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墨書 Inktalez
Inside the mansion, a magnificent scene unfolds. A small lake shimmers with emerald green ripples, where goldfish play and ladies laugh under the willow trees. The blooming lotus flowers by the lakeside add a touch of elegance, and their reflection on the water creates an enchanting, dreamlike atmosphere.
A swordsman strolls leisurely by the lake, his eyes seemingly concealing a profound loneliness. His countenance is lazy, draped in a gray robe that billows in the gentle breeze. Yet, upon closer inspection, one can still discern a sharp glint in his eyes.
"Uncle, why are you so melancholic today?" asked the young girl, a girl of about ten years old, running up to the mansion master. She held a string of candied haws in her hands, her face showing pure curiosity. Her eyes sparkled like stars, and the silver ornaments on her head glinted in the sunlight.
The swordsman lowered his gaze to her and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Perhaps it's just the intoxication of seeing the starlight at night," he replied.
"starlight?" The little girl paused for a moment and said with a smile, "Uncle, you really are a poet!" Then she asked another question, "Uncle, why has your sword never been drawn?"
The swordsman gently stroked the little girl's hair, but felt a growing sense of unease in his heart. This question reminded him of the days when he never had the opportunity to wield his sword again. After a moment of silence, he replied, "A sword is for protection, not for harm."
Night falls, and the mansion is quiet. The household servants of the high-ranking officials have all retired, leaving only the swordsmen to patrol the mansion. Bathed in moonlight, the silhouette of the swordsman stretches long across the ground. The sound of crickets is particularly loud in the still night, as if it were an omen for the night.
In a corner, two cold and indifferent gazes silently fixate on the swordsman's figure. They are the eyes of the East Asian ninjas, cold and merciless, waiting for their prey like night cats.
The swordsman may be lazy, but his intuition is very sharp. He stopped in his tracks, gazing at the small lake in the courtyard, feeling a hint of something unusual. His reflection was clear on the surface of the lake, a swordsman who once flourished but now had retreated from the martial world. The ancient stone lanterns in the courtyard emitted a faint blue light under the moon, casting the swordsman's lonely figure.
As the night deepened, his heart began to beat faster, an unprecedented intuition alerting him to the presence of deathly aura within the mansion on this night.
He didn't know, perhaps this would be the last time he patrolled the mansion in his life. He also didn't know, the shadow behind him was closing in.
But he knew, the sword intent in his heart had not dissipated. In this quiet night, his sword intent gradually awakened, waiting for a battle that had long been destined.
The night at the mansion was so deep that it felt suffocating. The moonlight was bright, but it seemed to also hold a hint of indifference. The swordsman's intuition told him that tonight, swords and shadows would intertwine.
He tightened his grip on the sword hilt again, but in his heart, a quiet surge of inexplicable emotion was rising.
Will the sun rise tomorrow?
Everything can only wait for the arrival of dawn.
.
.
.
The night grew deeper, and the mansion was quiet. The little girl had already fallen asleep, smiling sweetly in her dreams. high-ranking officials were in the study, flipping through old documents, as if time had stood still in that moment.
The footsteps of the swordsman echoed crisply and evenly on the stone path in the courtyard. Each step seemed to strike a chord in his heart, and each echo reminded him that perhaps a fateful showdown awaited him ahead. He reached the edge of a small lake and looked down at his reflection. The once handsome face now bore a hint of sorrow, and the once gallant swordsman seemed to have been forgotten by time.
A cool breeze blew through, dispersing the reflection on the lake surface and also scattering the swordsman's contemplation.
He looked up, gazing at the distant moon, feeling a growing sense of alertness in his heart. He knew that this night was not going to be peaceful, perhaps destined to determine his fate.
And at that moment, in another corner of the courtyard, the eyes of the ninjas gradually became sharp. They knew that the time had come, and everything was ready. Their target was right in front of them.
The swordsman also sensed the approaching danger, gripping the hilt of his sword, waiting for that moment to arrive.
The night at the mansion is so quiet, so deep, as if hiding endless secrets. Everything is in this silence, waiting to erupt.
The moonlight is still bright, the stars shimmer with a mysterious light, and the earth is immersed in a peaceful silence.
But this tranquility is about to be shattered.
On this night, the intertwining of Sword and Shadow is about to begin. The beginning and the end of everything will be revealed on this night.
The swordsman stood at the center of it all, waiting for his battle. His heartbeat quickened, his blood boiled, and it seemed as if the sword energy throughout his body was awakening at that moment.
He knows...
His sword is about to be unsheathed once again.
His battle is about to begin.
His destiny is about to arrive.
Everything is waiting for the arrival of dawn in this silent night. Everything is waiting for the intertwining of Sword and Shadow in this mysterious night.
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