When the tortoise shell on Yu Ji's fingertips fell to the ground, cracks spread like a spider web across the word "Han"; when Zuo Ci pulled out the anomaly named Wang Mang from the rift in time and space, Nan Hua had planted the seeds of Taiping Road in Julu. Two hundred years have passed since the dice rolled in the four-way gambling game. This time, Qingxuan brushed off the dust on the bronze mirror, and six figures who did not belong to this world were reflected in the mirror. They carried memories from the future and fell into the bloody dusk of the Ling Emperor's seven years. The wind at the head of Guangling City was carrying the yellow scarf flag, hitting the turning point of fate.
