Daxing City lay under a bitter, murderous chill. In the Zichen Hall, the dragon's-breath incense smoldered in a bronze crane burner, but its fragrance could not dispel the heavy stillness in the air. Emperor Wen of Sui, Yang Jian, sat on the throne. More white had crept into his temples since last year. The eyes that had once pacified north and south and unified the realm now rested on a memorial at the foot of the steps, his brows furrowed into a deep crease.
