Do Not Sweep Red

About This Novel

I passed through the mist of thousands of years, Bathed in the wind of the prosperous Tang Dynasty. Look at the fireworks from all nations coming to court, So colorful. The six armies remained solemn and silent, There is the pain of cutting off a loved one. A man whose soul is immortal, Never belonged to the deep palace. As time goes by, the country is no longer in my hands, The green leaves planted by you and me are red. People with gray hair never sweep away their red hair. Later generations left it, "Inscribed on Xuanzong in the Western Palace". Look, the autumn leaves are falling and the dew is strong, and the moonlight in Chang'an is different from the ancient times. Listen, the jingling strings of the Jinse are clear, and how many concubines are standing in the cold wind. Welcome, little baby, welcome to No Sweeping Red. This is the era of our prosperous Tang Dynasty.

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