“My Peaceful Life With the Heroine I Once Fought”

Chapter 13: The Weight of Secrets

The sun rose behind a curtain of mist, casting long shadows across the fields of Jingyang. Morning birds chirped in distant harmony, but the village moved with an uneasy rhythm.

The attack on the neighboring village was no longer rumor. Messengers from the provincial watchtower had confirmed it: twelve homes burned, dozens missing. No bodies found. No ransom notes. Only ash and silence.

Yu Zhen stood at the northern ridge, surveying the land below with sharp eyes. The wind carried nothing suspicious, but his instincts said otherwise.

"They're watching," he murmured.

Lan Yueran joined him, holding a sealed scroll.

"The regional commander sent this," she said. "An official offer. They want you to come to the capital."

He opened the scroll.

> "To Yu Zhen of Jingyang—

By order of the Grand Council of the East, your abilities are hereby summoned to assist in suppressing violent cultist resurgence. You will be granted official status and protection. Denial may be treated as dissent."

He scoffed. "Ah. So now I'm useful again."

Lan Yueran frowned. "It's bait."

He handed the scroll back. "Burn it."

She didn't hesitate.

---

Down in the village, the people had started to whisper. They'd seen Yu Zhen fight. They knew danger had come. And now, even the children picked up wooden sticks and mimicked swordplay, pretending to be him.

Yu Lian sat on the porch steps, clutching a diary she hadn't written in for days.

Madam Yue stirred porridge in the pot, glancing at her adopted son from time to time.

"You're hiding something again," she said eventually.

Yu Zhen didn't answer.

"I've known since you came to us. That day you wandered into our lives, bloodied and half-conscious… you had the eyes of someone who'd already died once."

He smiled faintly. "I suppose I did."

She turned off the fire. "But you brought peace to this home. That's all that mattered to me. Still… if that peace is about to end, I deserve to know."

Yu Zhen looked at her carefully. "What would you do if you knew… I used to be someone the world feared?"

"I'd say I already knew. But that boy—Rael or not—chose to help an old widow raise her children. And that's the man I care about."

Her voice didn't waver.

Yu Zhen felt something loosen in his chest.

---

That afternoon, Yu Zhen gathered the villagers in the square.

He stood on the stone steps near the well, arms folded.

"I won't lie to you," he began. "Danger is coming. People from far away, people with power. Some will come for me. Others may not care who gets hurt."

The crowd murmured, eyes wide.

Yu Zhen continued, "I will do everything I can to protect this place. But I need your help."

He looked at the blacksmith. "Reinforce every door."

At the farmer. "Create stockpiles—food, herbs, fresh water."

At the weaver. "Tear strips of cloth. For wounds. For signals."

Even the children nodded with seriousness.

"This isn't a war," Yu Zhen said. "It's survival. And we will survive."

---

As the villagers dispersed to their duties, Lan Yueran stood beside him.

"You're becoming a leader again," she said.

"I didn't want to," he replied. "I just want them to live."

"And if the next attack comes tomorrow?"

"Then I'll bleed again for them."

She didn't argue.

---

That evening, the family gathered for dinner. The tension was heavy, but the meal was warm—steamed fish, pickled lotus root, and sesame rice.

Yu Hao fidgeted at the table.

"Big Brother," he asked. "Can I train with you tomorrow?"

Yu Zhen smiled. "You can. But first you must help Yu Lian with the garden."

Yu Hao groaned. "Why always the garden?"

"Because even warriors must learn to nurture."

Yu Lian snorted into her tea. "He kills more vegetables than weeds."

Madam Yue gave them both a look. "Eat before I make everyone weed the garden."

The laughter that followed was small, but real.

Yu Zhen sat back, listening. And for a moment, the world felt almost light again.

---

That night, he stood outside under the stars with Lan Yueran.

"You should rest," she said.

"I can't."

"You're not the only one carrying the weight, you know."

"I know."

She stepped closer. "You've been bleeding alone for too long. Let someone in."

He turned to her. "I have."

Her breath caught—but she said nothing, only looked up at the sky.

He whispered, "I don't know if I'll survive what's coming. But if I fall… keep them safe."

"No," she replied.

He blinked. "No?"

"I won't promise that because you're not falling. We don't fall. Not unless we fall together."

He let out a quiet laugh. "Still stubborn."

"Always."

---

The next morning, a shadow passed overhead.

Not from the sun—but from a hawk. A real one, but trained.

It dropped a scroll onto Yu Zhen's porch and soared away.

He picked it up slowly, heart already sinking.

Inside was only a phrase:

> "You chose the village. He chooses war."

Yu Zhen closed his eyes.

Cai Juren was daring him to move.

To abandon what he'd built and return to the battlefield.

But he wouldn't take the bait. Not yet.

Not while the ones he loved could still smile.

He burned the scroll.

And began preparing for war.