Eighty thousand miles of ink territory, one hundred thousand years of strife
A song of konghou rises from the top of the imperial city, and the wind and clouds rise in the vast land hundreds of thousands of miles away.
A small boat with a leaf, a hundred miles of broken gorge. The divine blood flows among the noble people as well as the treacherous ones. The ink-colored realm that has been lost for a hundred thousand years is about to move underground, and the intricate gray clouds have already rolled over the cracked earth gorge.
Intention: no other