When the floods of the Yellow River swept away the people, I grabbed a piece of the cold dragon bone.
The dragon bone lines penetrated into my flesh and blood, and the years have solidified on my body since then.
I watched helplessly as my beloved Lei withered in the Kala-azard disease, and watched as Dayu's ten years of water control finally turned into another keel.
In the Yin Shang market, the bronze mirror reflected my young face and old eyes, and the gluttonous patterns in the mirror screamed the question of heaven.
The morning bell of the Western Zhou Dynasty rang. I held the jade pendant with the river pattern on my chest and finally understood:
The so-called eternity is just a long sentence of watching all the glory turn to dust.
