He is trapped on the dragon's throne, he is in power at the edge of the blade.
In the third year of Jinghe, the young emperor Zhao Heng had been on the throne for three years, and all decisions in the court were decided by the regent Xiao Chezhu Pi. One is an emperor who is unwilling to be a puppet and has been a silent dragon for three years in the morning bells and evening drums; the other is a powerful official who bears a blood feud and hangs all his loyalty and calculations on the hilt of the sword at his waist. They are kings and ministers in name, but enemies in their hearts.
Floods in the south of the Yangtze River, palace assassinations, and autumn frightened horses. Behind every seemingly ordinary disturbance, there is a silent game. Zhao Heng thought he was waiting for a chance to regain power, but when he got closer to Xiao Che step by step, he realized that it was never the regent's sword that imprisoned him, but the unspeakable trust that started from unknown time and could not be overcome or let go.
Beidi cavalry knocked on the edge, and southern Xinjiang was at war. When the country and the person behind him became entities that must be protected at the same time, the clear line between the monarch and his ministers was finally broken. The empire was swaying in the wind and rain, and two people trapped in fate stood side by side on the tower, only to realize that from suspicion to symbiosis, they had never only wanted to win in this world.
Four million words stretch, a volume of the growth history of an emperor, and an alliance between two heroes. People's hearts can be seen in the grand scheme of things, and there is sincerity beneath the machinations.
