I am an ancient sword spirit born from chaos. I will always look like a lively girl of seventeen or eighteen, forever young and immortal.
When I awoke from a long slumber, I found myself transformed into the sword worn by Qin Shi Huang.
When I first met him, he was restrained and sinister, suspicious and ruthless.
Assassination attempts, deadly traps at court, and mortal dangers: I quietly foiled them all, saving him from the gates of death time and again.
But when he realized that my consciousness dwelled within the sword, he felt no gratitude, only wariness and distance. He tested me at every turn and kept me on my guard.
I was innocent and guileless, unable to understand the coldness of human hearts. I recognized only my master, silently guarding him year after year, never leaving his side.
Through countless seasons and narrow escapes from death, the cold emperor finally let go of every last defense.
He conquered the six states, brought the eight directions under his rule, ascended the throne, and claimed an empire stretching for thousands of miles. He became the First Emperor, decisive and merciless, feared throughout the world.
Everyone feared his cruelty and coldness, yet he cherished me, the spirit of his sword, as the one and only exception he would ever make.
But I was immortal, while he was only flesh and blood.
Watching me remain forever bright and full of life, the emperor of all ages became consumed by an extreme possessiveness and desire.
Everyone believed he scoured the world for the elixir of immortality because he coveted power and could not bear to leave his empire.
No one knew he feared neither death nor the fall of his dynasty. He sought immortality for only one reason: to keep his little sword spirit by his side, year after year, for as long as time would allow.
