Emperor Zang, he once worked hard to become the successor of the Daqing Dynasty, but now, he is deliberately thinking about giving it to others.
Shentu Jianming, Emperor Zang's childhood playmate, had his whole family die at the hands of Emperor Zang due to an unfortunate misunderstanding. However, he had no complaints or regrets, and still guarded Emperor Zang's side, guarded the Daqing Dynasty, and would never give up.
Duan Tianqi, a child with a blood feud, grew up in a tolerant family under the care of his enemies, just for revenge, but his biological father never gave him this chance; the only thing he fell in love with was a shark, but all he got was the fate of death.
Amber, the princess of the Shark tribe, lives as long as the heaven and the earth, and shines with the sun and the moon, but in the end she cannot escape the curse of fate and falls in love with someone who should never be loved.
Dynasties change like falling flowers and falling flowers. The white waves are rolling, and you can see many legends.
It is difficult to distinguish between good and evil, but the world is constantly changing.
Reader comments
The pit is deep. Put your hand in front of your eyes and you can see a little glimmer on the nails. Hold your breath and hear your heartbeat. So I hugged my knees tightly and sat at the bottom of the pit, looking up at a 45-degree angle to the sky. Legend has it that in this posture, you can see renewed light. Everyone is talking about the renewed light. I think it neither belongs to today nor tomorrow. It only appears at the time it should appear and stays where it should stay. In just a short moment, the weak white light warms the dark bottom of the pit and illuminates everyone's gaze. So they said legends yesterday, today, tomorrow... Legends are floating in every corner. "Are you new here?" Someone asked me. "Yes!" "You climbed down well!" I think she was praising me. I always do this, climbing from the bottom of one pit to the bottom of another pit. I am used to climbing, so I am very skilled. "Would you like to crawl out together and take a breather?" She invited me. "No, thank you!" I was tired from climbing and wanted to rest at the bottom of this pit. There are pits on the ground at any time. When you climb out, you don't know which step ahead will lead you to fall into the next pit. I looked up at her posture as she climbed out, heading towards hope step by step, and heading towards the bottom of the pit step by step. There was numbness, fatigue, and struggle. So someone goes out and someone comes in again. "Hello!" "Hello!" "Are you comfortable squatting?" "My legs are a little numb, I'll lie down later!" "Lie down slowly!" "Do you want to go out too?" "Yes, maybe there will be a new world in the next pit!" You see, people can never give up hope. So, I crawled. I crawled all over the pit. I'm still at the bottom of the hole. Crawling requires such a posture, with hands on the ground and legs kneeling on the ground. This is really not a pleasant posture, but when crawling, my eyes are infinitely close to the bottom of the pit, looking at every place over and over again, like a cow chewing its cud, chewing every word. I have forgotten the initial taste. What I am waiting for is tomorrow's food. I am a fish with my head raised, constantly devouring, never stopping, until the day when the food suffocates me to death. But what I use more is the "squatting" posture. This is a posture soaked in the blood and engraved in the bones. This is the posture in which I keep looking up. This is a 45-degree posture towards the sky. It is said that there is a creature called a bird in the sky. They come and go freely and are never restrained. Their wings are spread out and their bodies are light. I think they will definitely not be able to learn the "squat" movement. No part of their bone structure is designed for squatting. Creation is so discriminating against them that you can hardly imagine how much fun they have in living. Maybe one day, you will meet me squatting at the bottom of the pit, with my head raised to the sky, crying in the wind; maybe one day, you will meet me crawling around, with my long hair covering my face, and my nails falling off. Climbing towards you step by step, passing my hand through your black hair, passing through your network cable and my resentment, do you know who I am.
The pit is deep. Put your hand in front of your eyes and you can see a little glimmer on the nails. Hold your breath and hear your heartbeat. So I hugged my knees tightly and sat at the bottom of the pit, looking up at a 45-degree angle to the sky. Legend has it that in this posture, you can see renewed light. Everyone is talking about the renewed light. I think it neither belongs to today nor tomorrow. It only appears at the time it should appear and stays where it should stay. In just a short moment, the weak white light warms the dark bottom of the pit and illuminates everyone's gaze. So they said legends yesterday, today, tomorrow... Legends are floating in every corner. "Are you new here?" Someone asked me. "Yes!" "You climbed down well!" I think she was praising me. I always do this, climbing from the bottom of one pit to the bottom of another pit. I am used to climbing, so I am very skilled. "Would you like to crawl out together and take a breather?" She invited me. "No, thank you!" I was tired from climbing and wanted to rest at the bottom of this pit. There are pits on the ground at any time. When you climb out, you don't know which step ahead will lead you to fall into the next pit. I looked up at her posture as she climbed out, heading towards hope step by step, and heading towards the bottom of the pit step by step. There was numbness, fatigue, and struggle. So someone goes out and someone comes in again. "Hello!" "Hello!" "Are you comfortable squatting?" "My legs are a little numb, I'll lie down later!" "Lie down slowly!" "Do you want to go out too?" "Yes, maybe there will be a new world in the next pit!" You see, people can never give up hope. So, I crawled. I crawled all over the pit. I'm still at the bottom of the hole. Crawling requires such a posture, with hands on the ground and legs kneeling on the ground. This is really not a pleasant posture, but when crawling, my eyes are infinitely close to the bottom of the pit, looking at every place over and over again, like a cow chewing its cud, chewing every word. I have forgotten the initial taste. What I am waiting for is tomorrow's food. I am a fish with my head raised, constantly devouring, never stopping, until the day when the food suffocates me to death. But what I use more is the "squatting" posture. This is a posture soaked in the blood and engraved in the bones. This is the posture in which I keep looking up. This is a 45-degree posture towards the sky. It is said that there is a creature called a bird in the sky. They come and go freely and are never restrained. Their wings are spread out and their bodies are light. I think they will definitely not be able to learn the "squat" movement. No part of their bone structure is designed for squatting. Creation is so discriminating against them that you can hardly imagine how much fun they have in living. Maybe one day, you will meet me squatting at the bottom of the pit, with my head raised to the sky, crying in the wind; maybe one day, you will meet me crawling around, with my long hair covering my face, and my nails falling off. Climbing towards you step by step, passing my hand through your black hair, passing through your network cable and my resentment, do you know who I am.