Long ago, the Heavenly Dao destroyed the world, and all things withered. In a cold mountain cave, a boy held his dying younger sister and placed the last half of a steamed bun in her hand.
“Big brother... you eat.”
“I’m not hungry. Qing’er, finish it and live well.”
That night, the boy starved to death beside her.
Holding her brother’s cold body, Qing’er did not cry. She took a rusty sword from a corpse and, with her small fingers, carved two words into its blade: “Walk the Dao.” Then she spoke her first words to this crumbling world:
