I had a dream on Shiqing Mountain.
In the dream, countless "I's" are chasing me.
Escape, fight, death, rebirth - it goes over and over again, without end.
Until one day, a boy wearing a mask broke into Shiqingshan.
He uses the sword from Huashui Village, and his swordsmanship is exactly the same as mine.
He said his mother loved him very much.
He also said that when he becomes an immortal, he will go back and eat watermelon with his mother.
I looked at his smiling face and suddenly felt chilled all over.
Because his sword is engraved with a pattern that I have seen before.
And that pattern, and the thing on the hilt of my sword that was covered by the black cloth I tore off——
Exactly the same.
That night, the nightmare came again.
Countless black shadows rushed toward me, crashed into me, shattered, and gathered together——
Turned into a blood-soaked eyeball.
I finally know where this escape ends.
But I didn't dare to uncover the face under that mask.
Intention: cutting edge is the greatest filial piety, accepting one's fate is the last wake-up call.