In the winter of the forty-fifth year of Jiajing, the flying snow in the Forbidden City was wrapped in the incense of the alchemy room, like the last wandering soul of the empire.
"Your Majesty, it's time to enter the elixir." Huang Jin's voice was hoarse, like an old bellows.
Zhu Houcong on the dragon bed did not respond. Through the lingering green smoke, his turbid eyes seemed to see the young man who came from Huguang, Anlu and Luzhou sixty years ago. At that time, he thought he was grasping fate, but little did he know that fate had already laid out a fatal situation called "Imperial Power" for him.
He stretched out his hand tremblingly, pointed to the void, and said to Feng Bao, the eunuch of Bingbi: "I have spent all my life thinking about people's hearts, but there is one thing... A person... I still haven't figured it out. You go... Find her/it..."
Very nice to look at.