Qiuyuan

Bambooscape

Miscellaneous Records of Mingting's Minister of Sentinel Affairs: Correspondence Collection My dear friend Dongyuan, A few days prior, the Internal Security Agency forwarded documents from the Justice Commission and the Huaxu Academy to the Ministry of Sentinel Affairs. Without delay, I instructed the Chongzhou official to assist in the matter and thoroughly examine the local Resonator register. It has now been confirmed that the individual in question has no connection with the Sentinel or the Threnodian of Chongzhou. According to the Ministry's records, this individual has been a Resonator for over fifteen years. Described as one who "sees the world through bamboos and hides his blade within them," he is blind yet wields a remarkable ability known as Mindsight. Through this power, he perceives his surroundings through a "bamboo forest" in his mind, enabling him to discern opponents' intentions and vulnerabilities. He can even manifest the Mindsight into tangible illusions. This is not a person to be underestimated. Moreover, his swordsmanship appears to stem chiefly from personal skill rather than his Resonance Ability. Observations indicate that he consistently restrains the use of his Resonance power. He claims that the bamboo flask he carries contains a concoction—prepared by a wandering healer in Chongzhou—that stimulates his Mindsight and Forte, and is used only when necessary. This matter may be forwarded to the Academy for further analysis. As for the detailed test data, please await the Academy's formal report... Dongyuan's annotation: Simply ensure this is recorded clearly. We follow the Ministry of Sentinel Affairs's judgment… My my, Lin still writes with his characteristic formality.

Miscellaneous Records of Mingting's Ministry of Sentinel Affairs: Correspondence Collection …In my recent observations over the past few days, it appears less that he refuses to employ his Forte and more that he consciously restrains himself from using it. Regarding the nature of the ability itself, he remains decidedly reserved. Only from the Academy's report may one glean a few particulars: Test subject waveform analysis presents an elliptical oscillation. Time-domain readings are stable, with no anomalous patterns observed. Resonant Criticality: High. Stability is high with no risk of Overclocking. No prior history of Overclocking. Psychological intervention is deemed unnecessary. Note: The subject admits to repeated offenses involving violent breaches of the law, though his demeanor was notably composed. It is recommended that these claims should be verified by the Ministry of Justice and local authorities in Chongzhou. …Yet, in my own assessment, this man harbors no murderous intent. His composure is unwavering, his demeanor steady. His swordsmanship is among the finest, and few in all of Mingting could rival him. He could have been a remarkable asset to the Internal Security Agency. That such an individual is listed in the Justice Commission's dossiers as a perpetrator of unlawful violence is difficult to believe. I have already communicated with the Ministry of Rites, outlining the advantages and implications of recruiting said individual. Should you wish to employ this man, I expect no obstacle shall arise on that account. Dongyuan's annotation: Naturally, the steadier the better. But judging from this report... isn't this lad a little too devoid of emotion?

"Every mountain stands as a trial. Pass this one, and you are free to take your own path. Fail… then this mountain shall keep what you have."

Those were the first words Qiuyuan heard from the old man five years ago, spoken in a hell of fire and blood. Words impossible to forget.

He called him Master, though he never knew his face. A white-bearded elder in rags, perhaps. The old man trained Qiuyuan relentlessly, taught him martial arts sharp enough to let him "see" the bamboo forest swaying in his mind.

Rumors about his master spread like mist. Some said he was the Sword Specter of Chongzhou, a butcher who left trails of corpses in his wake. Others whispered that he had once been Mingting's celebrated general, a conqueror of vast lands whose power nearly rivaled that of the Huanglong ruler, only to fade into solitude after a fall from grace. And there were those who claimed he was no more than a myth. After all, who could believe a mortal could slay a mountain of Tacet Discords with nothing but a bamboo stick?

But Qiuyuan believed. For five years, he enjoyed countless victories, but never once bested his master.

"You said the same words five years ago, Master."
"Five years… gone in a blink."

Qiuyuan had been waiting for this day. Defeat this old man, and he could leave the bamboo forest, cross this mountain, and finally, surpass the one who had always won.

"I've taught you almost everything. But the last move, the most vital one, I'm still keeping for myself. Do you know what it is?"
"I beg for your teachings, Master."
"Then tell me, Qiuyuan, what does the bamboo forest show you?"
"Leaves like spears. Stalks hiding dangers. Shadows upon shadows, like ghosts surrounding me."
"So, the flame from five years ago is still burning in your heart."
"Isn't it also burning your heart.... Sword Specter?"
"It has been... many years since the last living soul called me by that name. Very well, I see you don't need more explanation. Now, come take the final move from me."

It was he who wrought the hell of fire and blood five years ago. It was also he who brought Qiuyuan out of that hell of fire and blood.

"I shall not disgrace your teachings with my sword!"

The flame has never died.

"Lie still. Don't even think of moving."

A harsh voice reached Qiuyuan as he awoke, body aching, wounds bound. Yet within it lingered a gentleness so unlike the killing intent he had grown used to. It was then that the memory of how he came to be broken in the first place returned.

"I…"
"You killed dozens with your bare hands. Not a creative way to beg for death, I'd say."
"…I should be dead."
"Many who live deserve to die, and many who died should have lived. Such is fate."

Regret tangled in vengeance had taught Qiuyuan when to sheathe the blade. But it couldn't cleanse the hatred he had carried for five long years. The flame that couldn't be quenched by the pouring rain from five years ago is still burning vividly in his mind, just like the old man who once stood before him among the fires, with a sword in his hand.

But there had been no rain when he left the mountain. Only liquor dripping down his face and a whispering sigh.

A hatred born of blood may only be washed away by blood in return. But what comes after? No one ever knows.

He was left with no reason to raise his sword. When his opponents' weapons struck, he simply stood and let them come...

"Heh… whether you deserve life or death, I cannot say," that voice murmured. "The choice lies with you alone."

And so, Qiuyuan laid aside his blade. With only a bamboo stick in hand, he idled outside the hut as decoctions simmered on the stove, spending his days picturing the patients who came, and the stubborn middle-aged man they called Doctor Zhang.

For the first time in years, he enjoyed peace again. Since the day Doctor Zhang saved him, he could not "see" the bamboo forest of blades anymore—only pure, silent darkness, free of hatred and rage. There were sighs and tears, words of gratitude and joy, the scent of medicine, and the crackle of stove fire.

It was moments like these that made him realize he was no different from the ordinary.

"Here, take this flask. And my recipe too. You need three bowls of water for one bowl of decoction. Keep that in mind."
"…What's this?"
"My potent regimen pulled you back from death that day, but your Forte has been crippled.
This medicine restores your Mindsight, at least for a little while. It will be of some help on the day you raise your sword again."
"I won't. You saved me, Doctor. The least I can do is stay and take care of sundry matters for you."
"I don't think so. Bloodshed clings to your face. Your palm's lifeline is cut off. Followed by fears, haunted by distress... You are bound to die in battle, not of old age here in my hut."
"Followed by fears, haunted by distress... My master once told me the same."
"Master, you say? To have a disciple like you… He must be a tough nut."
"…Even so, Doctor, I will not take up the blade again. But I'll accept your recipe. Let me stay here. If trouble comes to this hut because of me, I'll leave."
"Well… medicine is like a blade. It all comes down to the usage and dosage. It can kill, but also save."
"Now, go open the door, Qiuyuan. Light the stove. I won't claim I'm better than you, but no one dares stir trouble under my roof. That I can guarantee."

"Hah… all that strength wasted in the wilderness. How will you answer the lives that fell beneath your blade?"
"You've got the wrong man. Doctor, another patient is here."

Qiuyuan ignored the older man and kept tending firewood under the stove. At first, the man had merely come by to exchange idle words with Doctor Zhang. Later, he began appearing more often, spouting riddles and nonsense.

This time, though, he suddenly hurled a fist-sized iron weight at Qiuyuan. Instinct took over. Qiuyuan raised his hand and caught it against his brow without flinching.

"You're the Doctor's friend. Why treat me so?"
"You should recognize what you're holding."

The beast's head, forged from the finest steel, radiated a chill that ran down the spine. Yes, there was no mistaking it.

"The Internal Security Agency… are you here to arrest me?"
"If you are a wanted man, I wouldn't be the one to catch you. You've left behind a trail of death. Normally, the Justice Commission would prosecute your crimes."
"Then let them do it."
"...Do you truly wish to die on the execution ground?"
"Death comes either way. What difference does it make?"
"It would be a waste of your strength."
"…"
"Blood debts are paid in blood. That is the natural order. Perhaps the noose is your end, but before then, you can at least make up for some of what you've done."
"Come with me. I can't spare you from your death penalty, but I can promise you this—you won't rot in a cell, nor waste away on a sickbed."

Qiuyuan knew the power of Mingting's ISA all too well. That iron head of the Qiongqi beast, bestowed by Huanglong's highest authority, embodies the Emperor's very presence. Wherever it appears, officials must bow low. Its envoys traverse the realm unfettered by any court, answering only to the throne, entrusted with only the gravest matters. Should they seek a man's life, not even death itself dares to intervene.

"You may wield a sword for yourself, sure, but you may also raise it for the greater good. Serve Mingting, punish the wicked, shield the innocent."
"I am but a blind man. The weight of the greater good is far heavier than I can bear."

The man picked up a piece of wood and stared at the stove.

"Do you know why Doctor Zhang left Mingting?"
"…No. He never said, and I never asked."
"To heal all, rather than to heal one."

The man chucked his firewood under the stove and spoke no more.

Three days later, Qiuyuan stood with the man at the hut's door. The mountain dew of Chongzhou's deep valleys had yet to soak their straw hats. No smoke rose from the stove's chimney. Only the faint dawn light touched them.

"He must have told you why I left Mingting… Hmph.
That man from the Internal Security Agency is... like me, stubborn to a fault. But perhaps that is why he could persuade you to follow him.
The world is vast. All I can do is try my best to save more lives. But that man, Liang Dongyuan… he's the one in court who can 'save' people.
The time has arrived. Go now. Linger here too long, and you'll only scare my patients away."

The doctor patted Qiuyuan's shoulder and slipped into the hut without a backward glance, leaving him no chance to reply.

Years later, Qiuyuan would still recall that morning, prostrating on the dirt path worn smooth by countless patients.

"Thank you, Doctor. For everything."

Shackles clattered in the prison cell.

Qiuyuan sat within, no different from the corrupt officials and rogues he had once cast into jail.

"Open the gate."
"B-but, Minister Lin, the execution is about to begin—"
"Open it."

The bars groaned as the cell gate slid open. A man stepped inside, bringing with him the faint aroma of food and wine.

"What now? You here to supervise the Ministry of Sentinel Affairs?"
"Forgive me, Minister… I'm only carrying out my duty."
"Very well. Then you must know that the Ministry of Sentinel Affairs is required to question every felon before their execution. Now, I must also fulfill my duty. Leave. All of you."
"As you command…"
"And lock the gate. I will summon you when I am done."

Hurried footsteps faded, leaving only the two of them within the cell.

"The execution is supposed to begin at noon, the forty-fifth minute. You're an hour and a half early."
"…Are you here to see me off, Master Lin?"
"First, drink this. A toast to his memory."

Qiuyuan rose slowly, the heavy chains dragging against the ground. He took the cup, but instead of drinking, poured the wine onto the ground—a libation for the dead.

"Sigh… Only you were there when Dongyuan met his wretched end. This is such a dire case that even the top brass are watching. With no trace left by the true culprit, the Justice Commission had no choice but to scapegoat you."
"I could not save Grandmaster Liang. That failure is mine alone."
"Do you still recall the fiend who… peeled themselves from Dongyuan's body?"
"I'll never forget their frequency, even if they were reduced to ashes."
"The Ministry scoured every record, but nowhere was there mention of a Resonator who could take on another's form and body."
"…I cannot say if some fragment of Grandmaster Liang still lingered in that moment."
"Perhaps Dongyuan was no longer himself when he sent you on that case in Jinzhou. A man so righteous would have never ordered the pursuit of a minor official who only killed Tacet Discords to protect the people."
"That is why I spared him—that man, Geshu Lin. The Grandmaster Liang I knew would never have given such an order."
"Dongyuan was never wrong about you. If you wish to know the truth behind his death, you can only begin from that case. Though I fear… you may never sort everything out."
"I have spilled more than my share of blood. But because of you, Grandmaster Liang, and Doctor Zhang, I was able to live differently, if only for a time… I could only repay such trust in another life."

The Minister moved toward the gate. His face was solemn, but his eyes held a firm reassurance.

"Dongyuan once promised that you would not end your life in a cell or on a sickbed."
"According to Mingting's law, to execute a felon like you, the Justice Commission must first receive a decree approved by both the Emperor and the Sentinel, forwarded by the Ministry of Sentinel Affairs. The execution can only be carried out an hour after they receive the decree."
"Without those writs returned, no man dares execute you."
"Therefore, Qiuyuan, remember: from now on, the path ahead is yours alone. Even if it costs you your life, you must see this case to its end. If you are to die, let it be on the road to avenging Dongyuan."

Five years had passed since he had escaped Mingting and became a wanted fugitive across the six cities.

While Mingting remained unchanged—bustling and prosperous, his own clothes had grown tattered, worn by the dust and frost of the endless journey across Huanglong. Minister Lin from the Ministry of Sentinel Affairs had fallen ill and retired. The young man who had survived his blade became a general guarding the border, but even he had fallen to the madness of the Threnodian.

His master had taught him when to draw the sword and when to sheath it. Yet when he held back, everything had plunged into the abyss.

The doctor once said that a sword could both kill and save. Yet he had failed to save the one he wished to.

Fate twisted relentlessly. Everything had changed, yet somehow, nothing really changed. He still had not found the one who killed Grandmaster Liang. But he had never stopped seeking the truth.

If Minister Lin had not sent word of a lead from the Grand Marshal, the head of the Ministry of War, he might never have dared return to Mingting.

"You've come."

Through the torrential rain, a straw-hatted figure emerged from the shadow of the bridge, face hidden.

"Scar, the Fractsidus Overseer, escaped from Jinzhou's prison not long ago.
Intel places him near Septimont City in Rinascita. He's a wanted criminal of Jinzhou and of Huanglong. He must be captured."
"You could do it yourself."
"Rinascita's different. Individuals who resemble the Threnodian's Resonator have been sighted there."
"…So this reminds you of me?"
"You were the key to Dongyuan's case, and Geshu Lin is the key to your case. Since Jinzhou's Threnodian is what brought Geshu Lin down… Follow the thread, and you may learn why Dongyuan gave you that order, and... perhaps discover the true culprit.
Everything on Fractsidus and Rinascita's Threnodian is in this dossier. Take this letter with my seal and start with Jinzhou. Your niece, the Magistrate's Bodyguard, is there. Find out how Scar escaped, then head east to Rinascita."

Qiuyuan rarely saw this distant niece, let alone spoke to her, given the long distances between cities. All he knew was that she had become the Jinzhou Magistrate's bodyguard.

"She may not meet me."
"She will. You are family. She will believe in your words. Also… {PlayerName} is in Rinascita."
"…That {PlayerName}?"
"Yes. You may ask {Male=him;Female=her} about what happened in Jinzhou as well."
"…Understood. Give me the dossier. I'll leave at once."

Qiuyuan turned, but the figure called after him.

"Wait! Since you're back, visit Dongyuan. I know you offer incense at his grave every year."
"I'll find the clues first, then return to honor his spirit. As for that fugitive you mentioned…"
"Capture him if you can, execute him if you can't. I'll handle the Justice Commission."
"Understood."

Qiuyuan nodded, vanishing into the rain without further words.

He knew he carried the weight of unseen court intrigues. Mingting would not even formally assign someone to capture Scar. He, a lone fugitive, was entrusted to do so. Yet he didn't care. His aim was simple: uncover the truth that he had been denied.

And when that day came—when vengeance was taken, debts repaid—then what? Would that be the sheath he had been seeking?

Perhaps, with age, he would finally know.