Twelve Sounds on a Fine Night

When he awoke, he had no name and no past, only shattered meridians and the killing skills etched into his instincts. A small house in the hills of Xizhou took him in. An old man gave him the name Chen Liang, and A Die tied a red cord around his wrist. Simple meals and smoke rising from the hearth gave this young man, who had nothing, his first taste of a place he could call “home.” But a bloodbath brought on by Black Wind Mountain tore that brief peace to shreds. That day, Chen Liang took up a wooden sword and climbed the mountain alone. That night, he left the name behind in the little house he would never return to. From then on, the world knew a man named Xing Shen. From the bandits of Xizhou to the Tea League of Yongdong, from the shadows of the Blood Jade Tower to the treacherous court, his dormant fate as a bringer of slaughter and the unforgettable figure deep in his memories continued to remind him of his extraordinary past, tormenting his already restless mind. Who was he? Where had he come from? He had to find his lost past, and protect everything he had gained anew.