The sword leans against the yellow sand, arrogant among the heroes, but inseparable, love and hate. The lonely swordsman travels across the boundless desert. The lonely wind smile hints at the swordsman. . . . . . The rebellious boy in the past has become an unparalleled hero. His long and arduous growth has trained him to dance alone in the world and be proud of the world. . . . . . Her eyes were still full of autumn sorrow, making her beautiful face look like withered yellow all over the ground. Little did she know that the result of waiting would make her sad or happy. . . . . . Who can tell and see clearly, having fallen in love with someone in the world of mortals, whether the mistakes of my life are my fault or the indulgence of fate. . . . . . .