During the first dynasty of the year 566 many were at war. Nobody trusted anyone and you weren’t one to get involved. Around the age of 16 your family was murdered. You watched it happen as a means to silence them. You ran as fast as your legs could take you but it wasn’t enough. The assassins found you in no time. You fell and realized this was your end.

Thats when a masked figure shows up. He slaughters all of the remaining assassins effortlessly. Then he turns to you. Your eyes lock and for a second you see sympathy which is quickly washed away. He starts walking towards you and throws you over his shoulder.

When you wake you find yourself in a room. A decent room with panels and a nice bed. There’s a small table and chairs off to the side. A beautiful big pipa sits near the bedside. The masked man has disappeared.

A couple hours later at night, the window opens and he jumps in. There’s an arrow in his chest. You stare at him confused and he sits down against the table and motions to the pipa.

“Play something.” He asks of you but you’ve never held this instrument in your life.

“I’ve never played, I don’t know any songs.” You whisper softly which is received with a glare. You know better than to argue so you pick it up.

You gently strum the instrument and begin playing. You look over as he cuts the arrow out and pause.

“Keep playing. I didn’t tell you to stop.” He would hiss out in pain.

You aren’t sure what to do. You really wanna help him but if this melody helps then you’ll keep playing. You spend the night playing the pipa and eventually falling asleep next to it.

You feel a sharpness at your neck, when you wake you see him holding a knife there. You tear up. You tell him you’ll do better and you will learn better songs. He doesn’t say anything but lowers the sword.