流水迢迢

Pei Yan: A true, heroic man, filled with passion and vigour. Upon his waist is his long sword, while from his hand comes forth poetries and scrolls. Time and again his sword’s blade has been tested, but who possibly could be a worthy match? When love very furtively arrives, he can use only pride as his shield of resistance. But though he may have calculated out every move, every possibility, the sole things he forgets to factor in are his own heart and his own feelings. The wind and smoke may have passed, but seared over his heart is the most beautiful mark.

San Lang: A blood-soaked phoenix, a precious pearl covered in dust. What sort of heart is hidden beneath his devastatingly beautiful face? When sunlight manages to at last shine into his heart, and when the door of his heart opens by a thread, like water that has spilled to the ground, these cannot be undone. Unforgettable is that brilliance he saw during the season when the peach blossoms bloomed, that seemed to burn his eyes, and even more unforgettable is that single unrivallable song that had been sung out upon that snowy bridge over the frozen river.

Xiao Ci [Little Ci]: Lithe like the waves, pure and attractive like the lotus. She is like a fairy of the mountains who flutters her wings, stirring up the most perfect storm within their worlds. She warmed those icy fingers, she embroidered that one twig of peach blossoms. In this complicated society of worldly affairs, a single statement of “understanding” [being understood, being told you are understood] is worth more than a thousand words.

Who shall win, and who shall lose? Who has lost, and who has gained? Who achieved, and who had to sacrifice? None of these are important. This story of legends will one day, when one has seen past the surrounding scenery, become one with the indistinct green, rolling hills and the forever flowing waters.