When the Korean palace was mixed with blood and burned into a pool of ashes, the night was still young, and the fire was as red as red blood. It kept flowing in the endless tears, and kept flowing. "This dirty Korea, our Korea, will no longer exist from now on." He said this in a tone of voice. Qi, with a sarcastic smile, the blood-stained gauze steaming up in the cold wind, the firelight flickering, yes, everything in the Han Palace, the cherry tree in full bloom, the heavy snow in Weiyang, including this brief dream-like memory, will no longer exist from now on.