It tells an ordinary story composed of extraordinary people. It is said to be ordinary because what never changes in the cycle of centuries is rights and desires. No matter how vigorous and thrilling it is, it eventually falls into the cliché. Friendship, family, and love cannot escape the tragedy of being swallowed up by power. Just like people continue to interpret war, what I want to tell is the poison of power on human nature. What I want to see is who wins in that historical battle! Even if he has the all-powerful power and directs the country, he is only half a roll of green bamboo and half a wall of meritorious deeds.
This is a intertwined history, a fragment that has been forgotten by people in the world of mortals. This is an era when mountains, heroes, and beauties were photographed all over the railings of Wu Gou Bay. When the horse and the road are carried together, the snow felt hand in hand no longer exists; when the dragon controls the ministers and points the country, my heart and mind are chilled. What is gained and what is lost?
Someone once asked her, "What do the palaces and pavilions look like to you?" She replied, "Toward the supreme power."
A few years later, when she looked back at the palace hall where the lights were flickering and the afterimages were everywhere, he suddenly understood
This is a glorious tomb
Memories are frozen into ice, does the purple blood still have lingering feelings?
Thoughts have dried up and become a river. Is the blue sky still vast?
The dream is broken into gravel, is the white snow flying all over the sky benevolently?
We were all still young at that time, and we still had innocence, and we didn't know how to be restrained and forbearing. We still had fantasies and longings. We didn't understand them yet, and we didn't want to understand them. Unfortunately, the strings were broken and the tears were deep, the song fell apart, and only you knew what you had lost...