In the first year of Xiangfu in the Song Dynasty, it was Bingwu in the first month.
In the Imperial City of Bianjing, the dripping sound of Si Tianjian's copper kettle was particularly clear in the middle of the night. Supervisor Chu Yan stood on the stargazing platform, his purple robe rustling in the biting night wind. He had not closed his eyes for seven consecutive days, and his eyes were bloodshot, but he still stared at the northern sky.
