[Longing forged in white bone, white hair shrouding the realm]
The grand tales recorded in the history of the Qi Kingdom conceal a bloodstained silver strand.
The young general Ouyang Zheng was born with an uncanny mark: white hair at the nape of his neck, tangled like threads of love around a blade. The Imperial Astronomical Bureau foretold that “only blood will bring it to an end.”
The cinnabar mole in Princess Luo Chuxi’s palm is a phoenix seal planted by a life-borrowing parasite, and a bloodstained scar carved by an arrow through the heart.
A childhood promise is trapped within the Seven Stars of the Big Dipper formation. The red cord tied to the Ziwei constellation when they were eight becomes, ten years later, a Buddhist prayer bead that snaps the bones in a man’s neck. A parasol tree that grows wildly overnight in the plum garden of the imperial palace conceals a Black Armor soldier from the northern deserts in its heartwood. Every leaf bears the imprint of an unfinished letter home.
When cinnabar in the Golden Throne Hall stains the words “treason,” and the fragrance of a love-binding parasite seeps from the tiles of the cold palace, only then do they understand the secret of the nuptial wine they drank years ago:
The General’s and Prince Lu’s households did not cut strands of hair to tie together at their wedding. They cut out a sacrifice to suppress the dragon’s ley line.
The beads turning in the emperor’s hand are no prayer beads, but chains that devour the loyal to the bone.
And the white hair born of longing does not grow into a tree whose branches entwine. It becomes a tombstone that traps their souls for three lifetimes.
“The realm you’re sworn to protect has already turned your young general into a sacrifice for its battle standard.” “The people you mean to protect are warming their wine with the blood of the one you love.”
The history books turn their yellowed pages, and blood-red parasol trees bloom again, deep within the imperial mausoleum.
(Season One: The General’s Bones)
