The Lotus Ballad

The lotus fragrance fades, its emerald leaves wither; autumn winds stir sorrow across the green waters. It withers along with the springtime, too painful to behold.

A dream returns with the fine rain, though Jisai lies far away. In the little tower, the jade flute plays until its notes turn cold. How many tears, how much endless grief, as I lean against the railing?

* * * * *

Of all the places to lose yourself in pleasure, Yunmeng Tower was unmatched in Fengjing City. This famous pleasure house, renowned throughout the seven provinces, had no equal in its furnishings, its wares, its food and drink, its amusements, or the girls who entertained its guests. Since the change of dynasties, its fame had grown tenfold. But this was not thanks to its elegant decor or its delicate, charming courtesan, but to a musician.

The musician was young and refined, and his skill at the zither was exceptional; he was certainly no ordinary man. But the true secret behind the crowds of guests who came from every walk of life to see him lay in the name destined to be etched into the history books:

Xie San.

Xie San was the third son of Xie Du, the chancellor who had been beheaded. In a single night, 3,780 members of the Xie family were killed. Only one survived: Xie San. Everyone knew why: he was the one who had forced the city guards to open the gates of Huadu that day.

That day, the city gates stood wide open and iron hooves thundered in. Panic swept through the crowd. Red and yellow flowers were scattered across the ground, mingling with the dark and pale greens of the rainwater. Their disheveled beauty looked like a magnificent carpet laid out before the Jun uncle and nephew.

* * * * *

Looking back on those dusty memories from the days when the lotus fragrance faded...