Qianling District – Western Sancheng
The night air was damp and cold as Lin Xi walked through the narrow alleys of Qianling District. Though it was late, a few oil lamps still flickered outside old houses, casting moving shadows on the cracked stone walls. This was once a haven for refugee families from various regions—among them, Yulin, now nothing more than a name buried in the history of a disaster.
At last, Lin Xi arrived at the house she had been looking for. Its wooden door was weathered, tied shut with an old rope. In front of it stood an elderly man, his body hunched, hair completely white. His small eyes were clear, like those of someone who had seen too many secrets.
"Who are you?" he asked hoarsely, cracking the door open just slightly.
"I'm just a traveler from the north," Lin Xi said softly. "I was given this address by someone at the market. Master Su Lang mentioned you. He said… you’re one of the few remaining from the Yulin refugee group."
The old man narrowed his eyes, sharp and suspicious. "And why are you looking for me?"
Lin Xi held his gaze for a moment, then reached into the inner pocket of her cloak. She pulled out a small silver badge shaped like a shield, engraved with a faded lotus motif—the emblem of the Han family. She held it firmly, then slowly extended it.
“My name is… Wei Lin Xi. But you might not recognize that name. I’m the child raised by General Han Jue of Bei Yun. Before he died… he told me that if anything ever happened to him, I was to come to Sancheng… and find someone with the surname Gu.”
The deep lines on the old man’s face tensed. His fingers trembled as he raised a hand to peer at the silver badge from a distance.
“…Han… Jue?” he whispered. “Did you say… he’s dead?”
Lin Xi gave a slow nod. “He was killed three years ago… ambushed while trying to protect me.”
The old man covered his mouth, his body quivering. “I… I didn’t know… I thought he just vanished again, like he always did—moving from place to place, staying out of sight… We hadn’t heard from him in over a decade.”
Silence fell. The sound of crickets outside seemed to grow louder in the stillness.
Lin Xi stepped forward. “Before he died, he mentioned your name. He didn’t get to say much… but I know he meant for me to find you.”
The old man—Gu Cheng—was quiet for a long while. Finally, he turned his bent body and gestured for Lin Xi to come inside.
The house was dark, thick with dust and the scent of rotting wood. In the back corner, Gu Cheng lifted a carved wooden box from beneath the floorboards.
“This…” he muttered, opening the box slowly. Inside was a velvet cloth wrapping several old letters and a small pendant engraved with the character Han (韓).
“This was left with me twenty-one years ago… They said it was meant for someone who would come in the future. I never thought that person would be… a young girl.”
Lin Xi’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at the items. A strange sense of familiarity washed over her—as if the shadows of her past were reaching out to touch her.
She carefully unrolled one of the letters on a small wooden table. The oil lamp beside them cast flickering light across the ink, as if the words themselves were coming back to life.
---
“18th day of the 7th month, that year—
I received an imperial order from the palace, delivered by a messenger bearing full regalia. The decree commanded the Han troops to move north immediately, citing a major threat from enemy forces crossing the border.
But when we arrived, there was nothing—no resistance, no enemy, only silence.
On the third day of setting camp, a storm of arrows rained from the cliffs.
We were ambushed.
Half of our men died. The rest scattered.
I knew then this was not the work of foreigners. The arrows bore the markings of the inner court. This was betrayal from within.
I investigated further and discovered the seal on the military decree was forged. The handwriting wasn’t the Grand Marshal’s. According to my sources, the Prime Minister was behind it. He wanted the Han forces wiped out.
But I had no solid proof. I was trapped.”
---
Lin Xi frowned as she read, heart pounding faster with each line.
---
“Days into our escape—I’ve lost count—we encountered a group of refugees from Yulin. One of them was named Gu Cheng. He gave us shelter and helped us recover.”
---
Gu Cheng’s expression softened with old memories as Lin Xi turned her gaze to him, eyes clouded. He wiped away a tear with his wrinkled hand.
“I only took them to the ruins of an abandoned hot spring bath. They stayed there for two months. Han Jue… he was wounded. But never—not once—did he lose his composure.
Every night, he wrote.
Wrote and wrote.”
Lin Xi clenched her fists, a wave of rage rising within her as she recalled Shen Jing’s despicable face—the mastermind she had met at the banquet.
“So this is it… this is why they silenced Master. The Prime Minister and his cronies feared the last witness might speak.
They trapped the Han troops, branded them traitors to the empire… and let history record it without question.”
Gu Cheng nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s why the former emperor ordered the entire Han family executed. But due to General Han’s service and merit, he was granted mercy. His noble status was stripped, reduced to that of a commoner—no better than a slave.”
Gu Cheng let out a heavy breath before continuing, “After that, General Han exiled himself and vanished from the world. That was the last I ever heard of him.”
The room fell silent once more.
Lin Xi stared long at the letter before gently rolling it back up. Her hands trembled, but her gaze was sharp as a blade now.
“This… I’ll keep. And one day, Shen Jing will watch the truth he buried… rise right before his eyes.”
Gu Cheng placed a gentle hand on Lin Xi’s shoulder and gave a faint smile.
“I know nothing about war or the politics of those in power… But as an old man who has outlived his time, let me give you some advice—
Before you go to war, arm yourself well.
One weapon is not enough to defeat a thousand trained soldiers.”
> One weapon is not enough to defeat a thousand trained soldiers…
So I must gather more proof—more arrows for my bow—until I can drag Shen Jing’s head to the execution block.
As if sensing her thoughts, Gu Cheng added quietly, “If you really were raised by General Han Jue… then you must know,
Not all truths are kind when exposed to the light.”