Moonlit night.
The vast wilderness beneath the mountain is boundless.
As far as the eye can see, there are thousands of lights from the encampment.
At this moment, deep into the night, most of the lights have gone out.
The few tents that still have lights left appear as scattered stars fallen from the sky onto the wilderness below Sacrificial Moon Mountain tonight.
Between the camps, there's the crackling sound of burning wood, the clashing of armor from patrolling soldiers, and a faint, distant sound of a gourd flute breaking the silence of the wilderness that has been quiet for thousands of years.
In the southwest corner of the encampment, inside a large tent.
At this moment, a long figure is sitting still, with a lamp before him, dimly lighting the tent.
The silhouette of this young Confucian Scholar is reflected onto the felt wall at the back.
His thin face appears focused and resolute in the candlelight.
At this moment, he's staring at the lamp, not speaking.
