for him!"

"Try to see things from Bingyan's perspective. Treat him well. He's already eight years old, the age when he should be going to school." Releasing her sister's shoulders, Han Qianyun suggested, "Why don't you let him go?"

"You mean..."

Han Qianyun nodded with a half-smile. Han Qianyu thought for a moment. Eight years—it had been eight years since Bingyan was born.

"Will Mother agree?"

"Why wouldn't she?" Han Qianyun replied. "At his age, it's only right for him to go to school. Even branch family children can attend—why not Bingyan, a child of the main family?"

"Besides, you could send Little Ran too, let the siblings spend more time together. Maybe it will help them bond, make them seem more like true siblings."

"But Little Ran is only six..."

"Little Ran is very bright. I think even at six, school won't be a problem for her. Let her try, and if it doesn't work out, you can decide later."

"Alright, I'll talk to Mother about it."