A Song of the Young Scholar

A cup of wine in the spring breeze among peach and plum blossoms, lamps glowing through ten years of rain in the jianghu.

I used to think ten years was a short time. But after making my way through those long ten years, I found that the land had changed, the world had risen and fallen, and we could never go back to how things were.

Ten years ago, he was the taciturn, long-suffering eldest disciple of Ruowu Manor. The other was a passerby from distant Penglai, hurrying home.

Ten years later, one had become the stern lord of a manor, renowned throughout the jianghu, while the other had become a famous, merciless assassin.

And over those ten years, their fates became intertwined with hers and hers.

Ten years ago, she was the cinnabar mark between his brows, the peach blossom in his heart.

Ten years later, he was the one she could never forget, waiting and sighing as he sang, "Why do you not send me word?"

He thought that after ten years, he had finally waited for her to return. But by a twist of fate, one mistake led to another.

He thought that ten years would surely be enough to bring back the girl she had once been. But time had already become pages of history, impossible to turn back.

Ten years ago, the peach blossoms flourished, brilliant in their beauty.

Ten years later, my beloved, you linger in my heart.

Was this reunion a gift, or the start of fate's cycle once more?

Fates crossed, lives left wanting. The jianghu's storms, a melody drifting on the wind.

Youth slips away. Do not waste your life.

That is all.