The "Ryugin-tei" tavern, tucked away in a dark alley of Chang'an, was just another of the cesspools of life that choked the city. Here, the slurred words of drunkards tangled with their broken laughter, and the cloying scent of stale wine mingled with the acrid smoke of coal rising from the corners. The air was heavy, saturated with a fog of humidity and sweat, carrying with it a despair as tangible as its own weight, as if the place itself were suffocating under the sorrows of its patrons.
I stood in a corner, my eyes barely open from drink, my mouth as dry as a desert. In a puddle of spilled wine on the table, I saw my distorted reflection: short red hair like a dying fire, lost hazel eyes, and a short, slender frame. This pathetic reflection, this person who was me, stirred a cold anger within me.
As I stared into the void, the tavern's din was pierced by the voices of two men sitting near me.
"Did you hear?" one of them said, his voice thick with drink. "They say a caravan guard swore he saw one of them at the edge of the Forest of Tether. A Panir!"
The other laughed loudly. "A Panir? Impossible, you fool! They went extinct ages ago. Do you really believe they still exist? They're nothing more than legends now, just stories mothers use to frighten their children."
A Panir… legends… another world outside these filthy walls. A world where there was still room for wonder. In that moment, it was no longer the wine swirling in my head, but an idea. A mad, desperate idea. I suddenly felt I couldn't stay here another moment, couldn't be just another shadow in this tomb for the living.
In a moment of silent defiance, without hesitation, I climbed onto the wobbly wooden table. The gazes of the patrons shifted between astonishment and indifference, but I no longer saw them. I was searching for something in this world that had given me nothing but pain, for a meaning that transcended this ugliness. In a hoarse voice that barely escaped my dry throat, I spoke, the words embedding themselves in my own soul before they ever reached their ears:
"I... I will travel across all the continents... I will discover this entire world!"
My voice was low, as if I were convincing myself before anyone else.
"I will document everything about the cities and the mythical creatures... and I will carry these dreams beyond the edge where my life now stands. Remember my name, people of Chang'an, my name is Hong Min... a name born from the womb of dreams."
Deep down, I knew these words might be nothing more than a drunkard's ravings. Laughter erupted around me. "Another dreamer flying too close to the sun " another sneered. "Dreams don't fill bellies, little one. Throw him out!"
I didn't give in, but the world began to spin violently around me. I lost my balance and fell onto the table, shattering what was on it. After that, I heard only hollow laughter and saw the angry face of the tavern owner approaching. "Get out, you wretch! There's no place for madmen here!" He grabbed me by my ragged clothes and threw me like an empty sack into the darkness of the alley.
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I awoke to a burning pain in my stomach. Hunger was devouring me from the inside. I had no choice but to return to my hovel. I stood up, dusting off my clothes, and began my journey through the dead city.
I had to cross the "Twilight Bridge," the only passage separating the prosperous heart of Chang'an from its forgotten part. The bridge itself was an ancient stone masterpiece, but it stood in a perpetual shadow—the shadow of the imposing "Gu Clan" headquarters, which seemed to absorb all light and all hope. On the riverbanks at the foot of the bridge lived a colony of the wretched: orphans and homeless elders, their frail bodies mere human silhouettes cast by the black walls of the fortress. I walked among them, one of them, yet I felt no belonging. I was lost in my own despair, and they were lost in theirs.
As I walked, the clan's majestic anthem echoed in the air, as if slapping me across the face. I saw the cruel grandeur of the fortress and the ugliness of the miserable who crawled at its feet, both two faces of a single, inescapable truth.
Anthem of the Gu Clan:
Winds, rage in the heavens,Mountain roots, tremble beneath us,From earth's core to heaven's throne, our voice is known,An eternal power, forged to rule the world alone.The foe trembles, his name forgotten,We are Gu, for whom defeat has never been begotten.
When I crossed the bridge, I entered another world: the "Swamp of Shadows." It wasn’t just a poor district; it was a labyrinth of narrow alleys reeking of death and rot. The air here was heavier, carrying a constant dampness and the stench of mud and garbage. The dilapidated shacks leaned on each other as if slowly dying. Here, even the moonlight seemed frightened and pale, unable to penetrate the darkness.
I finally reached my hovel, my crumbling shelter in the heart of this swamp. Under the worm-eaten table, I carefully lifted a worn plank, revealing my sword. It was shorter than most, its blade covered in rust like a second skin. It felt heavy in my starved hand, but it was all I owned. A small illusion in the face of this vast ruin.
But this time, something had changed. I could no longer bear this illusion. A single, decisive resolution formed in my mind: I would leave. I would cross the "Forest of Tether" that lay beyond the Swamp of Shadows. I would go beyond it, to where no one knew me.
I took my rusty sword and walked out of the hovel without a backward glance. I ignored the corpses and the alleys that had been my prison, and for the first time, I felt I was stepping toward my destiny, not running from it.
The deeper I ventured into the Forest of Tether, the more its dense trees swallowed what little light remained. I soon lost all sense of direction. Everything around me was terrifyingly silent. The silence was so complete that I began to hear the sound of my own blood pumping in my ears.
"Where am I?!" I screamed, but my voice was devoured by the void.
As night fell and the cold gnawed at my bones, I spotted a faint light on the horizon. I moved toward it, and the closer I got, the stranger and more magical the scene became.
Before a lake as clear as a mirror reflecting the stars, a figure over ten feet tall sat on a massive boulder. He was thin, dressed in ragged clothes, with long black hair and skin as white as bone.
I looked into his eyes, and they were grey, as cold as a stone polished by an ancient glacier. A shiver ran through me, not just from their coldness, but from the unsettling feeling that I had encountered eyes like these before
I approached him with cautious steps. "Do... do you know how to get through this forest?"
He did not reply.
Suddenly, I felt a faint vibration in the ground. From between the trees behind him, a giant tiger emerged, its dark fur gleaming, its eyes glowing with a liquid yellow flame. It approached with silent, majestic strides and stopped beside the giant man. Strangely, there was no hostility between them, nor any familiarity. They were like two forces of nature, a glacier and a hurricane, coexisting in the same space, each utterly ignoring the other. They were together, yet separate. And I, the weak intruder, was the only thing that did not belong in this impossible scene.

