An exotic sword with one section of the blade left blunt. It made its way into Liyue via the hands of foreign traders. Incredibly powerful in the hands of someone who knows how to use it.
The whole world flocks to the commercial port of Liyue, much to the city's pride.
With the tides of people also come exotic treasure.
This greatsword is expertly made with the finest materials. It is unique in that the edge closest to the wielder has been left dull. The dull edge is said to have been used as the hilt, enabling the wielder to switch forms by constantly shifting hand positions in combat.
Though it is rarely acknowledged, this greatsword was in fact a foreign bladesmith's labor of love.
The bladesmith knew himself to be dull of wits, and was anxious that this blade should not follow suit. Hence, he worked painstakingly on sharpening and balancing his beloved blade. Sparks flew as the bladesmith worked through many sleepless nights.
The sword was recast and re-tempered countless times. All the while his mind was consumed with the hope of his lover's return, as well as his untold anxiety for her wellbeing.
"After the war is over..."
The bladesmith would ponder briefly, each time he paused for breath.
"Will this blade still be of use to her?"
"Will she even make it home safely?"
These thoughts would linger in his mind for but a moment before he cast them aside and refocused his full attention on the blade. Indulging irresolvable anxieties was a futile endeavor - better to focus his faculties on creating the perfect welcome-home gift.
Finally, the day came when the triumphant expeditionary force entered the city gates, their monstrous foes defeated at last. But the bladesmith had not had time to carve his lover's name onto the blade's body.
With no time to lose, he grabbed the sword and rushed to meet his lover on the occasion of her return.
Unfortunately, what would transpire next was to be an unbearable anticlimax.
As the warrior removed her helmet, long, soft hair flowed down. She was growing her hair out, and hence would never need to wield a blade again for the rest of her days.
Meanwhile, she had brought her lover a gift, too: A shiny new hunting bow.
"Romance is dead! I wasted all these years making you this greatsword, and now you don't even need it!"
The bladesmith was thoroughly miserable and would not stop complaining about the unfairness of it all. But his efforts had by no means been in vain—at least he had finally succeeded in making a blade of the very finest quality.