The Spirit Response Edict

At Tianque, we first met, the blood still wet; in one night at the Sea of Slaughter, bones piled high. Half a soul strung into beads of longing; even forgetting the past, the blade proves hard to lay down. Snow falls across a thousand rivers for eighty thousand years; the wind returns to the spirit realm after sixty thousand. Who says death keeps us apart, beyond all hope of meeting again? At last, someone will lean with you against the railing in this mortal world. Theme: May the world be at peace.