Yan ZK

Jianghu was in turmoil, an era of great strife.
The leader of Great Qin wielded the Mo Blade, leaving the world battered and bruised. The ageless figures of Jianghu crouched upon the mountains, and with a single turn, they cast the entire world below them.
Strong men measured the earth with their feet, and heroes of Jianghu could cleave the heavens with one sword, yet in the blink of an eye, they were drunk in the embrace of beauties.
The Taoist carried his sword, the Scholar drunk on wine.
Wearing tattered clothes, a beggar grasped a rotten branch and dared to storm the ancestral hall of the Taoist Sect. On the willow-lined causeway, in the long pavilion, a man who had sat withered for thirty years turned and stepped out, holding a peach blossom, with a flick of his wrist, he shattered ten miles of red candles.
The era of Great Qin was renamed the Great Yuan Era.
The youth with the Wooden Sword left his mountain village behind.
(Solo female lead)

Why do I have so many masters?

Not far ahead was the courtyard where Jiu Zizai lived in seclusion, where one could vaguely see the stacks of wine jars piled up on one side of the courtyard and a large, broad training ground.


On one side of the training ground, there stood a rack with all the common weapons found in Jianghu.


Taishu Jian reined in the carriage, his eyes fixed intently ahead, holding the longsword that had accompanied him throughout his life in his hand, his thumb against the hilt, unconsciously unsheathed by an inch.


Yuchi Jie's family guard spurred his horse forward, blocking in front of Yuchi Jie.


Between the crowd and the courtyard stood a towering man, at least nine feet tall, clad in iron armor with his face covered, but with his arms bare, his hands resting on the hilt of his sword, silent and statue-like.


182