The Sword Shines in the Wind

Duanyue Jianlu is located at the east foot of Canglang Ridge, relying on a spiritual vein that is about to dry up, and can barely support around 300 people. Cen Ye started training at the age of twelve, with both wood and fire spiritual roots, and average to low qualifications. While others would practice sword fighting for three months, they would switch to new moves. He had practiced the basic four moves for three years. Others make progress one foot every day, and he makes progress one inch every day. But every inch counts. There is a bronze seal on his chest. Left behind by my mother. Fire cannot burn it, acid bubbles cannot melt it, and spiritual energy cannot be injected into it. The old blacksmith said: This thing is not copper, nor is it anything I recognize. He doesn't care. Whether it is useful or not, I will wear it. Just like the family tradition of Duanyue Jianlu for 143 years - whether it is useful or not, it will not be thrown away. This is the story of a small sect disciple who walked out of the Eastern Wasteland with one sword and one sword. There is no such thing as a one-step adventure. There is no Chosen One playbook. Some are just the fateful friendship between the brothers, the entanglements in the world, and the obsession that persists in desperate situations again and again. Get knocked down, stand up. Get knocked down again and stand up again. Slow-burn novel. The group is like a river and lake. Brotherly loyalty. Not retreating is the way.