A Ride on Zhu Yin Dyes the Ink Sky

It was as bright as the moon, and the sky was as empty as a mirror. A sword pierced straight into the lake water, disturbing the shadow of the bright moon, and affecting the darkness flowing quietly under every squinted eyelid in the middle of the night. Thus, light and shadow were connected under the crackling clang of Zhu Yin, and the blackness was still flowing, flowing to the shadow made of ink, and the moon illuminated by the shadow... A sword stirred up the world? Wrapped up by the undercurrent... It was just an iron block that was hammered a few times by the blacksmith, thrown into the water, scalded with steam, and came to the rivers and lakes...