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?

Watching the man casually play with the Fish Intestine Sword across from her, the plump woman who had been holding a sword almost felt her whole body turn ice-cold in an instant, her expression filled with terror.


She hadn't noticed even the slightest hint of anything amiss.


And no matter when it happened, it always represented an absolutely overwhelming movement technique.


The Sword Master of the Fish Intestine Sword bit her teeth hard; a very strong desire to retreat flashed through her mind, but with the Fish Intestine Sword still in Hong Luoyu's hands, she absolutely could not retreat — to advance meant death, and to retreat was also to face death, perhaps even a fate worse than death.


Thinking of the consequences of losing this sword made the woman shudder even more.


Chapter 185: The Swan Flies in the Wilderness, Only to See Feathers Falling Under the Sky (1/2) (3500 words)