Deep within the furthest reaches of the Kuángfēng region, where the desert winds never cease to whisper like the wailing of forgotten souls, stood the estate of the Su Family. This place was an anomaly; an oasis of peace isolated from the madness of the outside world. While the skies on the distant horizon always appeared dark with the soot of the rulers' ambitions, the Su Family lived in a solemn and harmonious silence.
For over a thousand years, this family had been the steadfast guardians of tradition. Led by Su Wanbau, they were an entity that knew only the language of the soil and the scales of trade. Agriculture and commerce were their lifeblood, a hereditary legacy whose name echoed mysteriously even unto the dark corridors of the capital. However, to them, power was nothing but a rotten burden that harmed the common people. They turned a deaf ear to every political narrative, ignoring every lip that tried to tell tales of warfare. For them, tranquility was a non-negotiable price, maintained with absolute indifference.
But, the mystery of that tranquility shattered exactly when the sun was at its palest point.
The sound came not as a warning, but as a threat that shook the very foundations of the house. Dust billowed high, not because of a sandstorm, but due to the thundering boots of a group of imperial troops storming in, their Baja Satam armor glinting darkly. They did not come to negotiate; they came to claim lives.
Su Wanbau stood at the front line, his aging face appearing firm beneath the shadows of tension. Behind him, from the crack of an ancient teak door, Su Lan watched with bated breath. She saw how the sanctity of her home was defiled by the scent of rust and the sweat of soldiers.
"We only wish to request a few men, not your wealth," said a General, his heavy voice echoing coldly from behind his faceguard. His eyes, hungry for obedience, swept over the men of the Su family who had just reached the age of twelve, as well as those who had already reached the Ranah Prajurit.
Su Wanbau did not flinch. His voice was low yet contained a sharp authority. "I do not care. I only wish to live in peace without the affairs of the government. Besides, our family always pays whatever taxes the King decrees. Take our coins, but do not touch our blood."
That response triggered a haunting silence, before the General finally snorted coldly. To him, refusal was treason, and the pride of the empire could not be bargained for with a bag of gold.
"Destroy this place," the General commanded flatly. "If they will not surrender their sons voluntarily, then let their corpses become fertilizer for this land."
At that very moment, swords were drawn. The sound of splintering wood and screams of despair began to break the thousand-year silence. Su Lan felt her heart pounding—the resentment that had been buried all this time now erupted into a flame. She watched her world's order collapse, not because of a natural disaster, but because of the greed of men hungry for power.