The Great Zhou Dynasty, the divine capital of Luojing.
Night lay dark as ink. In a deserted courtyard at the northwest corner of Prince Yong's residence, a faint mechanical click broke the silence. A rockery overgrown with dead vines quietly shifted aside, revealing an opening just large enough for one person to pass through.
A figure crawled out, looking somewhat disheveled. He warily surveyed his surroundings, then quickly brushed the dust from his brocade robe. The moonlight shone like water, illuminating his youthful, handsome face. He was Chu Yi, the young prince of Prince Yong's residence and the current emperor's own nephew.
He glanced back at the secret passage, so deep its end could not be seen, then looked beyond the high wall at the faint lights of the bustling streets. He let out a long breath. His clear eyes, still touched with a boyish innocence, brimmed with longing for freedom and a hint of unease that was difficult to discern.
“Father, Mother... in the end, I don't want to be a caged bird.” Inwardly, he recalled the false pleasantries at court, his imperial uncle's seemingly caring but scrutinizing gaze, and the eyes in the residence that claimed to protect him but were really there to watch him. His parents had died in battle for their country, leaving him alone. He had all the riches he could want, but was bound hand and foot. However grand the residence might be, to him it was nothing more than a gilded cage.
He tightened the rough cloth wrapped around the long sword on his back. It was an heirloom left by his father, named Qiushui. It was said to have accompanied his father through countless battles and drunk the blood of countless foes. Now it remained sheathed and silent. He also touched the few scattered silver coins and a crude map in his robe. They were all he had to his name as he set out into the martial world.
