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He thought of the mountain rain and fog ghosts of the Jinyang Road, the rock carvings and twilight on the cliffs, the first sight of Yidu City, the singing and dancing in the little courtyard, the upright constable across the street, and the prefect in the goulan washe feigning chance encounters to inquire about the secret of longevity.
Who at the time could have imagined that the constable would follow in Duke of Thunder Zhou’s footsteps, or that the prefect would become a wise prime minister and a lord of the underworld?
At Liujiang in Xuzhou, a small boat drifted for days through a thousand-li painted landscape.
At Lingbo, a woman of the jianghu who kept her word greeted him for the first time with cupped hands, “As a jianghu person, I’ll introduce myself first. My surname is Wu, and my name is Suowei. I am a disciple of the Xishan Sect in Yizhou. How do I address you?”
Anqing, in the misty rain, was still a wonder of the world. The Great Liujiang Gathering lived up to its reputation as a grand event of the jianghu. The figures of martial artists moving like dancers or in combat still appeared before his eyes, as vivid as his encounters with the old Swallow Immortal and young Swallow Immortal, which seemed like yesterday.
A chance meeting with a peerless swordsman in a mortuary, a visit to the inherent Mountain God deep in the mountains… The memory that left the deepest impression was still the mountains covered with lily magnolias.
At Southern Art County, night rains lingered; atop Yunding Mountain, people comprehend the Dao and sought immortality
By the shores of Mirror Island Lake, he first met Duke of Thunder...
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