I have been searching for the meaning of the sword for half my life. The sword in my hand is always held only for the people I care about. After a thousand sails have passed, I look back and realize that the sword I once picked up is no longer there, and the person I miss is ultimately far apart.
In the spring rain of Jiangning, on the banks of Taihu Lake, on the top of Shushan Mountain, on the side of the Miao border, in the three realms of gods, demons and humans, traveling all over the world, they spent the most beautiful years together still, even if they didn't know where the road they were taking would lead, the beliefs in their hearts never changed.
The young boy and girl holding hands and growing old together under the passing light, holding each other's hand on the old road, watching all the ups and downs, drinking memories alone...