The emperor was like a mighty lion, commanding the realm and renowned for his wisdom through the ages.
That was what everyone said.
Whether in Chang'an, wreathed in purple clouds, or on the distant *plains, common laborers, slaves, and nobles alike revered the aged emperor in the capital.
In Chang'an, the imperial capital, the bustle of its thirteen wards, the fragrance of aged wine in taverns, and the alluring glances of women in brothels bewitched every young person who came from the countryside.
Yet there were always people secretly preparing their blades, planning to seize the throne beneath the lion once it grew old.
Hidden in imperial edicts, at court, and within the inner palace, there was more than desire and ambition. There was scorching blood, flowing in chests or spurting from wounds.
Almost at the same time, as the story began...
The ancient road was as it had always been. A carriage left Chang'an and headed for the vast *plains, carrying the Han court's orders to meet an unknown fate.
Those bitter wines and blood-darkened swords would be the last struggle of several young people.
This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.
