Dressed as the seventh son of Ying Zheng, I don't fight, grab, or take sides. My father is doting on me and no one in the court takes me seriously - because I'm blind. It took half a month to accept his fate, but something was wrong with Da Qin. The world's best swordsman flew his sword to take people's heads, practiced kung fu and couldn't cut with his sword, and his iron cavalry chased the traitor all over the mountain. The surface scenery is about to collapse underneath. I leaned against the window with gray eyes and couldn't see anything. I was thinking over and over in my mind - in this world of martial arts, could a blind young master be able to touch things that others can't?
