Drifting in a drunken haze for three thousand years, I ask neither Heaven nor fate.
The Great Dao and the boundless world each go their own way. When have I ever raised my eyes to look at the Sword Immortal?
“I count myself lucky, because I have one more world than you do.”
(The original idea was to make this prologue concise, but the chapter has a minimum word count requirement. Please bear with me, and thank you all very much for your patience.)
