I sigh for the beauty that was, and compose a song for the jade tower. Moonlight brushes my robes; a melody drifts on.
Three thousand strands of hair, enough to break the heart. A promise worth a thousand gold: into whose hands will it fall?
A cold night brings sorrow, tears blur the world. The martial world looks on, yet in the end, all it can do is yearn.
Heartbreak, heartbreak.
Once, I smiled with bewitching grace, while you watched with cold indifference.
Once, I wept with a shattered heart, while you spoke with tenderness.
Once, I looked on with calm detachment, yet you held on tight.
The martial world is nothing more than a gathering of the brokenhearted.
Desolate sorrow is nothing more than the recognition between the strong.
The jade tower is nothing more than where the brokenhearted meet the strong.
I lament that fate is so hard to understand: it let me meet you, only to break my heart.
I resent how fate brings people together and tears them apart: it made me fall in love, only to separate us.
The martial world, desolate sorrow, the jade tower: each is something I cannot forget.
With a single turn of thought, I realized you had been by my side all along.
Desolate sorrow, desolate sorrow.
Do not grieve.
This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.
