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Snippet (1):
The man wore a dark blue solid gauze jacket, a buttoned vest with white mink fur trim, a crimson Wolong bag hanging from his waist with broken yellow tassels, and a pair of soap boots, the bottoms of which were powdered and washed until they were white; his face was pale and pale, with a pair of dark pupils, and a faint smile, but the tired look between his eyebrows could not be concealed.
Snippet (2):
The man in front of him raised one corner of his mouth and smiled self-deprecatingly.
"Wen happy? This is a name that I like, and it makes me feel comfortable. If you ask me who I am... I am the prisoner they escorted to Beijing."
This sentence is remarkable.
Before he finished speaking, everyone in the room was shocked. In an instant, as if someone had given a command, they all knelt down, as if there were weights tied around their necks, and no one dared to raise their head.
I stared with dumbfounded eyes, and saw that the leading official was like thunder from the sky. His feet gave out, and he fell to his knees with a "plop". His head hit the ground with a "dong, dong" sound, and his fingers on the ground were trembling. "Fourteenth Master... Fourteenth Master... Fourteenth Master..." Even his voice changed the tone. Apart from repeating these three words, he could not say anything else.
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The fourth master sat firmly in the throne and was given the title of Yongzheng;
The Fourteenth Master missed the opportunity and has been inferior to others ever since.
A woman involved in the torrent of history, an ordinary face,
Looking back, there are two shallow wine dimples...
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