Transmigrate to the Middle Ages: From Scribe to Sword Saint

In his previous life, Chen Wei was a moderately well-known blind piano tuner. For twenty-seven years, in a world of darkness, the only thing he trusted was his ears. One summer night, while tuning a Bosendorfer in a concert hall on the outskirts of the city, a piano string snapped, and its iron frame killed him. In this life, he became Anselmus Clarus, the most inconspicuous apprentice in the scriptorium of Saint Etienne Monastery, a seventeen-year-old boy abandoned by his family and crushed by fate. The original owner had found a parchment booklet in a crack in the wall of the restricted books section. The writing on it writhed like living creatures. By the time he had copied the third page, his consciousness had burned to ash. When Chen Wei awoke, his mind held fragmented memories that weren't his own, memories of a “northern underground palace.” Soon he discovered that certain words in this world were more than tools for recording thoughts. They had weight, temperature, and pitch. To his ears, they formed a fugue unlike any ever written, performed by some ancient being. At the same time, a monk at the monastery who claimed to be his great-grandfather handed him a secret letter: “The underground palace on the northern frontier is opening again. Some want to destroy those words, while others want to claim them. What your grandfather saw back then was only a grain of sand. Do you want to see the whole desert for yourself?” From piano keys to parchment, from tuning wrench to silver quill, Chen Wei used his ears to measure a completely unfamiliar world. Words could sing, and they could kill. Forgotten history lay sleeping in ink bottles, and he was the only one who could read “living words” as sheet music. But could the voice of a blind piano tuner really change the fate of an entire kingdom?