Zhu Xian: The Joyful Union Bell Rings Again

Mornings in Caomiao Village were always veiled in mist. Zhang Xiaofan’s hand suddenly froze around his hoe. The Joyful Union Bell brand on his chest, dormant for ten years, had begun to grow warm.

Ten years ago, the resolute figure in the ice chamber had become a pain he dared not touch. Then a Miao elder stumbled into the village with a wooden plaque carved with a bell. Her dying words, “The soul flame has not gone out,” made him tighten his grip on the weapon hidden beneath his coarse clothes.

In the miasma of the Hundred Thousand Mountains in the Southern Frontier lay secrets of resurrection, along with countless watchful eyes. Some had come for the wooden plaque, others were drawn by the secret he carried, and a bond spanning two worlds was pulling at them from the shadows.

When the Joyful Union Bell’s soft chime echoed by his ear once more, Zhang Xiaofan finally understood that he had never been alone on this journey. The patterns on the plaque pointed the way, the brand on his palm was connected to an unfinished obsession, and his task was to bring that figure in green back into the sunlight.

The road ahead was shrouded in fog and fraught with danger, but as long as the bell continued to ring, he would not stop moving forward.