Shadows of the Legends
Chang'an... The celestial metropolis and the unyielding pinnacle of power. It was here that the First Sovereign, Liu Bei, and the Grand Chancellor, Zhuge Liang, fulfilled a sacred vow to reclaim the heart of the empire. In other cycles of history, that dream may have withered into ash; but in this world, the armies of Shu-Han shattered the once-impenetrable walls and hoisted the Golden Dragon banner high above the gates of Chang'an, altering the fate of the Middle Kingdom forever.
Among the greatest titans of that founding era was Zhao Yun, revered across the four seas as 'Zilong.' The White Dragon General who once galloped through legions of enemies to rescue the young lord at Changban Slope. He was the peerless vanguard who broke the spirit of the defenders at Chang'an's Great Gate, carving a path for the Han Dynasty's glorious restoration.
Time flowed like an eternal river. The era of the founding legends eventually faded, leaving behind a flourishing golden age. Yet, twenty years ago, a dark and blood-soaked tragedy struck amidst the peace. Zhao Wen, the heir to the White Dragon lineage, was falsely branded a traitor. The once-honorable Zhao Manor was consumed by a vengeful inferno in a single night. The world believed that the blood of the legendary Zilong had vanished into the dying embers.
Two decades have passed. Chang'an remains defiant and more prosperous than ever, shielded by a dynasty that appears serene. But beneath the surface, dark currents are swirling, ready to erupt. For who could have known? The White Dragon's blood, thought lost to time, has begun to stir in the distant shadows—like a spark hidden beneath winter ash, waiting for the winds of fate to ignite a blaze that will reclaim justice and shake the very foundations of the earth!
Upon the towering battlements of Chang'an, the night was heavy with solemnity. Under the watchful eyes of the 'Golden Brocade Guards,' hundreds of elite warriors stood in formation like a wall of gilded iron. Their armor shimmered under the pale moonlight, hands gripping their weapons with a resolve to die for the imperial bloodline.
At the heart of the iron perimeter stood Crown Prince Liu Tian and Princess Lao Ying, the two siblings of the Golden Dragon lineage. They gazed out over the sprawling capital, the cold wind billowing their golden imperial robes.
Crown Prince Liu Tian, twenty-five years of age, possessed a face as refined as carved jade, bearing a striking resemblance to the First Sovereign himself. His eyes held a natural kindness, yet they commanded absolute authority with a single glance. He radiated an aura of majesty so profound that his subjects followed him with unwavering faith, seeing in him the shadow of the great ancestor returned to rule.
Beside him stood Princess Lao Ying, a twenty-year-old beauty like a flower in first bloom. Her skin was as flawless as fresh snow. Behind her, four trusted handmaidens attended to her—one holding a silk umbrella against the midnight dew, another tending a portable brazier for warmth. Though she maintained the poise of a perfect lady, her bright eyes hid a playful wit and a razor-sharp intellect. Anyone who dared underestimate her would soon find themselves ensnared in her brilliant schemes.
"Brother... how long do you intend to wear that mask of gravity?" Lao Ying broke the silence with a mischievous smile. "The Strategist has already deemed the hour auspicious for our journey to Cloud-Mist Valley. Give the order to move! If I remain cooped up in this palace any longer, my mind will surely wither away!"
Liu Tian shook his head, his authoritative gaze softening with affection. "You are as impatient as ever. This journey is of grave importance, Ying'er. It is not a mere excursion."
"The Princess speaks the truth! We should gallop through the darkness now! Last one there buys the wine!"
A boisterous voice boomed as Wei Qing, a twenty-two-year-old general, stepped forward with a cocky swagger. He adjusted the massive 'Roaring Tiger Blade' strapped to his back. Behind him, his trusted deputy, Zhang Biao, and a contingent of heavy cavalry stood in disciplined silence.
In Chang'an, the Wei Clan was an unbreakable shield. After the fall of the Zhao Clan twenty years ago, it was the Wei who stepped up to defend the borders and crush rebellions, keeping the Liu throne secure. Thus, Wei Qing, the current heir of this military lineage, held a status in the army second to none.
Wei Qing was hot-blooded, much like a young tiger. He trusted raw strength and his blade over complex strategy, often finding himself on the edge of trouble if not for the Princess's quick wits.
"You always indulge her, Wei Qing... stop acting like a child," Liu Tian sighed, though his tone held the warmth of a close friend. "One does not charge into a civilian village in the dead of night. You would cause nothing but panic."
As the three bantered, Zhuge Qing, a strategist of thirty-five and the inheritor of the Grand Chancellor's wisdom, slowly unfurled his white feather fan. Behind him stood his attendant, Xiao Ming, carrying a heavy chest of scrolls. Zhuge Qing's demeanor was calm and profound, radiating the aura of a scholar who saw through the veils of the world.
"The White Dragon Star has begun to move out of its eclipse, Your Highness... Princess," Zhuge Qing said softly, his voice silencing the group. His sharp eyes pierced the dark sky.
"The winds of the martial world are shifting. The bloodstains of the past are about to be washed away by the fires of destiny... Cloud-Mist Village is the origin of everything we seek."
He flicked his fan gently. "The stars are clear: The dragon that has slumbered for twenty years is now in motion."
Hardly had the words left his lips when a lithe figure in stygian black plummeted from the roof of the watchtower. She landed silently like a wraith. Not even the elite guards noticed her until she was already kneeling before the Crown Prince.
This was Lin Ying, the nineteen-year-old daughter of Grand Secretary Lin Guang—the corrupt official who held the court in a vice grip. Trained from birth by her father to be a supreme assassin, Lin Ying harbored a noble heart beneath her emotionless mask. She chose to use her deadly arts to secretly aid the Crown Prince from the shadows.
"I have confirmed the coordinates... Cloud-Mist Valley is indeed the target," Lin Ying stated in a flat, firm voice. "However, I cannot join your caravan yet. I must return to the manor to report to my father and discern whatever new darkness they are brewing."
Wei Qing let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. "Well now... I thought the Eldest Miss might have been grounded. Hurry back then, little Nightbird. Don't go picking up a new 'Death Ledger' and slitting our throats by mistake. I'd hate to have to clean the blood off my blade."
"Wei Qing! Your tongue will be your undoing!" Lao Ying scolded, though she knew the peril Lin Ying faced. The Princess stepped forward, eyes full of concern. "Ignore this fool, Lin Ying. Be careful. Settle your business and rejoin us as soon as you can."
Lin Ying offered no retort to the provocation, only a small, silent nod to the Princess. Then, her frame coiled and vanished into the night in a single blur, leaving only the faint, cold scent of plum blossoms in the wind.
On the majestic walls of Chang'an, Liu Tian watched the spot where she vanished. He turned and nodded to his companions. The wheels of fate, frozen for twenty years... h
ad finally begun to turn.