A Sword, a Love, and the Wandering Swordswoman

A song of longing in the mortal world

A single stroke, a laugh, a conversation

Though affection may be thin

This bond of loyalty will never end

A long heart follows the two filial ones

A single stroke paints the jianghu

Tender feelings come from a woman's heart

All things are empty, beyond measure

How many times have we weathered storms and tribulations?

A stroke brings down the Flying Imperial City

The phoenix's flow is not bound by love

The heart slays all thoughtless things

The imperial capital stirred up the generations to come. Sun Wu was already old, his hair graying late, and had passed away not long ago. His sect sought independence, casting off the old banner to raise its own. For a reason, the jianghu did not end there. Before it was settled who would rule the land, this was only the beginning!

Heroic and tragic, yet no strange doctrines beyond the Way; alas, even flying pigeons cannot sever threads of affection sunk deep in the bones. This woman's jianghu is no place for you punks to chatter and joke.

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