(Transmigrating into The Blood of Youth Trilogy)
Dashing Youth, a sword's frosty chill shakes the Nine Provinces;
Shadows of the Dark River decide life and death, as youths once more roam the world.
The jianghu has never lacked dazzling talents. Some raise their swords to challenge the heavens, some drink their way across mountains and rivers, some stake their lives in the darkness, and some plot for the realm at court. All the world bustles for profit; all the world scrambles for fame. Everyone braves the raging waves, fighting to reach the summit in a single bound.
I was but an ordinary mortal, passing the years with books of law in hand and cultivating Daoist arts to nourish my spirit. In a dream of yellow millet, I dreamt I was Zhuang Zhou's butterfly, then suddenly found myself in this turbulent age. I made my home in an old temple on Mount Qingcheng, where moss covered the steps and pine winds filled the courtyard, and lived as an idle Daoist, oblivious to worldly affairs.
Climb no high mountain, and you will not know how vast the sky is; venture not into the jianghu, and you will not know how far the Dao reaches. I seek neither a sword that pierces the heavens nor power over all under heaven. I practice breathing at dawn, pore over old scrolls at dusk, train my fists to stand firm, and recite the Thunder Venerable's teachings to steady my heart. In my leisure, I use Plum Blossom Numerology to observe all things and Chen Tuan's Nine Yao to divine yin and yang. I quietly watch the flowers bloom and fall before the courtyard, and let the clouds drift and gather beyond the sky. With this peace of mind, I am free and at ease. The wine in my cup is full; I shall calmly make the final move and close the game.
No matter how many storms the jianghu brings, I remain as serene as the breeze and bright moon, unmoved at heart. But if wolves run rampant and right and wrong are turned upside down, then even this poor Daoist will rise, shake out his robes, and summon thunder to protect peace in the mortal realm. (A law student with time on his hands, writing on a whim. Dear readers, please don't take this seriously.)
