Chapter 17 Enemy Attack
Ban returned, still reeking of gunpowder, his dark blue tribal robes stained with dried mud. He first went to his father to report on his mission, then headed straight for the corridor of the side courtyard.
Yan Sheng was sitting on the veranda, a scroll of clan history open on his lap. The golden rays of the setting sun fell on his pale profile, outlining a soft halo.
Ban paused, then walked to his younger brother and silently took out a small packet carefully wrapped in oiled paper from his pocket. The edges of the oiled paper were worn, indicating that it had been kept close to his body for a long time.
"I bought it when I passed through a border town in the land of rivers," Madara said calmly. "They say the honey there is very good and beneficial to the lungs."
Yan Sheng looked up and took the small bag, still warm from his body. Inside were several amber-colored candies, sticky and gleaming in the sunlight.
"Thank you, brother," Yan Sheng said softly. Then his gaze swept over Ban's fingers—there were new, fine scars on his knuckles, and a bandage was faintly visible under his sleeve.
Spot nodded, turned to leave, then turned back as if remembering something: "Did you take your medicine today?"
"Brother Izuna just brought some over," Yan Sheng said, putting a piece of candy in his mouth. The sweetness melted on his tongue, carrying a faint floral fragrance.
Ban grunted in agreement before finally turning and leaving.
Yan Sheng stared at Ban's tall, straight back, the faint smell of blood lingering in his nostrils. He lowered his eyes, his gaze landing precisely on the left side of Ban's robe, where there was a barely noticeable dark stain—dried blood.
The sweet taste of honey spread in his mouth. Yan Sheng turned back to continue reading the scroll in his hand.
***
The noise from the training field could be heard from a great distance.
Yan Sheng, carrying several scrolls that needed to be returned to the library, walked slowly along the path beside the field.
"...If you ask me, it's a waste of medicinal herbs..." a slightly shrill voice drifted over, "With that kind of constitution, even the best medicine won't help..."
Yan Sheng continued walking, as if he hadn't heard.
But just then, a silver light streaked through the air and pierced the wooden stake with a "thud." It was a practice shuriken, deeply embedded in the wood.
Izuna instantly moved in front of the person, his face expressionless, but his eyes were frighteningly cold.
"Very free?" Izuna's voice was calm, but it made the other man's face turn pale instantly. "Since you have so much free time, go and rebuild all the training targets in the southern forest."
The man hastily bowed and took his leave, almost running away. Only then did Izuna turn and walk towards Yan Sheng, the coldness on his face fading, replaced by a hint of helplessness.
"It's so windy, why are you out dressed like this?" He casually adjusted Yan Sheng's slightly open collar. "Next time, I'll have a servant deliver it for you."
“I want to walk around by myself,” Yan Sheng replied.
Izuna sighed, took a small paper packet from her pocket, and stuffed it into her younger brother's hand: "These are your favorite red bean cakes. Remember to eat them while they're hot."
Then he patted Yan Sheng on the shoulder and turned back to the training field.
Yan Sheng clutched the warm paper package and continued walking towards the library.
He discovered that his two older brothers particularly enjoyed feeding him.
***
Every day at the hour of You (5-7 PM), the aroma of medicine would punctually fill Yan Sheng's room.
Today, it was Ban who came to deliver the medicine. He sat down opposite Yan Sheng, carrying a bowl of thick, dark medicine, and then gently pushed the bowl towards Yan Sheng.
"The temperature is just right," Ban said succinctly.
Yan Sheng picked up the medicine bowl. A bitter smell wafted towards him, but he didn't even frown, quietly drinking the medicine in one gulp. Just as he swallowed the last mouthful, Ban timely handed him a candied fruit.
Yan Sheng took the candied fruit, took a bite, and the sweet and sour taste quickly washed away the bitterness in his mouth. At this moment, he noticed that Ban had a new wound on his hand, as if he had been injured by some kind of sharp weapon.
"The injury on your hand..." Yan Sheng had just started to speak when Ban interrupted him.
"It's alright." Madara lowered his hand and stood up. "You should rest."
After saying that, he picked up the empty medicine bowl and left.
Yan Sheng stared in the direction Ban had left for a long time before turning his gaze away. Then, he opened his palm, looked at the carefully pitted candied fruit in his hand, and slowly put it all into his mouth.
This routine has continued for five years. Rain or shine, or when he's busy with tasks, there's always an older brother who will appear on time, watch him finish his medicine, and then leave him a small dessert.
......
The morning mist had not yet dissipated when Yan Sheng was already standing at the edge of the training ground. His gaze swept across the area and quickly locked onto a scorched spot, the place where Madara usually practiced his Fire Release techniques.
He walked over and placed an inconspicuous cloth bag next to the training post. Inside were several fresh calming herbs.
Yesterday, he overheard Ban Xiang asking the tribal doctor about this medicinal herb, saying it was needed for a mission.
He went back thoughtfully to look up what the Tranquilizing Grass was, and then secretly went out for a while.
Of course, no one noticed.
As for why he did this, his older brother had always been good to him, and he didn't want to owe him a favor.
Yan Sheng moved very quietly, and after putting down the cloth bag, he left as if he had never been there.
A short while later, Madara arrived at the training ground and quickly spotted the cloth bag. He opened it and a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure.
It was probably Izuna who put it there.
Ban rewrapped the calming herb, then put it away and began his daily practice.
On the other side.
A strange doodle appeared on Izuna's desk. The little figure on the paper was crooked and distorted, with a few lines of text next to it—an analysis of the weaknesses of a mission objective that had been troubling him recently.
"What's this?" Izuna picked up the note, his brow furrowing slightly. "Who put this here?"
He looked around; the doors and windows were intact, with no signs of forced entry. Looking closer, he saw the handwriting on the note was mature and sharp, and the analysis of the target's weaknesses was frighteningly precise.
Could it be Madara...?
Look closely, the handwriting has a bit of Ban Ge's style. The others probably wouldn't be so free.
—Yes, it's confirmed. It was most likely Ban Ge who did it. He probably came up with this plan because he was afraid Ban Ge's pride would prevent him from accepting it.
Izuna relaxed his brow and tucked the note into his sleeve.
Yan Sheng watched quietly from the distance under the corridor. Only after seeing that Izuna accepted the gift did he turn and leave silently, like a ghost.
Time flies, and autumn is here again in the blink of an eye.
The maple trees planted in the courtyard were already soaked in the autumn colors, their leaves ablaze with color, like clusters of burning flames, swaying with intense yet lonely red in the bleak autumn wind.
On Yan Sheng's birthday, Madara and Izuna stayed at home and did not go out to do missions.
Kaori prepared a sumptuous meal, overjoyed that her youngest son had lived another year.
Ban gave him a custom-made short sword with an exquisite flame pattern engraved on the scabbard, but the blade was not yet sharpened.
"Take your medicine properly, and when you feel better," Ban said. "I'll teach you how to use a knife."
Izuna's gift was a close-fitting undergarment with a defensive rune array embroidered on the lining using a special technique, which could withstand a certain amount of damage.
In addition, Izuna once again gifted her a handmade doll.
—When Yan Shenggang was born, he gave him a fox; when Yan Sheng learned to walk, he gave him a tiger; and every year on Yan Sheng's birthday thereafter, he gave him dog, cat, and rabbit plush toys.
This year, Izuna sent a lamb.
As for the craftsmanship... well, I can only say that it has improved.
Yan Sheng looked at the adorably ugly sheep doll in his hand and was about to thank him when a sudden, urgent alarm pierced the sky.
An unidentified enemy has appeared on the outskirts of the clan's territory.
Madara and Izuna immediately stood up, and Kaori's expression instantly turned serious.
"Stay in your room." Ban patted Yan Sheng's shoulder. "We'll be back soon."
Izuna had already reached the door when he turned back and added, "The medicine is keeping warm in the kitchen. Remember to drink it."
Kaori smiled reassuringly at Yan Sheng, "Don't be afraid."
The door closed, and the footsteps quickly faded into the distance.
Yan Sheng lowered his eyes.
The sounds of explosions and shouts of battle could be faintly heard in the distance. He suddenly stood up and took out a plain, unremarkable wooden mask from his inner pocket.
The moment the mask was put on, his aura changed abruptly—the sickly young Uchiha boy disappeared, replaced by an existence that blended into the shadows.
He slid silently out the window, disappearing into the hazy twilight like a fallen leaf.
***
The setting sun, like blood, stained the gates of the Uchiha clan's territory with an ominous crimson.
A figure staggered out of the forest path, his dark blue Uchiha clan uniform now stained beyond recognition by blood and dust. He practically collapsed to the gate, and Uchiha Kazuhiro, who was on duty, immediately recognized him as Uchiha Takayuki, who had gone out on patrol with his squad that morning.
"Chongzhi!" He Hong rushed forward to support his kinsman, and his heart sank as he touched something warm and sticky.
Chongzhi grabbed He Hong's arm tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. He opened his mouth, but blood gushed out before he could speak.
"Thousand... Thousand Hands..." he managed to squeeze out the two words, his pupils already beginning to dilate.
Before He Hong could process the information, he caught a glimpse of a shuriken engraved with the Senju clan emblem, deeply embedded in Chongzhi's back, its tail feathers still trembling slightly!
It was just shot!
He Hong stiffened and looked up sharply in the direction from which the shuriken had been shot. There, in the shadow of a tree not far away, stood a figure.
The man was wearing the Senju clan's battle uniform, with a cold and hard face and empty eyes. He was Senju Seiji, the younger brother of Senju Butsuma, who was known for his bravery and irritability and was also the one that the Uchiha hated to the core.
"Senju Masaharu! How dare you—!" Kazuhiro's roar came to an abrupt halt.
Because "Seiji Senju" gave him an extremely strange, twisted smile that was completely out of character for him.
The next moment, a sharp pain shot through his chest. Kazuhiro looked down in disbelief and saw another identical shuriken embedded in his heart.
The speed was too fast; he couldn't even see the movements clearly.
Impossible... No way...
His consciousness rapidly faded, and before he was completely plunged into darkness, He Hong used his last bit of strength to pull hard on the rope of the alarm mechanism behind him.
"Woo-woo-woo-woo-"
The piercing alarm shattered the tranquility of the Uchiha clan's territory, startling countless crows and sparrows.
Meanwhile, "Senju Masaharu," who remained standing, widened his eerie smile. He glanced coldly at the two rapidly cooling corpses at his feet, then with a flicker, he retreated silently like a ghost, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.
Within the clan's territory, the alarm sounded like a death knell, instantly igniting everyone's nerves.
"Enemy attack?!"
"It's a maximum alert! From the direction of the main gate!"
The tranquil dusk was shattered as countless figures shot out from various houses and training grounds, like arrows released from a bow, rushing swiftly and orderly toward the gate.
A note from the author:
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[Sprinkling flowers]
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