Perhaps it had simply been a circle, duplicated over and over again in people’s minds, continued down generations.

Thirty years later, Wen Kexing had come to grab onto a tiny hint, set to task, and then turn everything onto its head.

But, that was all in the past… in the afternoon of some random day, Ye Baiyi, who had just finished the last mouthful of his broth in a tiny tavern, suddenly had an apathetic thought; those alive, and those dead, were all in the past.

Those situated inside the playing field each had their respective griefs, like him, like Madam Rong, like Wen Kexing, like Zhou Zishu, like Zhao Jing, and even like Gu Xiang and Cao Weining. They all had attempted to ‘jump out’.

Ye Baiyi had wanted to jump out of that curse of being one with the Heavens. Madam Rong had wanted to jump out of the iceland that was Changming. Wen Kexing had wanted to jump out of being an evil spirit and return to the human world. Zhou Zishu had wanted to jump out of Tian Chuang and be free. Zhao Jing had wanted to jump out of the rules of all of jianghu, look down upon everyone from up on high, and grasp the universe in his hand. Gu Xiang and Cao Weining had wanted to jump out of the world’s deep-seated prejudices to be together, standing alone as they cast everything away.

They conflicted, contested, schemed to exhaustion, and risked their lives.

Just like an abyss, some jumped over and got out, while some didn’t make it, falling to their deaths.

And, that abyss had a name. It was… jianghu.