The rumours that had spread throughout the sects had been true, somewhat.

Fifteen years ago, when Qiu Yumin had been one of the former chief’s senior advisors in the Three Rivers Alliance, she had met a strange girl – much like the one who sat in front of her now, staring wide-eyed at an untouched cup of freshly brewed tea.

Yumin – or Granny Qiu, as most of the young’uns affectionately called her – could understand why her disciples were raising such a fuss. The customs usually varied slightly from sect to sect, but generally, the people of the jianghu did not readily accept outsiders unless they earned a place among their ranks. But she also knew she was in a position that no one would dare question her decision. At this, she smiled to herself, and then glanced back up at the girl sitting across from her.

They sat in the courtyard near the east wing of the Alliance’s base, with a small wooden table between them laden with sweets and tea.

“Please do drink the tea before it gets cold,” Yumin said warmly. “It is not poisoned, do not worry.”

The girl looked startled. She dipped her head slightly in a nod, and hesitantly brought the cup to her lips.

When Yumin first saw her, she’d been wearing strange clothing – dyed in bright, unnatural colours and fitted in an odd way that was so different from the flowing fabrics of the tradition tunic worn by the people of the kingdom. They’d given her a set of more suitable clothes upon her arrival, but there was still something quite foreign about her appearance. Perhaps it was because she wore her hair loose like a barbarian, but cut neatly a little past her shoulders – a style unheard of in this country. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, the stiffness in her shoulders and the cast of her eyes indicating experience with a different set of customs. These small things, Yumin might not have noticed if they hadn’t been uncannily familiar.

A girl from another land – to think she would have the fortune to meet another one in this lifetime.

When the girl placed her cup gingerly back down on the table, Yumin spoke again.

“What is your name, child?”

The girl shook her head, and glanced down sadly at her tea.

“You cannot tell me?” Yumin pressed.

She shook her head again. “I…don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything.”

It had been like that fifteen years ago as well. Yumin reached for her own tea, her hands wrapping tightly around the heated porcelain.

“It is far better to have a placeholder to use for now than to remain nameless,” she told the girl as she took a sip of tea. “Until your memories return, you can call yourself Hino, as you were found near the Hino tree. I think it suits you.”

The truth was, Yumin had another name in mind, a name that came to her so naturally when she looked at this girl. A name that she wouldn’t be lying when she said, it suits you.

The girl, Hino, smiled faintly, looking pleased with her new name. “Thank you…”

“You can call me Granny Qiu,” Yumin said. “If you are not going to drink that tea, come here child, and let me fix your hair.”

Hino obliged, and took a seat on the ground next to her.

“Your hair is short, and if you keep it loose, you will stand out too much in this country,” the old woman explained, as her fingers wove deftly through Hino’s hair. “Even if you wear the clothing of our sect, people will gossip. People here do like to gossip.”

She produced a pin from the depths of her sleeves and slid it into the plaited hair. “You are awfully calm about all this. Surely it must be disorienting or frightening to not remember anything at all?”

Hino was silent for only a moment. “Disorienting, yes. But not frightening. When all your memories are gone, along with your personality…it’s hard enough as it is to distinguish what little you know from what you see. I decided it was better to just go along with it, wherever it takes me.”

“How sensible,” Yumin said quietly. “But it will be useful to understand where you are, at least, if nothing else. This is the kingdom of Ruan, currently ruled by the Imperial Yue family. Right now, we are outside of the capital, in the jianghu, but the Emperor’s influences extend across the country.

“He and his sons are good people, and the kingdom is prospering under their rule. Normally, the martial artist communities like us steer clear from court politics but the royal family has a lot of support among the people here. The Crown Prince Wenzhi is righteous and filial, and he is the hope of the Emperor and our kingdom. The younger son, Wenyu is…” Yumin paused and sighed heavily, “He is a real piece of work, lazy and uncommitted to the court, runs around the jianghu like an idiot –”

As if on cue, a young man suddenly burst into the courtyard, dramatically leaping down from the rooftop and landing lithely in front of them. He grinned, and bowed low in a respectful greeting. Hino had scooted back from the table, looked horrified, but he didn't seem to notice her yet.

“Yue Wenyu, you reckless child,” Yumin scolded, standing up abruptly. “Do you not have responsibilities within the palace?”

Wenyu laughed. “You worry too much, Chief! Can’t your apprentice visit you once in a while?”

He looked around the courtyard fondly, but his smile faltered when his gaze landed on Hino, who looked as if she was trying to disappear into the bushes.

“Hey, who’s that?”