ACOUSTIC METADATA

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• TIMESTAMP: Summer, 2022 / Autumn, 2006 (Memory Overlay)

• LOCATION: JFK International Airport, NYC / Beijing

• ACOUSTIC TARGET: Prince Anka (Aged iron plates) / General Zhou (Shanghai resonance)

• SUBJECT: Lanhui (Introduction)

 

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I walked out of JFK International Airport, running toward Prince Anka, who stood as motionless as a stone statue. 

 

He gripped my shoulders, tears streaming down his face. In his voice, I heard a desperate effort to breathe with the same old-world heroism I remembered. Yet, I sampled the truth: the noise of decay throughout his ninety-year-old frame. 

 

It was the sound of iron plates grinding against sand—a frequency I had once recorded by my father’s deathbed.

 

“How are you, Grandfather.” Beside me, Lanhui reached out to touch his arm.

“Welcome, National Master. We meet again.” The old Mongol Prince laughed through his tears.

 

 

“White Eagle.” The voice on the phone carried a sharp Shanghai accent—bright, resonant, full of vigor.

 

“General Zhou, are you in Beijing?”

 

I remembered his voice during the Macau handover; back then, his tone had the commanding resonance of a master strategist—far more imposing than now.

 

“Haha, back for a debriefing, then heading south again. It’s too dry here.”

“Understood. Do you have time? Should we meet?”

“I recall your Go skills were quite impressive,” the General noted.

“Hardly. Amateur 3rd or 4th Dan at best.”

“Ayo, perfect. How about I introduce you to a National Master?”

“That would be an honor.”

“Tomorrow, then.”