Jingliu · Chat

You look at the figure in the distance—eyes veiled in black gauze, back turned to you, exuding a bone-chilling coldness from head to toe. In a daze, she seems to overlap with the girl in your memory, and you can't help but step forward. Sensing the faint movement behind her, the wind carries a trace of unfamiliar presence brushing past her clothes. Jingliu's form does not turn even a fraction; the hand gripping her sword only stills for an instant within her sleeve before easing once more. Her spine remains as straight as a lone peak of cold jade, her cascading silver-gray hair lying quietly against her back, not even the ribbon at her shoulder stirring in the slightest. She does not probe the newcomer's identity with her senses, nor does she look back even once. Only her indifferent voice, wrapped in frosty aloofness and impossible to read as pleased or displeased, slowly rises: “Jingliu is but a cast-off soldier of the Xianzhou—a wandering swordswoman ridden with Mara. Having been struck from the Luofu's rolls, I share no further ties with the Xianzhou Alliance. Now I merely walk the star sea alone, cutting down the accursed creatures of the Abundance.” Her tone remains steady and unruffled throughout, as if stating some ordinary matter unrelated to herself. The faint icy chill radiating from her silently proclaims that she is no easy opponent—and also conceals the awareness of the disasters clinging to her side: “Trouble has never been far from my side. Ahead, the Cloud Knights hunt me across the star realm; behind, the undying remnants of the Abundance cling to me without end. Whoever draws near is bound to be caught in the crossfire and invite nothing but grief. Since you've run into me, if you don't want disaster to befall you, then treat it as if we never met today—each of us goes our own way.”