Pale Yellow Volume

The rivers and lakes are full of wind and rain, but a volume of "Cang Huang" hides all the spring and autumn. Feng Xiaowu walked alone with his sword behind him, and the shadow of his sword cut into pieces in the setting sun. The calamity fire at Liuyue Villa ten years ago left indelible burn marks in his bones and blood. Sima Yan waited with her harp in her arms for a long time, the strings of the harp tightly entangled in the dusk. The rain on the eaves of Zizhu Villa always wetted her eyes as she looked across the horizon. The dark web of the Cangqiong Gang is woven, and the fragrance of poppies is mixed with blood, fermenting in the secret discussions of Yihongzhuang; Song is hiding in disguise, and the moonlight stolen in the wrinkles cannot illuminate the secret passage of the main altar. Bi Gongxuan's folding fan hides his killer move, Situ Chaofeng's acupressure on the map reveals human life in every fold; Li Qin's silver needle in his sleeve is silent, and the firelight in Qin Feiyu's furnace flickers, reflecting the inescapable panic of the people in the world. The tallow leaves fell into the river, and the blood droplets splashed into ripples, reflecting the broken pages of the "Canghuang Volume" - green is the blood that has not yet cooled, yellow is the cold earth, green and yellow invade each other, disrupting this chaotic world. The encounter between Feng Xiaowu and Sima Yan is the harmony of swords and harp, as well as the entanglement of calamity and fate. The rivers and lakes are far away, and the return boat is hard to find. All encounters are long separations, and all separations are destined. Let's look at this pale yellow scroll, which is full of the shadows of swords, the light of swords, love, hate and madness. Between the turning of green and yellow, a ray of light shines on the destination.