Li Xian drew his longbow as if to shoot at the heavens. Though the string held no arrow, his intent soared high. Suddenly, clouds gathered at the horizon, dark and heavy, shrouding the sun. Long had Li Xian's hand missed the bow, and his heart swelled with excitement. Filled with disdain for all, on a whim, he drew the bow into a perfect arc, focusing his gaze as if aiming beyond the clouds. Though no arrow was loosed, his intent pierced through, and in the clouds appeared a sudden opening, a shaft of sunlight pouring onto the streets.
Li Xian gently stroked the Silver Bow, the chill seeping into his bones, as if holding ice. The bow quivered slightly. Though it had no spirit, in the hands of a good master, it absorbed his intent, gradually becoming extraordinary!
