Chapter 1: Strings in the Dust
The city of Eastern Yu never slept, but Jin Zhen often wished it would—just long enough for him to catch his breath.
He sat cross-legged on the edge of a crumbling fountain, fingers resting on the warped strings of a half-rotted guqin. Coins clinked into his bowl like drops of pity. Most passed him by with a glance, distracted by flashier cultivator bands that roamed the city center with glowing instruments and bodyguards.
But Jin?
He had nothing but calloused fingers, a frayed cloak, and a core that refused to circulate qi properly.
Still, he played.
The song was raw, imperfect, but honest. Every note told a story—of hunger, of heartbreak, of trying again tomorrow. His music didn't shimmer with light, but now and then, someone stopped and wept.
Those were the moments he lived for.
Until tonight.
"Out of the way, gutter-rat."
A boot kicked his instrument. The sound cracked like broken glass.
Jin looked up, heart dropping. A gang of robed men with glowing zither bracers blocked the street. The Silver Talons, an elite sect-sponsored band known for flashy stage combat and cruelty.
"I said move," their leader snapped. "This is our turf."
Jin's lips tightened. "The streets belong to no one."
The man's hand twitched—and a sonic blast ripped from his bracelet. It slammed into Jin's chest, sending him flying backward.
His guqin skittered across the stones, strings snapped, wood splintered.
Pain exploded in his back. His dantian pulsed weakly, refusing to stabilize his breathing.
He coughed blood.
The crowd jeered or walked away.
Except for one.
A woman in black stepped through the smoke.
Her presence was electric—tight leather corset over crimson silk, raven-black hair with silver-threaded braids, and golden eyes that glowed with playful menace.
She looked at Jin Zhen like he was a riddle—and her answer.
Then she turned to the Silver Talons.
"I hate off-key assholes," she said—and struck a chord.
Her zither exploded into sound.
A shockwave of spiritual energy pulsed outward, sending every member of the Talons flying like dolls.
Jin watched from the ground, stunned.
The woman walked over, knelt, and brushed blood from his lips with her thumb.
"You've got a lovely heart," she said softly, her breath warm. "Shame about your qi."
"Who… are you?"
"Mei Lian. And you—" her gaze flicked to his broken guqin, "—have a voice the world's tried to silence."
She smiled.
"I'm going to help you scream."