Immortal Paladin
203 Before the Breach

203 Before the Breach

Chen Enlai – Several Hours Before the Invasion

New Willow was calm that morning, eerily so. The streets were quiet but alive, the haze of early dawn light drifting lazily through the stone-paved roads. Vibrant flags fluttered gently above windowsills. Smoke coiled from chimneys in elegant spirals, merging into the golden sky. The eastern gates were manned, not by anxious soldiers, but by local militia cracking jokes between shifts. Produce carts creaked over the well-maintained paths, while children ran after iron hoops, laughing without a care. To the unknowing eye, it was peace… a slice of heaven carved into a chaotic world.

Chen Enlai leaned against a lamp post, one hand adjusting the rifle slung over his shoulder while the other tousled his unruly red hair. His gaze lingered across the rooftops and stone terraces of New Willow, quietly marveling at how far it had come. Just five years ago, this was a struggling hamlet barely holding onto relevance. Now it looked like a city in miniature, its buildings reinforced with solid stone, its irrigation channels lined with copper plates to conduct low-grade qi for filtration. Even Head Council Wan Peng had admitted that it could soon rival even small prefectural capitals. Not bad for a "village."

It was hard to believe he’d been born here.

It was harder still to believe that Da Wei had done this.

Chen Enlai exhaled a slow breath. The memory of that day five years ago still clawed at the back of his mind… Da Wei, stepping up and challenging his own father to take his place in the conscription. It had been madness. It was brave, reckless, and unforgettable. Back then, Chen Enlai had thought he could do the same. With all the passion and immaturity of a ten-year-old, he’d thrown his fists at his own foster father. The result? A cracked rib, two missing teeth, and a week of soup. His strength had meant nothing before real training. But it had burned itself into his heart.

And four years later, only one man returned from that conscription… Da Wei. No one else.

Shaking his head, Chen Enlai stepped up to a plain-looking wooden house near the center of the village. The door still had scratch marks where Da Ji used to throw tantrums and kick it back in the time where she could afford being more unruly. He raised his fist and knocked twice, then once more.

"Hey, it’s me," he called, trying to keep his tone casual. "Your brother’s looking for you. Said to find you quick."

A muffled thump echoed inside, followed by an excited shriek. “I’m coming!” came Da Ji’s voice, far too energetic for someone who was likely still half-dressed.

An exasperated tone followed, sharp and unmistakably annoyed. “Don’t be a nuisance to your brother, girl,” Lin Wei barked from deeper inside. “You’re not a child anymore.”

The door flew open before Chen Enlai could respond. Da Ji stood there, one boot on, one boot off, hair only half-brushed and clothes a little crooked, grinning as if the world was made of candy.

“Lead the way!” she beamed.

Chen Enlai blinked, a momentary pause catching his breath in his chest. Five years had passed, and somehow, she hadn’t changed at all… or had changed too much in the ways that mattered. She still had the same bright grin, the same impulsiveness, but now she wore it all on a body that had matured far ahead of its emotional counterpart. Slender arms, long legs, and a neck that was far too exposed given the cut of her robes. The village gossips weren’t wrong… Da Ji had grown into a beauty.

Too much of one.

A sharp cough interrupted his thoughts.

“You enjoying the view, soldier?” Lin Wei asked coolly from inside, her eyes narrowed like drawn blades.

Chen Enlai nearly dropped his rifle. “N-nowhere! I mean, I wasn’t looking—”

“At my neck?” Da Ji asked sweetly, turning her head to the side, clearly teasing. “Or was it lower? You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Why was she like this?

“I said let’s go,” Chen Enlai mumbled, already turning to hide the burning red of his face. “Hurry up.”

As he started walking, he heard Da Ji laughing behind him, followed quickly by the clomp of mismatched boots trying to keep up.

“Wait, wait! I need to pick up my piece from the smithy!” she cried, catching up to him with a bounce in her step.

Not long ago, Chen Enlai had been a brat… snobby, reckless, and too full of himself. Back then, he’d strutted around with a chip on his shoulder, puffing his chest like he ruled the world. But things had changed. Life had a way of grinding the arrogance out of you, and in New Willow, growing up wasn’t a choice. It was survival.

Da Wei was only a few weeks older, but it felt like he belonged to an entirely different generation. Fifteen years old, and already a veteran of skirmishes. His name had been whispered along with tales of battlefield heroics, of slain demons and shattered formations. He wasn’t just strong… he was charismatic in that quiet, effortless way that made people trust him. Even Chen Enlai had to admit, the guy was like something out of a storybook. That didn’t mean Enlai had to match him. But surely, he could do something with his life. Escorting Da Ji around was a good start. It was the least he could do.

They reached the smithy after a short walk through the bustling market street. The air smelled of soot and oil, with sparks occasionally flashing from within the blackened shop. Da Ji skipped ahead, calling out to the forge master without even waiting for a greeting. She disappeared inside and came out moments later with her “piece”—a pair of strange guns the length of two palms, each snugly holstered at her waist. Sleek, oiled metal with a faint engraving of plum blossoms near the muzzle. They were a far cry from Chen Enlai’s long rifle.

He whistled. “Strange little things, aren’t they? Not much to look at compared to this bad boy.” He patted the polished wood of his rifle with no small amount of pride. “Mine’s bigger.”

Da Ji scoffed as she fastened her belt. “Yeah, and slower. I’ve got more penetrative power and faster reload time. These are called revolvers… or at least, that’s what Brother said they were called.” She gave one of them a playful twirl on her finger before sliding it back into place.

Chen Enlai scratched the back of his neck and laughed. Somehow, even her toys sounded cooler when her brother’s name was attached to them. Every time someone brought up Da Wei, it was just another reminder of how high the bar had been set. Inventions, martial prowess, leadership… Da Wei had it all. And here Chen Enlai was, trying not to stare too long at his sister’s collarbones.

“Yo!” came a shout from the alley beside the smithy. A familiar round figure jogged toward them, sweat dotting his forehead and a crooked grin on his face.

Ke Zhen waved them down, one hand clutching a bulging leather pouch. “Wait up! I got the rest of your stuff!” he puffed, coming to a stop beside them.

“Zhen?” Chen Enlai blinked. “Didn’t think we’d see you this early.”

Ke Zhen grinned, clearly proud of himself. “I’ve been up since the third bell. Master Xun had me sorting out the armory all morning. He’s letting me handle distribution now, so here—” He pulled open the pouch, revealing extra bullets, a powder flask, and a couple of wrapped pills. “For you two. Standard issue, plus some healing pills. Don’t tell anyone I gave them early.”

Da Ji tilted her head. “Isn’t this, like… special treatment?”

Ke Zhen laughed and wiped his brow with a soot-stained sleeve. “You get enough of that from your brother, don’t you? Besides, everyone knows you’re not just tagging along anymore. You’ve got Enlai here, and your aim’s better than most hunters. If anyone complains, I’ll just tell ’em the truth. Enlai’s the strongest in our cohort both in shooting ability and martial prowess, and you’re no slouch either.”

Da Ji puffed her cheeks, clearly trying to pretend she wasn’t pleased by the compliment.

Everyone in the village knew Da Ji had always hated martial arts, even after the ban for it had been lifted by the Chief. Most people assumed she was just lazy. But times changed, and with demons and beasts at their gates, even the laziest flower had to learn to bloom with thorns.

Fortunately, Da Wei had offered an alternative. The firearm. The “gun,” as he called it. It required discipline, precision, and care… not brute strength. And for people like Da Ji, it was a miracle. Still, Chen Enlai had always found it ironic. These so-called guns, products of strange ingenuity, had become more destructive than most martial arts techniques he'd seen. Somehow, wielding one didn’t carry the same connotation of violence as throwing a punch, even if both could kill just as easily.

“Oi,” Ke Zhen said, elbowing Enlai. “Share those bullets with Duyi when you see him, alright? I packed a few extra for his model too. He’s still running that modified musket.”

“Got it.” Enlai nodded and slung the pouch over his shoulder.

With supplies in hand and their load a little heavier, he turned toward the road that led north. The village wall waited in the distance, lined with makeshift barricades and training dummies… evidence of the drills that had become part of daily life.

The stairs leading to the northern wall creaked under the duo’s boots, worn smooth by constant use. The climb wasn't steep, but the weight on his shoulders felt heavier than usual.

Halfway up, they crossed paths with a familiar figure loitering near a stack of sandbags. Mai Duyi leaned against the stone, long-limbed and scrawny as ever, but with a calm, calculating look in his eyes that always made people underestimate him. Chen Enlai knew better. Duyi might’ve looked like he’d snap in half during strong winds, but he was the best marksman in their generation. Maybe even in the entire village. The guy could shoot the eye out of a rabbit from a moving platform.

“Oi, Enlai,” Duyi said, flicking a lazy salute with two fingers. “Got any spare rounds?”

Chen Enlai opened the pouch Ke Zhen had given him and tossed a small cloth bundle over. “Yeah. Compliments of Zhen. And don't waste them showing off.”

Duyi caught it with ease and flashed a rare grin. “No promises.” His gaze darted to Da Ji. “Little piggy, try not to get shot.”

“Ha. Try not to get bent like a twig,” Da Ji shot back, smirking.

The banter came easily, but it only briefly eased the tension that had settled on Enlai’s shoulders like a second skin. They parted ways, Duyi heading toward a sniper perch while Chen Enlai resumed the climb, Da Ji close behind. As they reached the top, the village spread beneath them… orderly rows of houses, smoke curling from chimneys, the distant hum of preparation echoing in the air. It was hard to believe such peace was so fragile.

Then he saw him. Da Wei stood near the edge of the wall, beside the slender form of Strategist Wen Yuhan, the wind catching the hem of her robe as she studied the horizon through a long bronze spyglass. Da Wei turned as they approached, his dark eyes locking onto Enlai’s, and for a moment, he looked surprised.

“Man,” Da Wei said, walking up and looking him over. “What did you eat to get taller than me? And here I though we’re about the same age!”

Chen Enlai straightened awkwardly. Da Wei hadn’t changed much physically, but everything about him felt heavier now. He carried command like a mantle, and Enlai barely recognized the boy he once tried to push around five years ago. “I, uh… ate well,” he muttered.

Before the awkwardness could thicken, Da Ji leapt forward. “Brother!” she called out, a little too excited. “You asked for me?”

Da Wei nodded, all business now. “Yeah. Southern Wall’s gonna crumble. When it does, I want you to hold the breach. Just for a while.”

Chen Enlai’s jaw clenched. That was suicide. He stepped forward instinctively, ready to object… but before he could open his mouth, Da Ji replied with a firm, “Understood.”

He blinked. She didn’t even hesitate. Even more stunning was how readily Da Wei accepted her answer. There was neither an argument nor any hesitation that ought to follow. Just a simple nod and a bit of silence.

However, that silence was broken by a sharp voice. “You seem conflicted, soldier,” said Wen Yuhan, her eyes narrowing at Enlai.

Chen Enlai froze. The look she gave him wasn’t just piercing… it was predatory, like a hawk appraising prey too close to her nest. It was instinct more than fear that made his fingers twitch toward his rifle.

Da Wei sighed, running a hand down his face. “That’s not funny, Wen. Are you flinging killing intent at him? He’s at Martial Tempering, damn it. He’s not built for that.”

Wen Yuhan’s eyes cooled, and she gave a light shrug, as if the sudden pressure she’d exuded had been nothing more than a joke.

“I volunteer,” Chen Enlai said, voice firmer than he felt. “To fight by her side.”

Da Wei blinked, then smiled slightly. “I’m glad you’re willing to go that far for my sister.”

Enlai stiffened. The way Da Wei said it… he didn’t know what was implied in those words. Gratitude? Approval? Or something else?

“But,” Da Wei continued, “I never planned on sending her alone. Yuen Fu’s unit will be supporting her.”

Before he could respond, Wen Yuhan interjected again, folding her arms with the elegance of a scholar-priestess. “I have a suggestion. Assign him to Ding Shan’s unit.”

Da Wei raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Yuen Fu’s squad is meant for mobility and evacuation. Chen Enlai here is a solid shooter and trained in close-quarters combat. That unit will need someone to hold ground, not just move fast. He’s better suited with Ding Shan’s team than on the walls.”

Da Wei rubbed his chin for a second, then gave a single nod. “I see. Makes sense. It’s decided, then. You’ll roll with Ding Shan’s unit, Enlai.”

Chen Enlai saluted. “Understood.”