Xuan Jian Yi Zhi

That night, the fire in the Lin family mansion burned half of the mountain's sky red. Fifteen-year-old Lin Feng dragged his sister Lin Xue out of the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​fire. He thought he had escaped, but instead he plunged into deeper darkness. The wind carried the smell of blood past his ears, and the only thing left in Lin Feng's pupils was the direction in which his sister disappeared. He chased, like a young animal whose heart had been gouged out, tirelessly and without regard for life or death. Until the mysterious sword jumped into his hand from the cliff, the cold sword body felt hot in his palm, and a mysterious power grew wildly along his blood. It was the fire of revenge and the obsession to find his relatives. From then on, there was one less ignorant child in the world, and one more lonely figure holding a sword.