The Old Mountain Ashes

(Martial arts seems to have declined in this era, but I still think of the martial arts dreams derived from the stories of Jin Yong, Gu Long and other great gods in my childhood, so I want to write a martial arts world of my own.) The whole country was in ruins, and Kyushu was in flames. He opened his eyes since his infancy in the troubled times, but there were no ups and downs of mountains and rivers in his eyes, only the mist and rain in the south of the Yangtze River and the breeze in the peach forest. The shock of a sword caught the child's eyes, and half a lifetime passed to a corner of the paradise. The gentleness of the beauty in plain clothes, the wildness of the sword fairy in white, all rubbed into the hazy moonlight in the young man's eyes. The wind blows on the peach branches, the moon sets on the cold river, the rivers and lakes are far away, and the world is vast. With his gentle demeanor, he looks for a romantic scene amidst the light and shadow of swords, and guards the ordinary world for a lifetime.