The bright moon did not shine upon River Viewing Terrace alone.
Divine Continent was still, the East Sea calm; across the entire Present World, day had turned to night. No clouds, no haze, no stars.
Within the boundless, vast, clear night sky, neither wind nor rain came. There was only a single bright moon.
There was no one in the world who did not gaze upon the moon!
Within that immortal moon that had reflected upon all ages, there seemed to be a human silhouette. Mortals who saw it would be moved to thought, and in their thoughts perhaps forget. These countless feelings of having lost something would become legends upon legends of the bright moon.
But those divine and enlightened could sense it—
The sound of sword-song was music, and the lone shadow within the moon moved with its melody.
That figure held a wine jug upside down and plucked at a Flying Sword with one finger. It seemed to take the bright moon as a screen, leaving behind for the human world the swaying reflection of a drunken man—yet one so wildly arrogant and unrestrained.
Like the murmurings of more than three thousand years ago, wine stored in Chen had passed through countless silent nights, until at last it echoed within the bright moon and was heard by all.
"I once shattered a jade disk for love; one sound exchanged for one play."
"Yet even now, I cannot leave."
"I once slept drunkenly upon the Heavenly River; one night stars came, one night snow."
"Awakening, I found myself clad in moonlight."
"What is the purpose of a life spanning a thousand autumns?"
"Drunkenness, perhaps. In a blurred glance, the kings and lords of the human world, the immortal palaces in heaven, the myriad generations of spring and autumn,