Seven years later, Mo Ruoqing Feilan. The wind is carefree and the water is cold. Lonely in Jiangnan.
The martial arts world in Jiangnan is torn apart and smoke is rising everywhere. The gentle and quiet Jiangnan is finally covered with endless haze. The bloody storm spread without restraint. That is the beginning of decay from the very core. The so-called unity has also settled in the hearts of every Jiangnan knight, floating up and down in the darkness, unable to extricate himself.
With Jiangnan like this, how can we hope for the top spot?
How many passing years have passed, Liu Qing has passed away. The only thing is, Jiangnan is lonely. Who can know the loneliness that pervades the world? The rivers and lakes on the other side are as lonely as snow. Whoever trudged past with whomever, the sky was full of red. Who else is riding a sword and riding a horse, joining hands to win the title, in the misty rain south of the Yangtze River.
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This life is quite self-promising. The arrogance hidden in each other's hearts is bottomless. After drinking and discussing swords, we became close friends.
However, the innate pride makes us all face each other. They do not rely on each other.
Deep in our hearts, we actually have a common destination, loneliness and solitude.