The Adam's apple danced in the mirror, and the vocal cords sang on the beam. When all the severed truths of a dynasty begin to resonate, silence becomes the most deafening judgment. On the night when the new emperor ascended the throne, the mute mirror in the cold palace reflected the beams and pillars of the Imperial Ancestral Temple - what hung there were not dragon-veined artifacts, but the sins that the emperors of the past generations did not dare to speak of. The speechless old eunuch, the female official who pursues the truth, the empress dowager who is deeply involved in machinations, and the struggling new emperor are forced to face a choice under the reflection of the dumb mirror: Should they cover the throat of history and maintain the decaying stability, or listen to the singing in the sky and find a way to cleanse and rebirth the dynasty's sins in the backlash?
