The tenth lunar month, year of Yihai. A moonless night.
"Not sure if the wind rises from the north tonight... or the south?"
Su Zhenyi lay motionless on the beam, silent as a dead leaf.
No one answered.
The tea bubbled in the brazier. The man poured two cups, his voice drifting lazily: "New leaves from the Southern Tang's palace worth a hundred gold per ounce. The scent truly lives up to the price."
Still, Su Zhenyi did not move.
He was waiting.
For an opportunity.
Within this tent, there were five men he could match in a hundred moves, Three he could handle in ten, And only one with whom he had but one chance.
And he had only one chance.
One strike. Live or die, succeed or fail All would be decided in that single breath.
The man lifted his cup. His guard was down. Now!
There was no sound, no shadow Only a gust of falling leaves, And then, a flash of cold light. Su Zhenyi was already upon him.
Like wind upon the reeds, the blade Moon Slash had found its mark, crossing the man's throat, edge poised for the final stroke.
One slash, and he would fulfill his old lord's dying wish carve out a corner of peace for the remnants of Southern Tang.
But the blade slowed, again.
He heard the man ask, "What draws your sword?"
"...What?"
"For loyalty? For brotherhood? Or... for the world?"
Silence swept through the tent like a falling snow.
Then a steely clang. The blade returned to its sheath.
Sometimes, to not kill is a kind of killing. And to kill... is not always to end.
Life and death are not in the sword, but in the heart that wields it.
"The sun will rise," the man said calmly. "Dust will settle. Why must you slash the moon in darkness?"
"I have a blade. Its name is Ghostspirit. Tonight, I give it to you. Take it, and guard peace for the Song."
"Far to the east lies an isle called Fallen Deities a sanctuary of martial arts. Why not seek the truth of the sword there?"
Su Zhenyi remained silent. From the south, a wind stirred, lifting the curtain.
He felt as if waking from a long, long dream. The fall of Southern Tang was no longer in question.
And now, in this vast world, alone and unbound, he looked around him. Only silence remained.