When the March wind blows, the lush crimson color is boundless and spreads to the sky. The huge palace with eaves like a ridge sits in such a dignified posture, taking in the spring scenery of the city, echoing the occasional tall pagoda.
Tokyo, the capital, is a blur of majesty, from the fourth year of Taiping Xingguo to the eleventh year of Linde, from Geshu Ziye's success as a general, to the loss of his wings, from dedicating his life to serving people with sex... Even in the end, all the mechanisms are exhausted...
It never teaches people how many beautiful buildings, carved beams and painted buildings, how many bright spring clothes, dancing clothes and singing fans.