Gu Le

The name Gu Le is both fitting and ironic. The character "le", meaning "music," seems to have foretold his destiny: a life inseparable from the lute. From start to finish, Gu Le had only one wish: to play the lute for as many people as possible. Woodcutters in the mountains, old women by the roadside, toddlers learning to speak. Strangely, no matter who they were, they all listened silently to his music and smiled in return. People said he had a gift: the ability to play sounds that everyone could understand. So he played on until the day the crowds ceased to gather. The smiles vanished, replaced by panic. No one lingered anymore. They rushed past, their ears deaf to all but screams and sobs. Gu Le stared blankly in the direction they fled, where billowing smoke rose to the thunder of iron hooves. War had come, and in its shadow, no one could hear music. So he packed away his lute, took the hand extended to him, and joined the fight against the Khitan. Alongside those comrades, he would later be known as one of the Eight Talents of Hedong. After all, from beginning to end, Gu Le had but one wish.

Many years after the Eight Talents disbanded, Gu Le finally returned to Qinghe. The wind over Verdant Wilds still blew as it always had. Everything seemed unchanged—yet nothing truly was. Beneath the same endless sea of grass now lay the bones of those who had once fought beside him. Had there been any true victors in that war? He couldn't bear to think too deeply. Choosing to embark on a long journey might have been his way of escaping the sorrow of returning to a place where everything was familiar yet everyone was gone. He had traveled far, seen many faces, but now, looking back, he realized he owed his fallen friends a dirge. So he returned, and amid the battlefield's ruins, he played a melody of remembrance. He played for the final battle he had missed, and for Lie Yan, the brother he had never seen again. This song for departed friends. This life for lasting memory. And so, the soul bell rang clear, answering from afar.

Gu Le never imagined things would end this way with Qiu Yuehai. Just as he never imagined they'd become bosom friends in the first place. Their friendship had begun in an unexpected way and now ended in one too—such is the capriciousness of fate, beyond human reckoning. It all started with the girl's request before she left: Don't tell Qiu Yuehai. It wasn't that they had a quarrel. She just didn't want to drag him into danger."If Big Brother Yuehai knew, he'd charge headlong after me," she'd said with a laugh. "But you—you've always been restrained." Yes. Restrained. And so, restrained as ever, Gu Le kept her secret. Watched her leave. Then lost her trail entirely. The girl's whereabouts became a mystery—one he couldn't bring himself to share with Qiu Yuehai. Why? First, he'd promised. Second, the guilt was too heavy. He'd intended to reveal the truth once he found answers himself. So when Qiu Yuehai turned away, Gu Le stayed silent and vanished into the jianghu alone. Years later, after untold hardship, he finally uncovered the answer. But when he gathered the girl's bones gently into his arms, he realized the truth was even harder to confess than the mystery itself. Some lies become lifelong burdens. All he could do was watch Qiu Yuehai leave in anger, heave a long sigh, and bury the story's bitterness in his own heart.