The Binder

Chapter One: The Wanderer of Shadows

Chapter One: The Wanderer of Shadows

Lin Ran had always been different. Born into the world of the living, but tethered to the realm of the dead, he had spent his life traveling between two realities—the mortal world and the ghost realm, a dark and swirling expanse of forgotten souls, haunting whispers, and ancient artifacts.

He moved through the ghost realm like a shadow, unnoticed by the living, and respected by the dead. Clad in a long, weathered coat that had seen countless journeys, Lin carried a worn leather satchel slung across his back. Inside, among the dim glow of spiritual light, rested his most valuable possessions: ghost artifacts.

These artifacts, collected from the ethereal world, were no ordinary trinkets. Each one held the essence of a lost soul or the remnants of a forgotten story. To the living, they were objects of great power or mystery, able to grant insights into the afterlife or manipulate the thin veil between realms. To the dead, they were cherished memories, pieces of a life once lived, or even keys to unfinished business. And to Lin, they were his currency.

In the mortal world, Lin exchanged these artifacts for knowledge, food, or safe passage. Scholars and mystics sought him out for relics that might offer glimpses into the mysteries of the afterlife. But in the ghost realm, his clientele was more varied—and far more dangerous. He bartered with spirits, some trapped in their own pasts, others longing to move on. Some gave him information about forgotten treasures, while others sought his help to reconnect with the living, often offering powerful artifacts in return.

On this day, Lin found himself in the misty outskirts of a forsaken village, a place where the boundary between worlds was thin. The air was cold, the kind that seeped into your bones, and the sky above was an endless stretch of gray. He knelt by the edge of an ancient well, its stone walls crumbling and overgrown with vines. From inside his satchel, he withdrew a small, silver mirror—a ghost artifact he had acquired from a wandering spirit weeks ago. Its surface shimmered with an otherworldly glow, reflecting not his face, but the faces of those long dead.

Lin's sharp eyes flickered with interest as the mirror began to hum softly, its surface rippling. He felt it—an opportunity. Somewhere close, a spirit was calling to him, drawn by the mirror’s presence. His pulse quickened. Every artifact had a story, and every story could lead to something greater.

"Come," he whispered, his voice carrying across the eerie stillness.

The mist parted, and a figure began to take shape. A ghost, pale and translucent, stepped forward from the shadows. Its eyes were hollow, but its voice, though distant, was filled with desperation.

“You have something of mine,” the ghost rasped.

Lin Ran stood slowly, his fingers brushing the edge of the mirror. “I might. But nothing is free. What do you offer in return?”

The ghost hesitated, its form flickering with uncertainty. “My memories… they are all I have left.”

Lin smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming. “Memories are valuable. Show me.”

And so the ghost began to tell its tale, a story from a time long forgotten. As Lin listened, he could already feel the pull of the next artifact, the next exchange, the next journey. For Lin Ran, there was no rest, only the endless passage between worlds, collecting fragments of the dead, and using them to shape his path through the living.

This was his life—a traveler in the ghost realm, bound by no home, guided only by the artifacts he sought and the stories they held.

And his journey had only just begun.