
Xingchui Jianghu Road
by Writerl9vdtr
About This Novel
My name is Xingchen, and I am squatting on the blue-black boulder that has been smoothed by time on the top of Qingfeng Mountain. The fragrance of late autumn vegetation carried by the mountain wind lingers on the tip of my nose, mixed with a faint smell of earth. Master Xuan Chenzi was sitting on the stone next to me, holding a shiny iron wine gourd in his hand. He was telling me about the troubled times that rocked the world four hundred years ago in his hoarse voice, which sounded like it had been repeatedly polished with sandpaper. The mountain wind howled by, causing the strands of hair on my forehead to flap randomly against my cheeks. It also blew the master's white-washed blue robes, and the rough edges at the corners of the clothes trembled gently in the wind. The wine gourd in his hand was already empty, but he still poured it to his mouth stubbornly again and again. His turbid eyes were fixed on the western sky, where the setting sun was dyeing the clouds into a strong blood color, which was very similar to the blood all over the mountains and plains mentioned by the master. "Xingchen, you have to remember," the master's voice sounded a bit gloomy after drinking, "our Qiongxuan Sect's ability to survive in these troubled times has never relied on any shocking martial arts, but on the resilience of wading through the mountains of corpses and seas of blood. And the source of all this starts with the Four Kingdoms War."
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