In the Li-Tang era, in Chang'an, a small academy gathered the essence of Confucianism and stood as an equal to Buddhism and Daoism. But with no sage to lead it for a long time, Confucianism suffered a shortage of successors and gradually fell into decline. Far away, a game of chess was underway. If the players entered the board themselves, could they calculate right and wrong, cause and effect? In Chang'an, a lazy young man lay hidden like a dragon in the depths. After enduring trial upon trial, could he soar to the heavens and make the city hear the hymns of sages once more?
The affairs of state and the lives of its people follow their own course; ancient rivers flow on, their waters surging.
Through endless tumult, the true Dao lies concealed. Who can know where it leads?
In the mortal world, we write the chapters of our lives; in our fate, we seek a dream that may never come.
Do not mock these seemingly heartless things. You know not the feelings hidden within.
