The sand, all blown away. The sword's edge should shine forever beneath the sun and moon. The desert stretches without end, cold light gleaming along the blade and across the grains of sand. He stands alone beneath the moon. The sword leaves its sheath in a single strike, setting heaven and earth ablaze. The wind, at last, falls still. The wine in the flask holds the very essence of mountains and rivers. A mighty dragon roams the wilds; with wine, one can stride into the clouds and get drunk beside Dongting Lake. All his life, he has boasted of living freely and doing as he pleases.
I feel like the main character in this novel is always abused.