The wind on Dawnmist Peak changed before Wushen heard the first note.
It was subtle—less a sound and more a memory of sound. Like the air remembering something it hadn't carried in years. A low, tremulous vibration that curled through the trees, brushing past stone and branch with ghostly tenderness.
He froze mid-stance during morning drills.
The others continued—Tianya slicing through frost illusions conjured by Bai, Yiran coordinating position shifts in the new defensive formation.
But Wushen… didn't move.
Because that note—just a single, broken chord—was impossible.
It had been years.
And his brother had died in the Spirit Collapse.
Hadn't he?
Ding! Personal Echo Detected: Lin Xuan (Ancestral Marker Confirmed)Type: Windborne Soul FragmentAuthenticity: 86%Condition: Fractured. Intent-bearing transmission.Message Class: Unsealed. Playback available.
Would you like to receive message? Y/N
His hand trembled.
"Y."
The wind stopped.
Then sang.
Not a melody—a voice.
"Wushen… if this finds you, it means the memory tether worked. I don't have long. The seal's breaking from the inside. I can't hold it much longer."
"You need to find the place where the Mourning Song was first forbidden. Where our Sect turned music into silence. It's not just history, brother. It's still alive. Still listening."
"Come to the Ruins of Echospire."
"And when you do—don't come alone."
Then the wind fell silent again.
Wushen dropped to one knee, clutching his chest.
His flute vibrated in his hand.
Not with fear.
With recognition.
Later that morning, Luo Feng stood beneath the arching pine near the north edge of the peak, watching his disciples from a distance.
He saw Wushen approach before the boy even spoke.
The posture was wrong. Shoulders too tight. Eyes not focused on the ground, but through it.
"Something's happened," Luo Feng said without turning.
Wushen knelt. "Yes."
"I heard it too. Just the edge of the chord. You're lucky Yiran didn't pick up the full vibration—she might've collapsed again."
"I didn't mean to bring it here," Wushen said.
"You didn't," Luo Feng said. "It found you."
He turned now, meeting Wushen's eyes.
"You have a choice. Bury it like the Sect wants. Or follow it."
"I want to follow it," Wushen whispered.
"But?"
"But I'm afraid it's a trap."
"It is," Luo Feng said simply. "Everything worth chasing is."
Ding! Side Quest Unlocked: "The First Mourning"Objective: Travel to the Ruins of Echospire and investigate the forbidden melody archive.Optional: Retrieve any surviving fragments of Lin Xuan's soul.Warning: Known risk of spiritual backlash. Formation-level team recommended.Recommended Participants: Wushen, Yiran, Bai Xueyin.Mentor Involvement: Limited support only.
That night, under the starlight, Luo Feng called a council.
The fire crackled. The tea simmered.
Yiran sat in silence, already aware something had changed.
Tianya sharpened her blade calmly. "How far?"
"Two days south," Wushen said. "But not on the maps anymore. Echospire was buried during the Sect's schism centuries ago."
"I've heard of it," Bai said. "It was once called the Sanctuary of Resonance."
"And now?"
"A graveyard of forgotten music."
Luo Feng let them talk for a while.
Then, when the silence returned, he said:
"I won't lead this mission."
The disciples all looked at him.
"I'll guide. Intervene if needed. But this one is yours, Wushen."
"I'm not ready," Wushen said quickly.
"Neither was Yiran when I left her in command," Luo Feng replied. "But she grew."
He looked around the circle.
"Bai. Yiran. You'll support him. Tianya, A-Yan, Kaelen—you'll hold the peak while we're gone."
A-Yan pouted. "Why do I always get peak duty?"
"Because you're the only one with three stealth kills and a booby-trapped tea kettle."
"That was one time!"
Tianya smirked. "And it worked."
As the preparations began, Yiran approached Wushen at the training post.
"You're afraid," she said gently.
He nodded.
"I heard his voice, Yiran. And part of me—some sick part—wanted it to be a lie. Because if it's true…"
He swallowed.
"Then I left him behind."
Yiran took his hand, warm and steady.
"You didn't. You're going back for him now. That's what matters."
He didn't speak again.
But when he looked at her—there was fire behind the fear.
The next morning, before dawn, the three of them stood at the edge of the peak: Wushen, Yiran, and Bai.
Luo Feng watched from the ridge, arms folded.
"You're not just going to a ruin," he said. "You're going into a lie. One the Sect has told for generations. Expect resistance."
Bai nodded. "I'll freeze what I can't reason with."
Yiran looked forward. "I'll listen."
And Wushen?
He raised his flute.
"I'll sing."
Then they vanished into the morning mist.
Far away, in the sealed archive beneath the Sect's forbidden chamber, a sliver of light appeared between two ancient shelves.
A figure—thin, masked, draped in spirit-suppressing robes—walked through the light and placed a single scroll on the stone table.
It pulsed with old blood.
Inside, a name was written:
Lin Wushen.
Beside it:
Target Class: Emotional Key. Do not kill. Do not engage directly. Observe. Report.
Then a second name glowed beneath it.
Mentor Luo Feng.
A pause.
And below it, in red ink:
Uncontainable. Contingency required.