Taylin Peak.

  An unfamiliar scent lingered in the air perhaps from a nearby waterfall whose muffled roar echoed through the dense bamboo groves. The wind, sweeping down from the high ridges, made the stalks sway in a rhythmic dance. Yellowed, withered leaves detached themselves from the branches, spiraling downward through the air. One such leaf fluttered onto the shoulder of Gu Zong, who sat perched upon a stone altar, immersed in a deep, internal struggle for meditation.

  A short distance away, beneath the sprawling canopy of a massive bamboo tree, Han Wuang Shi sat in perfect stillness upon a carpet of fallen leaves. After a single, fleeting glance at Gu Zong, he closed his eyes, surrendering to the void.

  Earlier, Master Suo Jing had declared the terms of the trial: the disciples must forge their own zithers and weave their own mantras. Since Wuang Shi already possessed a zither and was a master of the musical arts, the burden fell entirely upon Gu Zong to manifest his instrument. Yet, his concentration was shattered. His internal state was like a turbulent ocean trying to calm the surface while the depths roared with violent, unrelenting waves. Gu Zong struggled even to keep his eyes closed.

  In contrast, Han Wuang Shi had become the very embodiment of a tranquil sea. His body radiated a soft, ethereal white aura, so pure that it acted as a magnetic pull for the wild rabbits of the forest. Suddenly, within the depths of his meditation, a vision appeared: two swans. One was the swan he fed every day, but the second was a stranger to him.

  Wuang Shi’s eyes snapped open. He scanned the surroundings, finding Gu Zong still wrestling with his inner demons. Gu Zong raised two fingers, attempting to channel his spiritual essence, but his fingers remained lifeless devoid of any energy.

  Seeing this, Wuang Shi rose and walked toward him. Without a word, he closed his eyes and traced a glowing image in the empty air with his fingertips. Gu Zong watched, mesmerized, as an ethereal diagram of the Jiuhuang Yin Zither floated between them. Leaves fell through the glowing lines, yet the image remained unbroken.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Wuang Shi spoke, his voice a vessel of measured peace no haste, no harshness, only carefully woven words:

  "The Jiuhuang Yin Zither. It lies submerged in the depths of a cavern pool, hidden within a silent lake to the north. Its greatest defense is its elusiveness; if one approaches, it shifts its position and manifests a thousand illusions of itself. But the true Jiuhuang Yin bears a mark a small swan engraved on its right side, a reflection of its soul. Head north."

  With that, he turned and departed. No further explanation, no lingering emotion. He moved like a hollow presence, as if the life within his 'internal ocean' had long since withered. Gu Zong stood frozen. The knowledge Wuang Shi possessed was impossible for any disciple to hold. Before he could utter a question, Wuang Shi’s shadow had already vanished into the mist.

  While the mountain felt serene, another part of the forest felt like it was beginning to burn. Three figures moved through the wild bamboo thickets: Master Hun Zang, Master Ruie Gaojun, and Han Juan Hao. Their laughter was jagged, and their eyes thirsting for blood looked like portals to a thousand dark storms. Ruie Gaojun spoke with a sharp, slanting smirk:

  "Master, your plan is beyond praise. To kill the snake in its own burrow... we only need a hunter now."

  From the shadows behind them, a fourth figure emerged: Han Zaoshi. His once innocent face now resembled the Alpha of a pack of ruthless wolves a true predator in sheep's clothing.

  "The hunt has already begun, Father," Zaoshi said, his voice cold. "Let the prey run for a while."

  As he stepped into the light, his eyes looked nothing like a human's; they were eerie, detached, and terrifying.

  The Prophecy of Terror

  Elsewhere, the girl who had eavesdropped on the secret meeting was running, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her friend chased after her, reaching her just as she collapsed onto the ground near a group of disciples.

  "Zhu Yi! What are you doing?" her friend cried. "Why are you running through the forest like this?"

  Zhu Yi stood up, pointing frantically at the air, her eyes wide with a madness born of pure terror. She had lost her composure entirely.

  "We have to run! They... they are going to burn the clan! There is a cursed... a Cursed Zither! They will kill us all with it. This cultivation path isn't a trial it’s a trap! Save yourselves! Run!"

  Without waiting for a response, she fled again, her screams echoing through the trees: "The Cursed Zither is coming for us!"

  Her friend scrambled after her, apologizing to the bewildered onlookers. The two disciples who had heard her warning stood paralyzed, their breath catching in their throats. They exchanged a look of mounting dread, watching the girl disappear into the dark woods.