In the sixteenth year of the Apocalypse, just after the frost, the first snow fell in Chang'an City.
Lu Chenzhou stood on the highest eaves of Xingqing Palace, looking down at the imperial city that he had guarded for eleven years. The snow fell silently, dyeing thousands of palaces into a piece of pure white. His white hair is whiter than snow, and his eyes are deeper than night. The sleeves of the robe were blown by the north wind, but the sword at the waist did not move at all.
Purpose: Resist the shackles of fate, break away from the fate of being a chess piece of machinations, stick to your true heart and true feelings, and find freedom and redemption in the ordinary.