Later, the history book turned a page.
The red walls and gold tiles of the former imperial court collapsed in the mud, the bluestone brick walls of Nanjun were soaked and turned into wadding, and the wolf totem pole of Beidi was broken into three parts and stuck diagonally in the silt.
A flood that has never happened in a century comes from the west, swallowing up mountains and rivers, and changing the world.
The empty Buddhist hall sank to the bottom of the water, the white jade Guanyin's hand was broken, and the Buddha's head rolled into the mud, still smiling.
The bamboo slips of laws and regulations written by Huan Zhao and Lan Xu to govern Nanjun have long been eaten away by fish and shrimps, and the handwriting is blurred like tear marks.
The scimitars of Jing Qi and Jing Wan rusted into iron filings and were swept away by the waves. No one remembered that they had made the grassland tremble.
After all, Xiang Chunfeng failed to demolish the imperial city - the floods were one step ahead of him, and the plum grove in Chu Ting and Jiang's pavilion were all washed to the ground.
Intention: If there are flowers, you must break them straight away; don't wait until there are no flowers and branches will be left empty.