He transmigrates into a full-grown cheetah that can run like the wind, and to top it off, it has pink skin!
If what our hearts yearn for is nothing more than a system laid down by others, is it still worth pursuing?
If flowers blooming and falling are nothing more than Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly, do they still have value?
If everything ends with an "if," what is there worth remembering?
If meaning itself has no meaning, then what are all living beings?
With the bright moon high overhead and the night breeze drifting by, he gazes up at the vast sea of stars and asks himself:
Who am I?
Where did I come from?
Where am I going?
My sword: the breeze is light and the clouds are calm, yet I fear neither heaven nor earth, nor the myriad worlds.
My sword: I dance wildly in the rain, caring neither for right nor wrong, black nor white.
My sword: I yearn and yearn, wanting neither love nor hate, neither joy nor sorrow.
My sword: I come from the east, breaking through the countless paths of the Great Dao, or perhaps not.
I seek the wind, the rain, you, the sword.
When my sword is drawn, the vast stars all fall, and the years vanish in an instant.
My sword is called Cosmic Edge!!!
