Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow.
Walking on tiptoe one day after another,
Until the last second,
All our tomorrows,
But for the fools,
Lighting the way into the dead soil.
Xia Ke Xing
The sky and the earth are vast, and a powerful wind rises, and the rivers and lakes are vast, stretching from west to east.
The frost knife is cold, the stars are falling, the iron horse is rustling in the moonlit night sky.
Laughing at the grudges in a glass of wine, drunkenly listening to the sword song of wind and rain.
Standing alone in the formation of thousands of troops, who can stand with you?
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
