Legends are usually only written after their subject has passed away, but Zhang Jun Feng was very much alive. From the far expanses of the Western border to the heart of Jinling, stories were told about the conquests of Zhang Jun Feng. In each corner of the empire, he was known by a different name: the Eastern Wind along the trading posts of Lumin, the Reincarnated Guan Yu in the rural villages of Qingyun, the Demon General in the capital of Jinling. The grandeur of his titles paled in comparison to his true demeanor.
As the capable protege of the general of the imperial army, Zhang Jun Feng was sent on a year-long expedition to Lumin to quell the rebellions instigated by neighboring empires. As the Eastern Wind returned to the East, it was the Demon General that glared down at Li Qin from his lofty seat on his horse.
It was hard to imagine that Zhang Jun Feng and Li Qin grew up in the same household. In fact, the two were kept as distant as possible: Zhang Jun Feng would complain of Li Qin's music disrupting his sword practice, while Li Qin found his standoffish attitude utterly unbearable.
Today was not the day that Zhang Jun Feng would change. Without a word, much less any semblance of an apology, Zhang Jun Feng turned his horse and trotted away.
Li Qin felt an aggravated tightening in his chest, but before he could conjure up a curse to throw at his vanishing figure, Hua Zhen interjected, "Are you alright, young master?"
His heart relaxed at her concerned voice. "I am fine." Li Qin turned to face his savior. "Thank you for your help. Please allow me to treat your wound at the Zhang household."
The mysterious man only shook his head in response, and he too disappeared down the now littered street.
Li Qin settled his disarrayed thoughts. "Let us go home then, A-Zhen. We should greet Zhang Jun Feng formally with the rest of the household."
The Zhang manor was more lively than it had ever been. Celebratory decorations adorned its gates, colorful ribbons grazing his cheeks as Li Qin entered. Stepping into the main hall, Li Qin bowed in greeting to General and Lady Zhang.
Lady Zhang doted on Zhang Jun Feng, holding his face as if to check for newly formed scars. For a moment, Li Qin nearly smiled at his boyish appearance. General Zhang dropped a heavy hand on Li Qin's shoulder and guided him to the pair. "We are finally together again. Let us rejoice in the great success of Feng'er."
Zhang Jun Feng seemed to swell with pride. "I will pour a drink for us to share, Father." As he turned to pour the fine wine, a minister arrived in the hall with a golden scroll of the imperial family. Everyone kneeled to the floor, awaiting the imperial edict.
The minister began to read, "Li Qin, young master of the Zhang household, has been recognized throughout Jinling for his knowledge of the musical arts and talents in pipa performance. By request of His Highness, Crown Prince Yan and North star of the empire, Li Qin has been requested to join the Court of Imperial Musicians. Come accept this edict."
Li Qin raised his head; his eyes finding Zhang Jun Feng, a tense expression across his face though his eyes still trained on the ground. Li Qin collected the scroll from the minister. "I thank the great imperial family for their immense kindness and recognition of my still lacking skills."
The minister departed quickly, and murmurs began sprouting among the servants.
"Congratulations, Qin'er! A remarkable accomplishment bringing honor to the Zhang household." General Zhang patted Li Qin's back, and Lady Zhang approached with an open embrace. "Another occasion for celebration! Come now, Qin'er, let us have a drink."
Li Qin managed a stiff smile, his eyes now meeting Zhang Jun Feng's, which seemed to smolder like hot coals.
"Wait up, young master!" Hua Zhen called, lugging Li Qin's bags as they arrived at the Imperial Palace.
Li Qin laughed lightly, signalling for the guards guiding them to pause for a moment. "I told you I could carry my own belongings, A-Zhen."
"No, no. You must not strain your hands, young master. This is what I am here for." Hua Zhen smacked her chest proudly to show her strength.
"Come along now."
The entourage walked leisurely through the grandiose courtyard of the Western Palace. The head guard abruptly halted, causing a distracted Hua Zhen to bump her head with a pained huff. "This is where you will be staying, Young Master Li. Please take your time settling into your new home."
The building was facing a gaudy fountain, lotus blossoms crowding the pond below until the water was barely visible. A gold-plated sign hung above, flamboyantly declaring itself the White Lotus Pavilion.
Li Qin could not help but laugh at the irony. Even calling this place a replica would be an insult.
The White Lotus sect was a place where one could truly believe magic existed. The cultivation of the sect's musical healers caused magic to seep through the land into every living being. Lotuses bloomed year-round, and the creatures lived in harmony with the people.
Li Qin could now only remember the sounds of his home — the majestic calls of the birds, the chime of the mountain wind, the crystalline cascade of the waterfall — the same way he could only remember a faint outline of his parents' faces, despite tracing it in his mind each night.
He could only recall the pipa his father had made him in full: the weight of the carved wood, the strings that carved into his fingertips, the first chords his father had taught him. It was the first thing he had watched burn that night, though fire soon consumed everything in sight.
"Mother, my pipa!" Li Qin had shouted as his mother led him inside their home.
His mother crouched beside him and patted his head softly. "Be good, QinQin. I will have Father make you a new one if you wait here patiently."
Before Li Qin could protest, his mother had left with her guqin to face the invaders on their land.
Li Qin climbed on the window and watched as the pipa that he had dropped on the ground in his haste suddenly ignited in charcoal flames. A screeching melody thrummed in his eardrums. He squeezed his palms against his ears until he could feel his skull throb beneath his fingertips, but the song still invaded his senses, the song that would haunt his nightmares for years to come. Hua Zhen, who had been in the house, began to cry.
Attracted to the sound, a grotesque creature plowed through the wall. The pieces of its decaying skin were held together by curls of black smoke, which began to shed from the impact. The children were paralyzed in fear as the creature slinked closer, baring its rotten teeth dripping with foul saliva.
Li Qin's nanny — Hua Zhen's mother — took the children in her arms and stumbled out of the house. The creature began to chase after them, but Li Qin's mother played a reverberant chord on her guqin, catching its attention. As they escaped, Li Qin could only watch as the creature devoured his mother in flames. Cries clawed their way up Li Qin's throat, but he held a small hand against his mouth, not wanting his mother's sacrifice to be made in vain.
As they traversed the ruined landscape, Li Qin could only see fire; it seemed as if the very air they breathed had ignited and wished to snuff out all of the life of the land. At the border of the sect was a waterfall, a hidden cave carved beneath its rapids. Hua Zhen's mother set the two children on the cold floor of the cave.
Hua Zhen grasped her mother's sleeve, suppressed cries finally bubbling to the surface. She tried to form words, but her irregular breaths let nothing escape from her lips.
Hua Zhen's mother firmly pushed her away. "I must return to help the Grand Master," she hesitated, "and my Lady. Always stay with Young Master Li Qin, and you will both be safe."
Li Qin could not recall how long they had waited in that cave. He could feel Hua Zhen begin to shiver in his tight embrace but determined the cold was better than burning. She flinched each time a ghostly scream reverberated through the cave, but even when silence fell, neither dared to move.
After several nights, a warm light bathed the dark stone of the cave. A domineering man marched into view, tailed by a brigade of soldiers. He approached Li Qin cautiously, but Li Qin was fixated on the flaming embers of his torch and trembled in terror.
"Extinguish all the torches," the man commanded his men, and the lights were slowly smothered by darkness.
Perhaps Li Qin was looking for something to cling onto, but in the milky moonlight, the man's scruffy face looked kind.
The man held out an ash-stained hand that appeared all too comforting in that moment. "Come with me, child. I promise you will be safe."
Li Qin's heart ached as he looked upon the White Lotus Pavilion. A wilted lotus blossom hung by the edge of the pond, suffocated in the overfilled water. Whistling quietly, he touched its withered petals, and they unfurled with new life. He smiled bitterly; despite his efforts, the flower would surely die soon, and like it, Li Qin knew the Imperial Palace was no place for him.
His kind was meant to be extinct, their luminous magic purged from this dark world. But, Li Qin had been cursed with life and with it the vengeance of his kin. Guised as musical studies, he searched across the empire for record of that haunting melody but to no avail. The only place he could hope held answers was the heart of Jinling, the Imperial Palace.