JustJae

Following his father's murder, Wu Ling's mother returned to the life of a courtesan, disguising her young son as a girl to take refuge in the Bamboo Silk House, a women's only sect dedicated to the arts. Now, as his powers awaken, he'll find himself torn between protecting his family and the goals of powerful cultivators who see him as a means to an end. 

"Wu Ling, I've accepted a marriage proposal on your behalf," the bewitching Hall Master of the Bamboo Silk House declared. "When you enter the Inner Sect, you'll enter under the name 'Hua Qianhu', fiancee of a young lord of the Liang family." 

"Hall Master, that's impossible!" Wu Ling protested. "Even if you ignore my relationship with Meifeng, I might have dressed well enough to hide as a mortal woman but I could never..."

"So you truly didn't realize what you were doing," the Hall Master said, a dark smile on her lips. "Little Ling, you're a natural-born Shapeshifter. I'll teach you what you need to know," she said, her features shifting until she looked like a mirror image of the stunned Wu Ling. "As long as you follow my arrangements and learn my techniques, it isn't impossible for you to reunite with Meifeng..." 

"But you should consider Young Lord Liang carefully," the Hall Master added. "His affection for you is genuine. Perhaps, one day, you'll even feel the same for him..."

Unparalleled Artist: Unlikely Hero

After Butcher Tong prompted him, San slowly pulled a slate and chalk from his tunic. When Butcher Tong realized the man couldn't speak, he'd retrieved one of his sign boards from the public-facing business and gave it to the burly man to write with. It was slow, but it let him learn some of the details of what happened, enough to know he needed to bring this man before another boss.

"Knew. Her. Before. Called. Little. Lingling. Robbed. Six. Sect Brothers." San wrote in his first pass, showing the slate to both bosses before wiping it clean and writing again. "Strange. Zither. Arts. Made. Us. Sleep. Before. Now. Filled. Room. Deadly. Birds."

The burly man might have looked like a simple thug, unremarkable among common ruffians in the mountain gangs, but when he wrote, his careful strokes betrayed his life as a prized disciple of a sect in Silver Sword City. He chose each word with care and made sure his audience understood the message before moving on.

Words Written in Hatred