"Long ago, a dragon of rain and memory fell in love with a tea-picking girl. To court her, he learned to dance. But the girl was afraid. She called upon the seven magistrates of forgetting, who cursed the dragon into silence. The price? The magistrates must dance forever—but they have forgotten how. So they whisper."
It was a riddle. A lock. The dragon was not dead—he was trapped inside the phrase itself. To free Mei, Lin Wei had to break the curse. Not by fighting, but by dancing. hu hu bu wu. ye cha long mie
Lin Wei froze. The words were soft, almost gentle—like a mother hushing a child. But they carried a weight that made his teeth ache. "Long ago, a dragon of rain and memory
The tea house dissolved into morning mist. Lin Wei found himself kneeling in a patch of wild tea plants, holding his sister’s hand. The obsidian shard had turned to warm ash. She called upon the seven magistrates of forgetting,
Each stele was carved with a single character. As Lin Wei watched, the characters rearranged themselves into the very words he’d heard:
