If I told you that the protagonist of a book only practiced a set of basic swordsmanship from beginning to end, would you still want to read it?
This is a novel that goes against all the "cool writing" conventions.
There are no adventures, no counterattacks, no grudges and grudges. It writes about the wind in the bamboo forest, the dents on the bluestone, and the quiet power that grows in the body after repeating the same action a hundred thousand times.
Reading it is like sitting in the mountains and watching a silent man practice his sword for a lifetime.
Then you look back and realize that something in your heart has slowed down.
This book is called "Useless Sword". It talks about how a "useless" thing can become the whole meaning of a person.
