The wind in the year 2187 of the New Calendar was wrapped in the radiation dust drifting from the depths of the palace ruins. When it blew over Xu Nian's face, it felt as rough as sandpaper. He squatted next to a broken white marble railing, and his fingertips rubbed the vague dragon pattern on the railing - this was the remnant of the old palace, but now it has become one of the most dangerous areas in the radiation wasteland. Under the railing, the makeshift tea stall canvas was blown by the wind, and the edges of the canvas were frayed, revealing the yellowing cotton wool inside, which was very similar to his current ruined life.
