He had barely stirred, his green eyes attempting to focus on anything. He could hear the sounds of people walking along wooden floorboards. There were birds chirping just outside the window. He smelled the blossom-scented oil burning in a pot nearby. He knew those sounds well, but he couldn't recall what happened and why his body was in pain.

A dream scratched at the back of his mind. There were two people with him, or were there three? He could barely recall voices speaking to him but there were no words. He just heard incoherent sounds. Swords, some place in the mountains, a bridge, a fall.

"Just a nightmare," Làng Wū Yáo said to himself, pushing the blankets away. His arms were bandaged up but he could move them just fine. Whatever had happened, he healed from it. It didn't make sense. If he had become injured during a performance, he would've been discarded. He was only as good as he could sing.

He stood up, pulling on his white robes as he fussed with his hair. It had become matted for some reason, twisted into long braids, and took some effort to untangle it as he pulled it into a proper topknot. He stared at himself in the mirror. Something felt off, like he'd forgotten something important. He was pretty sure he hadn't blacked out during that last performance against Mù Tiān Mìng, but he couldn't honestly recall how he'd gotten to his room.

He turned, feeling someone call out to him but no one was there, no words had been spoken. Was it that voice that spoke to him when he was alone? He hadn't heard that voice for some time, and it was particularly loud and obnoxious. This time, nothing was there.

It was just an empty familiar room, one that felt far too large. Decorated in the imperial style, it featured a few scrolls of bards singing while cranes surrounded them. A red incense pot burned on the far side of the room next to several potted bonsai trees. Bamboo sticks were arranged in nearby pots. Several hair ornaments sat on the far dresser next to a white pipa.

Where was his mother's red pipa? Where had it gone?

He picked up the small card next to the pipa. To replace the red one.

What had happened that he couldn't remember?

He tucked a hair ornament into his top knot. He hadn't worn this one before but it felt appropriate with the crane decoration. He was the Court Virtuoso after all and he had to look the part despite whatever had happened. He rubbed at his shoulder, feeling a strange pain for a moment.

A caged songbird. It was everything his mother ever wanted him to be, a place where someone with his voice would be protected. A place he couldn't cause trouble with his songs. He was honoring her memory, all because Xiào Kuáng Juàn had found him in that tavern and forced him into the position. The man had achieved his promotion because of this, and Làng had found his way to the highest position someone like him could ever hope to achieve. With his cursed voice, it was really the only place something like him could ever hope to be.

But was it? Wasn't he something more than just a sharpened singing blade without a soul? There was, wasn't there?

He felt something stab him through the heart and try to suck the life from him. He grasped at the dresser, the hair ornaments clattering to the floor as he fell. But as soon as it struck him, it was gone. Làng pushed himself up, his long hair pooling over his face and his white robes. "What… what was that?"

He stared at the floor a moment before his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten for some time. He pushed himself to his feet, straightening his robes and hair. He carefully set the hair ornaments back on the dresser, reaching for the white pipa but deciding not to take it. He didn't want it. He wanted his mother's pipa.

Sliding the door open, he found the hallway familiar but not. It was indeed an imperial palace but the layout wasn't as he recalled. He had only been at one before, but the princess owned several. At least that was what he'd heard. It was possible he was at another, but he couldn't honestly recall how he'd gotten there.

Two guards stood outside his door. One was shorter and heavier set, the other tall like a string bean. They stood stiffly outside his door, straightening up even taller when Làng had opened it. Whatever they were talking about, they quickly stopped. He glanced at the pair, not sure why two guards were even standing at his door. Were they expecting someone to be here? Perhaps that Sword-plundering Nemesis Xiào liked to rattle on about.

"You look a bit lost, Court Virtuoso," the shorter one spoke. "Are you still injured? We can have someone fetch something for you."

Làng hadn't expected them to actually speak to him. They tended not to. He held a rather high title at the palace but he also was the one who brought death to them during performances. Before he could answer, however, his stomach did for him.

A slight grin crossed the taller one's lips. "We can have some breakfast brought for you, Court Virtuoso."

Làng shook his head. "No, that's alright. I need some fresh air as well." He headed down the hallway, feeling particularly lost while trying to find something to eat. He paused, peering down the hallway. A massive garden spanned out on either side, offering shade trees and ponds and quiet locations. He wasn't certain he wanted to be alone with that voice that followed him, but he hadn't heard it for some time. Perhaps the gardens would be okay.

"There you are, my dear songbird~" Cháo Fēng quickly pushed him against the wall and leaned up against him affectionately. "I never thought I'd have you back."

Làng wanted to push her away but he didn't. He was her songbird, forced to tolerate that malicious aura of hers as her property. She had claimed she was shielding him from other evils than herself so he wouldn't have to experience them with that strong sense of his. Perhaps she was right, not that he particularly liked it either way. That evil aura of hers grated on every fiber of his being. "I was... gone?"

"You don't remember, do you?" Cháo continued to push into him.

Làng wanted to sink through the wall into the next room. "Last I recall, I sang a duet with Tiān Mìng as she challenged for my position, but she had... left suddenly." It felt like the story there was incomplete, but his mind felt hazy. He couldn't make sense of any of it, but if she had left, that meant she was still alive somewhere. It had been so long since he'd seen her after she stopped showing up at the pagoda and eventually he did as well.

"It's all because of that nasty Shāng Bù Huàn!" Cháo informed him. "You followed that suspicious blue bard and you encountered him, the Sword-plundering Nemesis!"

"Shāng Bù Huàn..." Làng recalled hearing words about Shāng before. Xiào hadn't exactly talked favorably about him, calling him the greatest villain of Xī Yōu. He came in the night and he stole mystical swords for who knew what. Probably malicious things. Perhaps the princess really was trying to protect him from greater evils.

She suddenly pushed her hand into his chest, staring up at him intently. "You went with him! You left me, you fled your cage! No one can have you but me!"

It didn't make sense to him at all, not that his fuzzy mind could focus on much of anything right now. That intense stare of hers told her that something had happened, something he couldn't remember. "I did…?" Why would he ever leave with a sword-stealing villain? He had enough trouble tolerating the evils of the palace, but to go with someone who was trying to uproot the entire framework of society? Everything that Xiao had told him about the Sword-plundering Nemesis made him sound vile. Làng didn't always trust everything Xiao had said, but everyone else at the palace corroborated it. It didn't make sense that he'd go with someone like that, even in his fuzzy, confused mind.

"Of course, Xiào Kuáng Juàn tracked you down," Cháo glared up at him before her expression twisted into a grin. "That villain Shāng Bù Huàn used a sorcerous sword to turn you against me!" She pressed her head into him, listening to his heart seem to race with intense confusion. "He took you away from me!"

Làng wedged himself out of her grip, rubbing at his still-sore shoulder. It felt off, like he had landed on it wrong, and her pressing into it didn't make it feel any better. "He did? That would explain why I would ever leave with a villain."

"It was lucky that Xiào Kuáng Juàn had been tracking that villain!" Cháo continued. "Shāng Bù Huàn ended up throwing you off a cliff once you were no longer useful to him. But now you're back, my precious songbird. I can protect you from that evil here. No one will ever steal you like that again. You are mine and mine alone."

"So that… wasn't a dream." He had fallen off a cliff. He put a hand on his head. His mind was still in a haze, but something about all of this just felt off. Perhaps hitting his head and all the injuries made him feel that way. He didn't always expect the princess to tell him the truth, but this Shāng Bù Huàn had dozens of sorcerous swords at his disposal. He could do whatever he wanted. "Is that why… I cannot remember?"

Cháo nodded. "That sword he used on you did this! Not that you'd want to remember. I'm sure he put you through some unspeakable horrors as his blade!"

The things that villain must've forced him to do with his voice. Did he kill someone with his voice, drive them off a cliff much like he did his mother? What if he drove the good people of Xī Yōu to villainy much as he'd done at the taverns? He didn't want to think about it. It was better that he didn't remember, that he stayed here where his voice could be protected as his mother had told him. "And my pipa?"

"That terrible Shāng Bù Huàn took it like it was some sorcerous blade!" Cháo replied, pushing herself up against him again before he had a chance to escape. She traced his face with her hand before leaning her head against him. "Xiào Kuáng Juàn wasn't able to recover it but I hope that white one will do. I had it made especially for you from only the finest of materials Xī Yōu has to offer."

"Especially for me." Làng didn't want the white one. He wanted the old red one. It was the last thing he had to remind him of his mother, something he had kept tightly close to him and held dear. But it didn't seem like he had a choice in the matter. That villain Shāng had robbed him of his treasured pipa and his memories. He couldn't forgive him for that.

"Now that you're awake, I'll arrange for a special celebration." Cháo ran a hand along his robes, admiring the delicate lacework woven into them. "I hope you're ready for a special performance tonight. Two years is a long time to wait to hear your songs again." She ran a hand along his face before leaving.

Làng stared at the floor, his brow twisted into a knot. "I've lost two years?"

Cháo rounded the corner, her expression twisting into a devious grin. She was still angry with Làng leaving her. She knew the truth. He'd left with Shāng two years ago, becoming an accomplice to that villain of his own volition. He stole swords and aided Shāng in whatever villainy he decided to commit. Strange for someone who had such a pure soul. That decision to go with Shāng was the worst thing Làng could've ever done. Cháo wanted Shāng's head on a platter and Làng as her songbird once again. But that will of his was a problem. She'd make sure that he'd never return to that horrible villainous and willful state, convince him that he was here so she could protect him, and then let the rest fall into place. With sorcerous help, of course.

Cháo stopped before Xiào grinning ear to ear.

"I take it the sword's effects are working perfectly," Xiào pushed his glasses up his nose.

"He doesn't remember a thing," Cháo said. "And you're sure he can't reverse the effects?"

"The Resonant Memory's effects can only be broken by striking the target in the same place a second time," Xiào informed her. "And since that won't be happening. I've ensured every measure that Shāng Bù Huàn believes that Làng Wū Yáo has perished on that cliffside. That villain's resolve will soon be crushed and I'll deliver his head to you on a platter."

He was amused at how easily that seal guardian had fulfilled her end of the bargain. The battle had raged on above him, throwing Làng hard into the ground below. Retrieving the unconscious bard was an easy task. Faking the rest was also easy. Damage and discard the annoying red pipa, scatter some fabric at a nearby cliff to fool the idiot into believing his ally was dead, strike Làng with the memory-thieving sword, and carry him off back to the princess for a large reward.

He could deal with the seal guardian later and retrieve the Mountain Gale, but for now, he'd let her believe he'd carried out his side of the deal. Which he wouldn't.

"His memories are sealed exactly where you specified," Xiào added. "Whatever you tell him after that will become his new absolute truth."

She reached up, grasping his collar and pulling him down to her height. "If anything happens and that villain takes my songbird away from me again, Xiào Kuáng Juàn, I will have you licking my boots for a month as I step on your face. No one is allowed to have Wū Yáo except me."

Xiào pushed up his glasses as she released his collar. He'd rather keep his dignity intact as well as whatever rewards that the princess offered to him. Licking boots didn't exactly fall into his plans. "If that villain shows his face here, I'll be sure to deal with him accordingly. You will have your songbird and I'll have that villain's head." He would make sure of it.

...

Author's musings

Chao really wants Lang back as her songbird, but Lang obviously won't return. It's hard to say how much Xiao really told Chao about what happened. She definitely wouldn't be pleased to know that Lang was now with Shang.

But desperate women with dangerous swords can be quite destructive. And here, that destructive energy targeted Lang's memories. What will become of the songbird now that he's lost two years of his life? What will happen to Shang and Mu?