The night wind rose again, stirring the traces carved into the sand and ruffling Cangjie's clothes. He lifted his gaze to the stars. The words rising into the sky were gathering into a dazzling river of stars, shining with eternal brilliance across the night. Beneath their light, the outlines of thirteen figures gradually came into focus, like marks etched by fate, deep and indelible. He did not know what kind of waves this pact to protect civilization, begun on the banks of the Luo River, would stir in the long course of thousands of years of history, how it would affect humanity's fate, or how it would advance civilization. But he knew that from this moment on, the world would never be the same. The power of words would live on forever.
