Sura Path: The First Chapter of the Six Paths of Humanity

Author: Bu Feixian
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-11-01
Features: ★, The leading figure in new wuxia fiction, Bu Feixian, grandly launches a new wuxia series ★, A legendary massacre, until the very end, no one can decipher the outcome ★, The Asura race, blessed by heaven but lacking its virtue, indulging in slaughter, endless cycles of rebirth Bu Feixian's new wuxia series grandly launches. This is a legendary story about massacre: twelve "legendary" assassins, each with twelve tattoos on their bodies, representing twelve brutal death scenarios. They are the pawns of their masters. Of the twelve, only one can survive in the end, and that person's survival must come at the cost of the deaths of the other eleven. Who will be the one lucky enough to survive? Who is the mastermind behind the scenes? Until the very end, no one can decipher the outcome. [Content Introduction] In a small town named Slaughter, twelve assassins named after figures from Tang Dynasty legends—Nanke Prefect, Pei Hang, Wang Xianke, Ren Shi, Huo Xiaoyu, Xie Xiaoe, Kunlun Servant, Xingyang Gentleman, Hongnian, Liu Yi, Hongxian, and Nie Yinniang—are the twelve "legends" nurtured by their master over ten years. On different parts of their bodies, they bear a fan-shaped tattoo that only becomes visible with the blood of the legendary themselves. The twelve tattoos depict twelve different brutal death scenarios. It seems the master of the legends takes pleasure in altering their outcomes. Every scene of the legends' massacres seems to bear the traces of the master. In this bloody game, who is the pawn and who is the one playing the game? Who is the puppet and who is the hand pulling the strings? Only one person will survive in the end, and the legend who collects all eleven tattoos will gain freedom. When the twelve tattoos are pieced together, they reveal a shocking secret! At this moment, a legend named Bu Feixian quietly emerges. Who will be the final survivor? Who is the mastermind behind the scenes? Until the very end, no one can decipher the outcome.
The town of Asura is located at the junction of Shu and Dian, surrounded by mountains on the east, south, and west sides, and faces Lu Tou River to the north. It is extremely remote. Beyond the misty Yunwu Mountain to the south lies the land where the Huo people and the long-necked Miao people live together. Although trade has been bustling along the Shu-Dian border since ancient times, the town is far from the southbound trade route and lacks abundant resources. On ordinary days, apart from a few salt merchants taking temporary rest, no outsiders disturb the townspeople. The residents live in a paradise-like existence. In late autumn, damp rain fills the sky above this frontier town. Just as the townspeople are about to harvest the rice and repair their houses, they discover that many strangers have suddenly appeared in the town. They seem to arrive gradually, yet as if overnight. They neither visit friends nor engage in business. During the day, they vanish without a trace, as if disappearing into the dense alleys of the town. At night, they suddenly appear, like countless night spirits, silently wandering through the town. The residents cannot even determine how many of them there are, nor understand their purpose for coming, but they all feel an inexplicable sense of unease. As soon as night falls, they lock their doors and hope they will leave soon. Pei Hang, however, is a special one among these strangers. He carries no luggage, dressed in a scholar's green robe, appearing gentle and polite, though his sleeves are unusually long, hanging down to his knees. He has been in this town for seven days, yet no one has ever seen his hands. Unlike others, Pei Hang does not go out to wander at night but stays in the only inn in the town. During the day, he rents the window-facing eight-immortals table on the second floor, orders a bowl of clear water, and stares out the window all day long. Apart from the water, he never orders anything from the inn but tips generously, more than guests who eat lavish meals. No wonder the innkeeper's face lights up the moment he sees him. Legends about him in the town also grow. Some say he is waiting for someone; others say he is searching for the celestial book buried in the town by the legendary White Monkey Taoist before his ascension; still others say he can see the room of his childhood sweetheart from the window of the second floor—even though she no longer lives here, he still returns every day, gazing at the empty balcony. Sometimes, the young waiter can't help but sneak a peek out the window from his seat. But the result is always disappointing: there is nothing special outside. Across the narrow cobblestone street lies a row of ordinary balconies, their large blue bricks whitewashed with inferior lime, like the lead powder on the faces of low-class courtesans. A row of black tiles stretches along the eaves, densely packed, with rain lines, stretching from the edges of the tiles to the cobblestones in front of the door. It had rained heavily the night before, and the evening air was cold and gloomy, filled with the stench of decaying plants and animals. A few scattered guests were drinking and shouting loudly inside the inn. A faint sob came from the corner of the room. Amidst the sounds of gambling and drinking, the sob was almost inaudible, like the meow of a cat. But Pei Hang's sharp eyes, like those of an eagle, fixedly stared at the counter in front of him.