It was a bitterly cold winter.
The winter in Chang'an always makes people feel happy, and the snow in Chang'an is always so crystal clear and beautiful.
I tied up my clothes, packed them up, picked up the sword my master had given me, and carried my luggage.
Well, where I have practiced for ten years, now I am about to set off, shouldering the mission of the master and the high expectations of the master. I still remember the look on my master's face when he handed me the sword. His always firm eyes flickered, and he hesitated again and again, but finally said nothing.
I really didn't ask anything.
In the past ten years, I have concentrated on practicing and have never gone down the mountain. I have never seen the brothers and sisters who performed this task in the past. I always feel that Shuangyue Valley and his party are very dangerous and dangerous. Before that, I had always had a long-cherished wish in my heart, that is, to see the world with my own eyes.
The idea of traveling around the world became more and more intense, which made me unconsciously regard my master's life as less urgent.
It's just that many years later, sometimes I regret this decision. If only I had honestly carried out the mission and died.
The sect master of Frost Moon Valley, no one has ever defeated him. I think I am no exception.
If he died like that, it would be a relief.