Legend of the Swift Blade

Autumn winds rustled, and autumn rain fell softly.

Only the sound of a zither could be heard, distant and lingering.

A man sat by a table, playing the zither. Its melody carried an indescribable desolation and loneliness.

A wanderer roams the world, but where is the end of the world?

The maple leaves had turned red beneath the autumn rain.

The night was black, and the earth was black.

A man walked through the night and through the autumn rain. The rain soaked him, and he felt a little cold.

It had been a long time since he had been alone, a long time since he had walked in the rain, a long time since he had felt cold.

Suddenly, he felt he had walked into a dead-end alley. It seemed he had been here before. But when? No matter how hard he tried, he could not remember.

On the left side of the alley hung a battered lantern at an angle. On the right stood a stone lion missing half its body. Rain fell through the alley, streaming endlessly from the upturned eaves. An indescribable sense of mystery hung in the air.

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.