Jiwei year, summer, 7th day, sunny.
Su Zhenyi said he was a Bladesman.
A Bladesman's blade is always cleaner than an Assassin's blade.
Nie Chenxiang asked him the name of his blade. Su Zhenyi had never thought this blade would have a name.
Assassins should not have names, nor should their blades.
Yet, it seems assassins also shouldn't traverse mountains and waters,
nor linger in brothels, just to hear Nie Chenxiang say, "The wind lotus is perfect."
His right shoulder suddenly relaxed. Nie Chenxiang rubbed her eyes and rose, murmuring, "I just dreamed of a poem: 'A blade cannot settle matters, the moon crosses but does not return.' How about naming this blade 'Moon Slash'?"
Su Zhenyi lowered his gaze, meeting a pair of smiling eyes.
The songstress at Spring Breeze Pavilion sang a tune, melodious and hazy, like admiration and lament:
"I have fine wine, accompanied by clear melodies, wishing to reward confidants, wishing to celebrate good times..."
Nie Chenxiang continued the lyrics, humming: "
Leisurely drinking new brew, frequently dreaming of old friends, seeing flowers and the moon, yet not seeing you."
Su Zhenyi gazed afar, seeing only endless skies and half a lake of bright moonlight.