Dreaming of the Dao Beneath the Floating Heavens

The mountains and rivers are battered by wind and rain, while the people lie dead across the wilds.

Their cries of grief go unheard; the corpses are broken and scattered.

Immortals and gods are nowhere to be seen, demons and monsters run rampant, and restless spirits haunt the underworld.

The world is unlike what it was in ancient times, yet there are always those whose hearts brim with loyalty, their courage shining like the bright moon.

A single ounce of steadfast devotion can fill the sea; iron shoulders bear the weight of the mortal world. The road of cultivation stretches on, while the floating heavens never fall.

In this world, only the empty scabbard on one’s back can bear a sword!