I have been a sharp sword for Xiao Jue for fifteen years. I have accompanied him from the poor prince to the lord of Zhenbei. I have blocked swords for him and killed people for him.
Later, when the new counselor in white shook his feather fan, I became a sinner of collaboration with the enemy and treason.
He broke my leg bones with his own hands, destroyed my Dantian, and finally sent me, an abandoned son, to the capital to give the last drop of blood to his imperial hegemony.
I thought this was the end, but I didn't want to leave my soul behind after death, watching him avenge me and go crazy for me.
I watched him hug my tomb, muttering to himself, begging me to come back.
But Xiao Jue.
What does the regret you have exchanged for thousands of miles have to do with me?
Purpose: Delayed justice is worthless than grass