Rusty Sword for Ten Thousand Years
by The Wind Is Falling And The Smoke Is Falling
About This Novel
If everyone is mortal, then what is the meaning of living? Everyone yearns for eternal life, but everyone does not know that what eternal life brings in exchange is endless loneliness and countless separations. I don't remember anything, I just remember that after they died, all I had left was this rusty sword that had been raised for thousands of years. In these ten thousand years, I have experienced countless separations, some lasting a few days, months, and years, and some lasting a lifetime. I met, got together with, and fell in love with them countless times, but all I got in exchange was separation again and again. In my eyes, they are like mayflies, born to die. But they left countless footprints with their short lives, but I never left anything They say I am a god or a fairy, but I don't think so myself. Am I a god? Immortal? No, I am nothing. Maybe I was originally a human being, but I am no longer a human being.
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