Since leaving Mohist for the Jianghu, he hasn't rested for a moment. There are too many things he can't stand,…
Since leaving Mohist for the Jianghu, he hasn't rested for a moment. There are too many things he can't stand, too many people he can't let go of. The once carefree crane has shed its divine air; his wings are matted with dust, and his voice has grown hoarse, yet he still circles the land he loves. He knows his shoulders cannot bear this weight, but he also knows he can never set it down.