The cold moon is desolate, only the night wind blows through the crows, leaving only a desolate place so late at night, there shouldn't be anyone on the top of the barren mountain, but at this moment, a young man sat next to a dead tree with a drunken face, and a sword hanging on his waist. He was supposed to be a young hero with a high spirit, but his face was haggard and his eyes were dull, but his beauty looked like a bride, but he had no chance to see the red candle, but his sweetheart was betrayed for life, and his confrontation with his master was expelled from the wall. At this result, he smiled bitterly, and became the only brush he could do. He drew his sword in his hand, dancing on the top of the mountain like crazy