(The story focuses on her career, with romance as a secondary element.)
The Heavenly Demon clan is wiped out, and Fan Huan, its holy maiden, is the sole survivor.
Burdened by a blood feud, she swears to avenge her people.
Having lost everything, she begins cultivating from scratch. She must not only grow stronger, but also follow the faintest clues to find the person who once shared her blood feud.
As Fan Huan grows stronger step by step, she discovers that the truth of the world goes far beyond what she imagined, and that the destruction of her people hides a tremendous secret.
White robes push open the door, snow weighing on the shoulders
The jianghu has no words, and the night no smoke
I
Golden eyes burn the old mountains and rivers to ash
A glance back suddenly lights my face
Three thousand stellar remains bleed in the shadows
So heaven and earth shared the same source all along
II
I often question whether the sword I ask about is truly a sword
Only when searching for someone do I realize they are not human
I shatter the rusted gates of Guixu
Within and without the gates, all is dusk
III
Demonic markings eat into bone, and spring cannot cross
Star marrow clots in the throat, the song has fallen silent
I once cast a silver bell into the blue sea
The tide’s voice rusted into a bronze note
IV
The youth moored his boat and smiled, pointing at the moon
The moon split, twelve scars across the southeast
He said the pages of reincarnation were not yet complete
A page of leftover snow waits for you to swallow
V
A plum blossom suddenly breaks through my left sleeve
Only then do I know this body is entrusted to cold and warmth
Two rows of footprints cross the snow, shallow and deep
One row is smoke and fire, the other a soul
VI
Blood soaks the blue robe, and in the end it turns white
Kindness and vengeance alike belong to those who hold the lamp
Let us each take half a bowl of frozen river moonlight
To shine on our lone selves through a thousand autumns
VII
If you see the firmament shed tears
It is because the monument to the gods has yet to be raised
The sword case gathers every word of wind and thunder
Leaving only one voice: “I recognize you”
VIII
The old city collapses into rouge-colored earth
New snow covers it like a blank, wordless letter
If you ask where the road began, the wind cuts you off
Vast and boundless, it still points to the coldest sky
Fan Huan
