That year: flowers bloomed and withered, and strange events came one after another;
That year: the pastures grew wild, while carefree days drifted farther away;
The past fades on the wind, as seedlings take root in crimson soil and grow strong.
Today, I step forward, with the fragrance of winter plum blossoms and the glint of a honed sword.
A half cup of dark fragrance arrives, and tales both true and false are told.
His name is Zhang Jiuxu.
He runs a little teahouse,
tells half a cup of strange tales,
and slays the mysteries lurking in a whole realm!
