“My Peaceful Life With the Heroine I Once Fought”

Chapter 11: First Fang Drawn

It began with crows.

Three of them, circling above the village gate just before dawn, black wings cutting through silver mist. Their cries were sharp, insistent. Yu Zhen watched from the rooftop of his home, unmoving.

"They're scouts," Lan Yueran said, appearing beside him. "Not birds. Familiars."

He nodded. "Which means the master isn't far behind."

Together, they scanned the forest. Nothing yet. But the wind had shifted again—tighter, heavier. The kind of pressure that signaled killing intent.

Yu Zhen jumped down lightly, boots touching earth without sound. "Prepare the village. Keep the family indoors. No one walks alone."

"What about you?" Lan Yueran asked.

"I'll wait."

---

By midmorning, Jingyang Village was unusually quiet. No market opened. No children ran outside. The smoke from chimneys rose silently into the pale blue sky.

Yu Zhen stood at the center of the village square, dressed not in battle armor, but in plain clothes. The wooden sword hung across his back. His eyes never left the path that led from the woods.

Just before noon, a stranger arrived.

He was lean, dressed in black silk traveler's robes, a red sash tied at his waist. A longspear rested over his shoulder, and his boots were caked with blood—not dirt, blood.

He stopped at the edge of the village and smiled.

"So," the man called, "this is where the 'Ghost of the Ashen Flame' hides now?"

Yu Zhen didn't move. "If you're here for the bounty, turn back."

The man laughed. "I came for the challenge. And the coin is a nice bonus."

Lan Yueran appeared beside a nearby house, blade drawn but lowered.

The man's gaze flicked toward her. "Ah, the Black Petal. Didn't expect you'd be here too. Rebuilding a life together, are we?"

Yu Zhen's voice was quiet. "Who sent you?"

"No one. I go where the blades are sharp and the names are loud. Yours was the loudest this month."

The man stepped forward. "Let's make a deal. If you kneel, break your sword, and let me take your head to the nearest collector, I'll leave the rest of the village untouched."

Yu Zhen slowly reached back and drew the wooden sword.

It didn't glow. It didn't hum. But something about it made the bounty hunter's smile falter for half a second.

"Very well," the man said. "No more talking."

---

He moved fast—blindingly so. The spear was a blur, aimed straight for Yu Zhen's chest.

But Yu Zhen sidestepped, pivoted, and struck with the wooden sword.

There was a crack—louder than it should've been—and the spear's shaft split in half.

The man stumbled, caught himself, and roared, lunging with the broken haft. Yu Zhen ducked low, swept his leg, and knocked the man flat on his back.

The wooden sword hovered an inch above the bounty hunter's throat.

Yu Zhen's voice was like ice. "Leave. And tell the others what you saw."

Blood ran from the man's mouth. He coughed and spat. "What… are you?"

Yu Zhen didn't answer.

The bounty hunter crawled away, broken weapon in hand, vanishing into the woods like a dog that had bitten something too large.

---

Silence returned.

The villagers slowly peeked from behind windows and doors.

Yu Hao ran out first, wide-eyed. "You beat him! With the wooden sword!"

Madam Yue scolded him and pulled him back inside.

Lan Yueran approached. "That won't be the last."

"No," Yu Zhen agreed. "But he'll spread the story. That will slow the others—for now."

---

Later that evening, they gathered in the courtyard.

Madam Yue placed food on the table—spiced fish, sweet bean buns, and fresh tea. No one spoke at first.

Then Yu Lian asked, "Big Brother… will they keep coming?"

Yu Zhen nodded. "Yes. But we'll be ready."

Yu Hao clenched his fists. "Then I'll train harder!"

Lan Yueran smiled and ruffled his hair. "Good."

Madam Yue looked across the table. "I don't want to leave this village."

"You won't," Yu Zhen said gently. "Not unless there's no other way."

"But why do they hate you?" Yu Lian asked. "You're good."

Yu Zhen looked at her, quiet for a long time.

Then he said, "Sometimes, people fear what they don't understand. And sometimes… the past doesn't stay buried."

---

That night, Yu Zhen sat alone at the top of the old watchtower.

The stars glittered above. His wooden sword rested across his knees. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

Memories came—sharp, painful.

A battlefield soaked in ash. Screams echoing across cliffs. A girl's voice crying his name. The smell of burning banners. The sound of his own heartbeat slowing as he collapsed beside the enemy commander… a man who had once been his friend.

He opened his eyes.

"I can't run anymore," he whispered.

A rustle of fabric came behind him.

Lan Yueran sat down beside him, offering a small gourd of wine. "You never were running. You were healing."

He took the wine and drank. "Maybe. But the wound still festers."

She looked at him sideways. "So what now?"

"I fight. I protect this place. Not because I'm Rael… but because I'm Yu Zhen."

She smiled. "Good. Because I never liked Rael much."

He laughed softly. "Neither did I."

---

Far away, deep within the chambers of the Imperial Court, the bounty hunter knelt before a robed figure.

"He… he used a wooden sword," the man said, trembling. "It broke my spear like a twig."

The figure said nothing.

"But I saw it. The way he moved. The precision. That wasn't some mountain hermit. That was him."

Still silence.

"I—I failed. But I carried the message."

The robed figure finally spoke, voice cold as frost. "Good."

He handed the hunter a small jade token.

"Spend it well. You won't live to spend another."

The hunter's eyes widened just as the poison inside the jade activated.

He fell silently to the floor, already forgotten.

---

Back in Jingyang, the villagers began to return to normal life. Fields were plowed. Walls were reinforced. Children laughed again.

But now, they looked at Yu Zhen with different eyes—not just as a quiet older brother or kind neighbor—but as something more.

A protector. A warrior. A storm wrapped in calm.

Yu Zhen felt the shift but said nothing. He simply did what needed doing.

At night, he sat under the peach tree with his sword and watched the stars.

Waiting.

Listening.

Knowing that the next challenger would not come alone.

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