#the character is qin huaizhang and I Do Not Know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shijiujun · 3 years

Text

山河令 Photobooks | WenZhou Intro Translations

Heya guys! I’m translating some tidbits from the official SHL photobook, starting with the below. Will post all the costume design inspirations up (all 14 of them) when I’m done, but you can check my Twitter thread on @/jiuxiaoer for updates if you are curious, am on Set 4 so far.

Photo quality isn’t great because I don’t have a good camera or scanner haha so bear with me!

***Please do not repost my photos and translations ANYWHERE***

Name: Zhou Zishu

Origins: The 5th manor lord of Four Seasons Manor. When Zhou Zishu was sixteen, he inherited the position after his beloved shifu Qin Huaizhang died of illness. Unable to keep Four Seasons Manor’s reputation from declining, he led the elite from the manor and pledged their support to Jin Province’s military commissioner, to which the Zhou family was loyal to. He then formed Tian Chuang (Window of Heaven). Zhou Zishu’s aim in establishing Tian Chuang was to give himself to the mission of upholding justice, helping the weak and to be a beacon of light in dark, uncertain times. He hoped to pray for fortune and happiness for all who lived, to ensure peace, but he could not help but feed the predator (Prince Jin) himself, turning into an caged beast (eagle) in the struggle for power. The numbers of Four Seasons Manor’s original members declined to zero, all 81 of them.

After painfully losing all his brothers and loved ones, disheartened and unmotivated, he decides to leave Tian Chuang. He hammers one nail every three months out of the seven required ones, a price to pay for him to steal the next three years away for himself and manages to buy his freedom. From then on, he puts on a disguise and hopes to spend the rest of his remaining days wandering jianghu. That is, until he meets his zhiji coincidentally at the end of a bridge in Yue Province, and that’s when he realizes fate has other plans for him.

Appearance: He seems arrogant and distant, is handsome and beautiful like no other. He only has two clear sides - black and white - and his face is slim and pale. HIs mouth is as thin as a single line, and all in all, this adds a tinge of heartlessness to him. His eyes are incredibly bright, his gaze half hidden and whenever he raises his eyes, one shudders.

Personality: Determined, mature, is magnanimous and open to listening to others. He is someone to be feared/respected, gentle and strong. He has the reputation of being “Saint Zhou”. He knows that some things should not be done, but still has to be done, and similarly, that some things can be done, but he is unable to. He is as deep as a frigid pond that extends thousands of feet deep, as calm as quietly flowing water, akin to two layers of grey dust (i.e. there are two layers to his character).

Accessories:

(1) Bai Yi Sword

A light and soft blade that has a handle resembling a crown, fit for a gentleman. The handle is flexible and has carvings that mirror that of the lines in white jade for embellishment. The blade itself has the two words “Bai Yi” inscribed on it in clerical script. It can usually be hidden around the waist and can be used at will whenever necessary.

It was forged by one of the first generation of master blacksmiths Rong Changqing and was originally called “Nameless” (wu ming), before it was changed to Bai Yi by Ye Baiyi. It was then gifted to Qin Huaizhang, and then passed down to Zhou Zishu.

The sword will display different types of characteristics to reflect the wielder’s different state of minds and personalities. In Zhou Zishu’s hands, the sword is clean, bright and decisive, and is truly a sword made for a gentleman. In Wen Kexing’s hands, one cannot evade or hide from the sword and can penetrate the toughest of objects.

(2) Two Pouches

One is white, with matching-colored strings and yellow tassels. The other is forest green, with dark wavy prints, paired with matching-colored strings and blue-gray tassels.

(3) Alcohol Gourd

About the size of a palm with an actual vine as a handle and a screw-on cap. The brown rope connects the handle to the waist of the gourd and is convenient to hold onto.

(4) Alcohol Vessel

Made of bamboo and wrapped with a brown layer of leather. Has carvings as illustration on the sides, the handle is colored and is spectacular with gold accents.

(5) Vials for Disguise

White jade liquid vials - with brown tassels to accompany the bottles which are coupled with red coral beads.

Name: Wen Kexing

Origins: Healer’s Valley Wen Ruyu and Gu Miaomiao’s son. His parents are implicated in the Rong Xuan incident and die as a result, having lost everything as a young boy, he falls to the depths of the Ghost Valley and has to struggle to survive. Through hundreds of trials and challenges he becomes highly skilled, then takes on the mantle of a the new Ghost Valley Master. Although he has sunken deep into filth and darkness, he keeps his burning, genuine heart; although he resides in hell, he is still unbearably kind. In the pursuit of revenge, he swears to eliminate all the sin and filth from the world, to cleans the world with his own body and commands all the ghosts to clear the nest and head outside, causing chaos within the martial arts world. He originally thought he would live the rest of his life as something that is not fully human, a ghost, but suddenly meets the only light in his lifetime.

Appearance: Handsome and elegant, carefree; with well-defined features, with doe-eyed innocent eyes, confident and at ease; once you see him you’ll forget his origins/background. His face is fair and white, his eyes bright. It is as if a deity/immortal has descended into the human realms, so beautiful, akin to a demon(ness).

Personality: Seemingly evil and out of control, someone who laughs and rages for no reason, but has a passionate heart. He is heartless and distant to everyone around him, immensely arrogant, but is incredibly warm to people close to him. He is akin to the beauty of the last vestiges of the spring season, a kaleidoscope of colours within black.

Accessories:

(1) Fan

The design draft shows a white fan made with seashells and ivory. The fan guard would be made of carved ivory with clouds for prints, while the ribs and face of the fan are made with shiny shells which look like one cohesive piece when opened. Bright and elegant, beautiful beyond belief. However, because using these animal-made materials is prohibited, they changed it to a wooden fan in the show itself. A fan is a representation of a man’s status and where his culture lies and its beauty is enough to amaze the world.

The fan is not only a refined-looking belonging that lies in his sleeves, but also a light and convenient weapon. When faced with his enemies, he can take them out in a single move.

(2) Short Blade

The handle of this blade is made out of white jade and is encrusted with silver embellishments and red gems. The sheathe has some silver metallic carvings and a white tassel with jade beads. There are further carvings on the skeleton of the blade, and it can cut through nails and other metals, even gold and jade (an idiom to describe how firm, strong and solid the blade is). The blade is short and easy to conceal, and is Wen Kexing’s defense weapon he holds close to him.

(3) White Jade Hairpin

The hairpin that Gu Miao Miao and Wen Ruyu entrusts to him before they die, and this hairpin is the key to the armory. In Episode 31, Wen Kexing gifts this pin to Zhou Zishu, and in Episode 36, Wen Kexing takes it from Zhou Zishu’s hair and uses it to open the armory.

(4) White Jade Flute

The body of the flute is made with white jade and it gets its shape from bamboo. Both ends have silver embellishments, the silver parts were manufactured separately. The tassel is in silver with a honey-colored (amber) bead at the top. The final product got rid of the bamboo sections and extra silver embellishments to make it look simpler.

In Episode 4, Wen Kexing uses this flute for the first time to play the Bodhi Heart Clearing song. It is firm, with hundreds of turns and twists, no regrets, all to aid Zhou Zishu in recovering from his inner injuries.

(5) Alcohol Vessel

The vessel body is made out of bamboo with a brown layers of leather encasing it. Golden accents, carvings on the side and a dark-colored handle.

(6) Night Pearl Stone

In Episode 18, Wen kexing uses this pearl to look into the mountain valleys of Long Yuan Pavilion.

(7) Alcohol/Wine Holders

In Episode 3, Wen Kexing orders Ah Xiang to use this as a holder to help Zhou Zishu heat up his wine

#shan he ling #shl #word of honor #woh #山河令 #shl photobook #shl merch #wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu

418 notes · View notes

nancywheelxr · 3 years

Note

i'm not sure if you prefer more specific prompts but if you have any interest, something canon-era (compliant or divergence) in the realm of "ye baiyi & every- or anyone"? whichever characters you wanna include; a moment or moments where he feels like maybe there is a little more to the rest of his life than duty and death. it's not only warm food he's been starved of for decades. your writing is great, i hope you're having a good day!

hi! thank you sm! i love getting prompts regardless, honestly, the only difference is that more specific ones tend to get done faster if only bc I already have a loose idea where to go with it! anyway, this somehow turned into a fix-it. that being said, I hope you’re having a lovely day too!

They’re so painfully young.

A bird chirps in a tree somewhere nearby and around the fire, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple throws the blanket on the Wen brat’s face. What set off his sensibilities this time, Ye Baiyi doesn’t know, it might have been the perceived coddling, it might have simply been the fussing– either way, it’s pointless. Does he not know the brat will simply wait until he’s asleep to cover him? Does he not know their ridiculous dance around each other is nothing but time wasted?

How do the young ever get anything done?

Foolish. Have they ever been that foolish? Changqing, he knows, was a most ridiculous man with even more ridiculous ideas– who’s the bigger idiot, then, the fool or the one who loves him?

“Ye-qianbei,” the boy appears at his side, wide-eyed like a newborn deer and with legs as shaky as one too, “if you’re cold, we have more blankets.”

The absurdity of the situation– to ask Ye Baiyi if he’s cold! What’s the night chill compared to the snowy grounds of his mountain? To him, is this not warm weather? “Little fool,” he says, shaking his head even as he laughs, “you’d do better worrying about your idiot master and his idiot friend.”

The kid looks across the fire, grimaces. “I don’t dare, I don’t dare! My brothers used to tell me not to get in the way when my parents were arguing!”

What a ridiculous child. Ye Baiyi laughs again. “They’re not arguing, they’re being dumb. Watch this,” he flicks a little rock at them, hitting Qin Huaizhang’s disciple in the forehead and earning an outraged glare from the Wen brat. “Qing Huaizhang’s disciple, your disciple is freezing off while you’re fooling around. Is this how you the two of you are going to raise your child?”

Beside him, the kid makes a startled little noise like a scared little rabbit before launching into a stuttering denial, but it’s too late, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple has already turned to focus on him as if smelling blood. “Chengling, are you cold? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Ah, no, no, I’m really not,” he tries, but he is, he wouldn’t have known to worry about others if he hadn’t been feeling the chill himself. “Ye-qianbei! Ye-qianbei–”

“Ah, ah!” Wen Kexing interrupts, shaking a finger in his direction, “why are you calling him? Come here, have this blanket since your Shifu is being stubborn.”

The boy goes obediently, shuffling around and nearly tripping on the log, and allows the Wen brat to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. Predictably, once he’s tucked in, the kid beams, pulling it tightly around himself.

“Chengling, if you’re cold, you have to tell us,” says Qin Huaizhang’s disciple as if that’s a scolding, as if he’s not fussing over the child himself, stoking the fire and throwing in more kindling.

A silly child with even sillier parents. Ye Baiyi snorts, shaking his head, and for a fleeting moment, he imagines walking this path alone– searching for the truth on his own, a silent forest stretching all the way to Longyuan Cabinet, only his footsteps left behind to prove he was even there at all– whatever. Picking up Qin Huaizhang’s dumb disciple and his dumb companions might not have been his worst decision so far.

Maybe he could have found the place already if he were on his own, but at the very least they’re entertaining. Ridiculous, he thinks fondly, shaking his head at the blanket the kid has left folded at his feet.

ii.

What a mess.

Rong Xuan, you little brat, he thinks. How long has it been since the boy had first toddled up to him, little hands grabbing fistfuls of his robes? Too many, an eternity, and now nearly all of the boy’s friends are dead, all but one, and Ye Baiyi has to pay his respects to this freshly dug grave in his place.

What a mess.

If you were in trouble, why didn’t you come back? Questions, questions, it’s too easy to ask them now. Why didn’t you ask for help? Why didn’t you send for us? Why did you think it would accomplish, running away? Stupid child, did you think we would turn you away?

No, there’s no use asking them now, no point in dwelling in the past. What is there to change, after it already happened? Life is a very long road and the past is a land too distant to travel back to; Ye Baiyi would rather focus on the now.

Avenging their child had not been part of the promise he made to Changqing, but Ye Baiyi found the truth of this matter as he told him he would and the truth of it is that someone poisoned his disciple, his child. This cannot go unpunished, so for a while longer, he’ll live.

Further still, a little ways down, is Wen Kexing, whose parents died for Rong Xuan’s mistakes. A child growing up in a harsh world on his own. This debt, he’ll repay too.

For all that he gives his promises away like currency, Ye Baiyi is not sure how he feels about the piling of them– they stretch his finally numbered days, always pushing the deadline further. After the Heroes Conference, he’ll be done with the Ghost Valley. After he finds Rong Xuan’s murderer, he’ll be done with this mess. After he repays Wen Kexing, he will be at peace.

And then–

Well. And then wine. Warm food. That was the plan, was it not? Heavens, he’s beginning to sound like Qin Huaizhang’s silly disciple, isn’t he? This won’t do. Changqing, even you would laugh at them. Tell me, then, if you were here, what would you do? Ah, something nonsensical, most likely, like go watch the plum trees bloom.

Ye Baiyi shakes his head, laughs. Changqing ah, won’t you tell me what to do? Maybe this time I’ll listen to you.

iii.

What kind of nonsense is this?

In all fairness, as much as his opinion of Wen Kexing has been as changing as the seasons, his uncanny ability to be an annoying nuisance has never flickered. He was annoying when he was staring down Ye Baiyi’s sword and he was annoying when he kneeled on the forest bed in apology and plea.

Surely, it’s no surprise that he is annoying now, allegedly dead.

And yet, Ye Baiyi had not anticipated this level of stupidity from him: the brat did not tell Qin Huaizhang’s disciple of his plan.

Children, honestly.

Now, the hem of his robes is wet and a few feet away, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is wasting perfectly good wine in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. “Whatever stupid thing you’re planning,” Ye Baiyi says, eyeing the broken jar by the rocks, the dullness around the brat, “don’t.”

Zhou Zishu whirls on him with all the grace of a dying wet cat as if he’s in any condition to be fighting anyone, as if his hands weren’t shaking and his steps didn’t falter. The sword, once elegant and proud, wavers. Stupid boy. “Ye Baiyi, you–”

“Have you lost your manners down that jar? Or just your common sense? Put that away before I knock it off your hand myself,” he sighs, shaking his head. He should have stayed in his rooms, like planned, until the Heroes Conference; none of this has anything to do with him, his role in this play is mostly over, he just has to wait it out the intermission. And yet. “What kind of nonsense were you thinking? That fool, Wen Kexing, ran around for days like a headless chicken trying to save you and for what? You to throw it away?”

“What’s the point?” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple laughs, cold as the mountains, “what’s the point if he’s not here? Tell me, qianbei, why should I care to live if my soulmate is gone?”

His sword is dragging up the mud and Ye Baiyi wants to call him disrespectful for it, but the sight of it alone dredges up a well of grief that drowns the words in his throat. Why, indeed. This terrible emptiness, Ye Baiyi knows well– the hollow silence that comes where once a familiar voice called your name, the cold where once there was warmth, a hand never reaching back. Snow, all through summer and spring.

“Because that dumb disciple of yours will not last a day on his own,” he tells him, watching the water run towards the cliff’s edge, “because Qin Huaizhang has only you to pass on his legacy. Because that ridiculous hairpin on your head.”

“That’s not fair,” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple says, sounding exactly like he had been about to do something incredibly stupid earlier that would render this entire charade pointless from the start.

Truth be told, few things are, least of all, fate. Ah, but Ye Baiyi had unchanging decades to come to terms with that, perhaps he should spare the boy the heartache, unfounded as it is. “It’s not, but enough is enough. What are you crying for? Did you think it’s that easy to get rid of that pest? He should be ashamed if a little tumble is all it took.”

“Qianbei… you mean?”

Ye Baiyi heaves a pointedly tired sigh. “Yes, yes, the brat is alive. Probably holed up somewhere in that blasted valley of his.”

Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is as wide-eyed as his baby-deer disciple and if he actually starts crying, Ye Baiyi will drag Wen Kexing out of hiding kicking and screaming just to push him down the cliff again for making him witness this. He’s too old, he has little patience for the dramatics of the young, and he’s supposed to be drinking the best wine from the Yueyang area.

So before he’s pulled even further into their nonsense, Ye Baiyi turns away, back to town and his quarters where he can drink and meditate in peace and really, Qin-xiaozi, your disciple is even sillier than you.

At his back, he hears Zhou Zishu call, but his voice is lost to the waterfalls and Ye Baiyi makes no real effort to catch the words. What’s there to say? Pah, he’s already done more than his share on this, at no point did he promise to intervene on their pointless little dance. Once this is all over, that brat has better pay for all the wine in the land. And make those dumplings, too, for good measure.

iv.

Nobody told him whose wedding this is.

Considering they are in this thrice-damned place, he’s assuming it’s one of the ghosts, but Ye Baiyi figures the brat would be more annoying if it was his and Qin Huaizhang’s disciple’s. Then again, his own presence here is unfathomable, as is the insistence with which the little idiot had asked him to come. What on earth has Qin Huaizhang’s disciple told that child? Give someone an inch and they’ll take a mile, truly– now that boy is running around thinking Ye Baiyi cares about these lunatics.

“Who let him in!” Wen Kexing is screeching from somewhere, and Ye Baiyi mourns his peace as the brat approaches with his purple shadow trailing after. Had she been there this entire time? He squints. No, he would have noticed it, she’s very loud. “Old toad monster! Why are you still here? Who allowed you past the gates?”

“Who are you to tell me where to go?” He scoffs, flicking his sleeves as he crosses his arms. Nearby, a ghost hastily scurries away. “And it was your dumb disciple who begged me to be here. For what? Will there even be a banquet? And you call that decorations? That lantern is so crooked, it’s offensive!”

The purple child bristles. “Ah! And who does that silly boy think he is, inviting people to my wedding! Old man, you! Of course there’s gonna be food! Master and Luo-yi have been–”

“A-Xiang!” The brat cuts her off, closed fan tapping her forehead, as if everyone and their grandmothers don’t already know he’s been running around making preparations. What face is there to save, shameless as he is? If Ye Baiyi was a lesser man, he might have rolled his eyes. “Stop running your mouth, what is your husband going to say? And you! What crooked lantern? You’re going blind in your age!”

Still, even as he speaks, a pointed glare sends the ghosts scattering like mice, rushing to check on the decorations. Ridiculous. “No wonder the girl has no manners. What, you only know how to be polite when asking for something?”

Wen Kexing grumbles. “This one apologizes, qianbei.”

Well, that’s certainly worse. Unsettling. If even Wen Kexing starts being deferential, then what has the world come to? No, Ye Baiyi finds he’d prefer the brashness. Stupid child, what’s the point in changing his tune now? Pah. “Girl,” he says to that purple wisp of a thing, “your master is a pest. Where’s the wine?”

Baffling enough, the girl laughs, tugging at her master’s sleeves. “Master, master, Zishu-ge was right! You did make a friend!”

“What nonsense is this! Don’t you know when A-Xu is teasing? Friends! As if–”

“What rubbish have you been filling these children’s heads with?” He shakes a threatening finger in their direction. Not that it matters, considering the girl has already stepped back, giggling as she sidesteps Wen Kexing’s fan.

Leaving them to their childishness, Ye Baiyi slips out of the crowd, picking a jar of wine as he goes. The alcohol is good, burning down his throat, and he hadn’t thought he’d step foot in the Ghost Valley, not like this. Something in him will always recoil at this place, always lay the blame at the valley’s mouth, a yawning jaw that’s swallowed whole the people most precious to him with no mercy.

And yet, Changqing ah, you bastard, look at it. They’re holding a damned wedding, and here Ye Baiyi is, drinking their wine. Are you happy now? Did you become a bodhisattva yet? Fate makes fools of them all, there’s no way around it. He pours the wine over the rocks, lets it spill and run like blood. Xuan’er, did I not tell you not to climb so high? That shifu wouldn’t always be there to catch you if you slip on the ice? Ye Baiyi laughs at the memory– always clear in his mind, suspended in time, unfading, even if his sight blurs with tears– that boy, always scaring them half to death, climbing up the frozen mountainside as a child, then crying in fright once he looked down.

“Look at the mess you’ve both left me,” he says out loud, downing the rest of the wine, and the silence is never quite as loud as in the hollow space where another would speak. For so long, Ye Baiyi knew to leave room for Changqing’s teasing, for their child’s incessant questions, even Rong-furen’s tired voice. Then, nothing. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm? Typical. I’ll drink for all of us this time, then, how about it? Changqing, I’m keeping my promises, so you’d better keep yours or I’ll–”

The jar breaks where it falls from his fingers and he shakes his head as if dispelling the murky thoughts from his head. Perhaps, coming here was a mistake. The ashes have already been sent back to Changming, so what business does he have in this place? To see it closed with his own eyes? Besides, a wedding or two, a handful of people, are not worth the bloodshed creating the valley has brought, no matter what Changqing might say.

Is this a comforting story to be told later, if– by the bridge, in case–

His thoughts grind to a halt, veering off suddenly into attention to his surroundings. Someone is coming. Indeed, from his place near the entrance, Ye Baiyi can see in the distance a mob climbing up the path, silent as thieves in the night, with only a blue streak of disciples in plain sight at the front.

So much for avoiding bloodshed. Did they even wait for the dust to settle after the monks left town? And what kind of harebrained scheme is this? Has this generation been born with no brains? Such a reckless, petty move! No honor, agreeing to something and then plunging the knife behind their backs.

There is little time to curse their dishonesty, though, with their numbers fast approaching, so Ye Baiyi swipes a last look at the desolate landscape and slips back inside to sound the alarms. After all, heaven knows that little purple girl will be terribly loud if she doesn’t get her wedding, and Ye Baiyi is not looking forward to remembering what headaches feel like. Honestly, if these people would stop nearly dying for five fucking minutes–

Today, the mirror showed a new patch of white hair, faint lines at the corner of his eyes.

Time, it seems, is catching up to him.

It’s exhilarating.

The plum trees have already lost their blossoms, winter gone as swiftly as it came, the cold melting to the lingering warmth of spring. Today, he walks past blooming azaleas, purple and red radiant against the blue backdrop of the sky.

It brings him to little Qin Huaizhang standing beside Rong Xuan, trying so very hard to impress his friend’s seniors with all the desperation of youth. The poetry he had waxed about his sect’s gardens– Four Seasons Manor, blooming all year round! Ye Baiyi had found him so silly, blabbering while Rong Xuan beamed, so quick to pick the fights Rong Xuan dropped.

At the time, had he not thought history was repeating itself, if kinder? The Baiyi sword, gifted with the promise to keep his dumb disciple out of trouble? He still remembers Changqing’s face, the hypocrite. So exchanging swords for cursed books is fine, but anything else and you draw the line? At least promises were as reliable as the person making them.

Now, he has to admit, the silly boy had not been wrong– Four Seasons Manor stands in more color than Ye Baiyi had thought possible. If he’ll have time to witness all its blooms, he doesn’t know, but this spring, he’s here, and isn’t that enough?

At the gates, the young disciple lets him in without a word, bowing respectfully like his seniors have never done. Good. At the very least, those two good-for-nothing brats had the decency to forewarn their juniors of his arrival. How long has it been since Qin Huaizhang’s disciple woke up from the procedure? Aiyah, Ye Baiyi can’t remember, he had been traveling south at the time.

Well, it’s long enough to be past the need for coddling, that’s for sure. “Qin Huaizhang’s disciple, what kind of Sect Leader are you that you won’t come greet your esteemed guest?”

“Not really a Sect Leader,” comes the voice from his left as Zhou Zishu rounds into view, his silly disciple trailing faithfully after him. He looks better now, death no longer draped over his shoulders like a shroud, smiling like he found peace somewhere in the months since that disastrous wedding. “Qianbei, this one is honored to welcome you to our house. You’ve come at a good time, A-Xiang is visiting with her husband too.”

“Who’s an esteemed guest here? All I’m hearing is a bunch of freeloaders!” says Wen Kexing from somewhere inside the building, just as loud and brash as always, and following his words, the thundering footsteps of children.

Ye Baiyi snorts, shakes his head. Changqing ah, wait a little while longer, will you? I’m on my way, but I have some places to visit first. Meet me by the bridge, I’ll tell you all about it in a bit.

#woh #word of honor #yby #ye baiyi #fix it fic #shl #wen kexing #zhou zishu #gu xiang #wenzhou #ye baiyi/rong changqing #woh fanfic #woh tag #yby tag

86 notes · View notes