The sword sings within its box, forged by tribulation; clouds rise, and the heart finds support in the Eight Wastes and Five Peaks.
The blade, its cold edge beside the youthful wanderer; waves surge, calamity runs rampant through the Nine Heavens and Four Seas.
You don your seven-foot blade and sweep the stars home. You ask the heavens:
The beauty regrets it; you head north.
For ten years, Qin and Chu have known no spring; armies rise in Yan and Zhao to the thunder of war drums.
Awakening from a dream, smoke from the rivers and lakes drifts into rain; I rise and look out, and the world is once more in turmoil.
Su Zi roams the world with sword in hand, but once in the rivers and lakes, he finds no peace.
He settles the world's affairs around him, then looks back: all the heroes of the Four Seas have returned to the fields!
