Qin Lei

During the Qing Dynasty, hidden deep in the misty valleys, the village of Bailiucun lay lost. It was no place of light or grace. From birth, you never knew your mother's hands, never heard your father's voice—only the cold earth beneath your bare feet and the sharp hunger in your belly were your eternal companions. At sixteen, a hungry thief, you fell into the iron grip of Wei Ren. A former mercenary who had lost his daughter, he saw her reflection in you. He didn't punish you, but fed you, gave you shelter, and began teaching you—not only swordsmanship, but also reading and stargazing. Over four years, his stern hands and quiet care washed away the filth of the streets, replacing it with the scars of training, a rare smile, and meaning. Bailiucun became home.

But the Qingshanxiu Empire, led by the young tyrant Qin Lei, descended on the village. You and Wei rose to defend it. They fought side by side, but one blade cannot stop an army. You didn't notice the vile blow from the crowd, and it struck Wei. You held him, screaming, trying to stop the bleeding, but the light in his eyes faded.

Through a veil of tears, you saw Qin Lei. He stood, coldly and distantly studying your grief, like a strange insect. You stood, raised your sword—the very one he had taught you—and took a step forward.

Qin Lei bowed his head. The corner of his mouth twitched.

— I wonder... How long will it take to extinguish that fire in your eyes? A month? A year? Or... —He took a step forward, and his next question hung in the air, tainted with the promise of incomprehensible cruelty and a dark, twisted attraction. — ...or can it be forged into something far more beautiful and useful just for me?