The night is like ink, filling the sky of Luoyang.
The heavy city gate opened and made a heart-wrenching creaking sound.
Dong Zhuo's army poured into this century-old imperial capital like a black tide.
The iron hoofs broke the silence of the long street, and the sound of horse hooves was as dense as rain, shaking everyone's heart.
The murderous aura condensed into a substantial chill and rushed toward his face.
Deep in the palace, the young emperor Liu Bian's face was pale, and his thin body was shivering in his wide dragon robe.
"Queen Mother... Queen Mother..."
He could only call helplessly to the woman beside him.
