With Sword in Hand, Toward the Heavens

I learned the wondrous arts of immortality late, and returned to the valley beneath the white clouds too soon.

Immortals from all directions come to pay their respects, yet the foremost among them never returns from the mortal world.

Poetry, wine, and tea; sword and flower.

When fate brings its tribulation, the road beneath the vaulting sky divides.

People surge in from every direction, as a three-foot blade lies cold beneath a frost of steel.

A killer who takes lives, a blade that grinds bones.

My name is Wu Liang. Liang, as in kind. I’m a swordsman! When someone must die, I kill!