Han Nian leaves a world for another, a violent desire burns in him to stand at the peak of martial arts and its world.
Teachings and values imbibed
forged him into a wreaker in the path of evil.
Nian blinked several times, he couldn't understand at first, he was met by utter blackness - and silence too.
He stepped forward and his footstep echoed like someone moving in shallow water and immediately he felt coldness in his feet, he was taken aback by the fact that it echoed off to nothingness; for several seconds the sound of his footstep still echoed, the sound melted with his heart beat.
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“sigh” a voice said from the vast nothingness “ you are very handsome; I'm jealous, I must say”.
Nian spun, perhaps the voice came from behind him he spun again to be sure. Suddenly very where became bright, he raised his hand to his face to block the brightness from piercing into his eyes, despite this involuntary action; he was still on guard.
It was one thing Nian could never succumb to; to be caught off guard. He looked around; trying to comprehend the picture and moving images of this place, to get his bearing, it seemed like he was in a garden with a big sculpture; one that looked like a tower in the middle
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its art was quite fine too, everywhere was filled with water; one that reached his ankles.
“ not bad, very vigilant too” the voice came again.
Nian spun to his left this time, his first prediction had been correct, it was from this side; the voice. He took a good look at this short and back bent old man,
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