Blood-Soaked Night Blade

I rode hard and swung my blade for three thousand li; over ten years, I took nine thousand lives. That was the fate the jianghu had in store for me during my first nineteen years. I began my cultivation journey in Nanjing, carrying a white-haired coffin and the infamous Ghostcleaver Blade. My life was full of misfortune, but I was gifted. I just never expected to be afraid of heights while flying on a magical weapon. My enemies who want me dead are as numerous as hairs on an ox. The people I want to kill, on the other hand, will only grow fewer and fewer. Then one day, after cutting down every injustice in the world, I came to an old bend in the river. I looked all around. There were no Buddhas, demons, or Daoist patriarchs left in the world, only one old ancestor. I told him, “My name is An Huashi.” “Great Ancestor, please accept one slash from your servant!”