Tang Xuanzong
In the twelfth year of Tianbao's reign, in late spring, Chang'an City.
Zhuque Street is the central axis of the imperial capital, running from north to south like the backbone of a giant dragon. Three poles high in the sun, Jinwu's armored soldiers patrolled with their swords drawn, their black armor and green saddles solemn and majestic, reflecting the splendor of the eaves and brackets of the palaces on both sides. The floating clouds in the sky are as light as catkins, as if there is no trace, only the locust flowers are scattered, like broken snow all over the sky, rustling down from the green tiles and red trees. That glistening white thing danced lightly, brushing through the cold tassels of the Jinwu Guard, drifting towards the dust and smoke of the crowded market, and finally fell silently on the long street paved with bluestones...
