The Sound of The Sword Pavilion's Bells

"Time flies as swift as an arrow, yet who knows that the Heavenly Dao is as curved as a bow?"

The life of Zhou Man was a bitter struggle. She sought completion but found only loss. She thought she had defied fate and attained the Great Dao, ascending as the Sovereign of Qizhou—only to be besieged by a thousand sects on the day of her coronation. She perished atop the Jade Emperor’s Peak, her ambitions turning to ash.

The past dissolves like a fading dream, and she wakes to the world of her youth... Once more, the distant chime of golden bells echoes above the Sword Pavilion; in the White Emperor City, the Goddess’s mournful song still hangs in the air.

In that year, in a thatched hut at the foot of the mountain, her frail mother—desperate to stop her daughter from ever touching a blade—raised a rusted cleaver and severed Zhou Man’s pinky finger. Sixteen-year-old Zhou Man, clutching her bleeding hand, sat beneath the eaves and listened to the rain all night long.

— Given a second chance, how will you live? — I will live however I please, without regret.