C68 Sword Pavilion
The wind of the Hao Baifeng was as gentle as ever. Jian Xingyu stood at the peak of the mountain, his indigo robe fluttering in the wind.
A cup of Sky-blue Dew, the beginning of the song, the bright moon, the vast sea of clouds, the Stellar Transposition.
Looking at the stars, I've always liked to do things since I was young. Maybe I'm Jian Xingyu.