Prisoner of the Emperor

The four seasons are constantly alternating, and those ancient city walls that have been engraved on this continent, always showing the traces of time, are now increasingly showing an indescribable and profound sign of decadence. In winter, the snow and scarlet flowers fall off the roof tiles, and in spring, the warm sunshine is just around the corner. The footsteps of spring are getting closer and closer, just like the solitary sorrow under the afterglow of dusk, the endless spring rain, the remaining moistening things silently, the mist lingering in the clouds, the aura of awe that belongs to heaven and earth under the gathering of all things in the world. You know, the phenomena in the world are just like this. And the myriad phenomena in the world are not the signs of Dao marks that are slowly revealed. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.