A Lone Swan Beneath the Cold Moon Roams the Martial World

On the night Xiangyang fell, Guo Xiang was placed in a bamboo basket by a mute servant and sent drifting down the river.

Eighteen years later, a mute swordswoman appeared in the martial world, dressed in white as pure as snow and accompanied only by a white ape.

She rescued a young beggar being hunted down, but drew the frenzied pursuit of the Mongol prince Huo Tianqing.

“Hand over the surviving heir of the former dynasty, and I'll spare your life.” Huo Tianqing pressed his curved saber to the boy's throat.

The white ape wailed. The mute woman's sword flashed, and a broken jade pendant fell through the blood.

As her sword pierced Huo Tianqing's heart, a hoarse sound suddenly burst from her throat: “Xiang...”

The little beggar in her arms trembled as he pulled out half of a broken jade pendant. It fit perfectly with the fragment at her waist.

Atop Wudang Mountain, Zhang Sanfeng sighed deeply. “Child, the one you've been protecting isn't the jade seal. He's your own little brother.”

As the sun rose, the bloodstained swordswoman became a new grave at the foot of the mountain.

The little beggar wiped away his tears and turned to leave. In the morning breeze, Zhang Sanfeng's sleeve traced the first arc of the Taiji symbol.