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The rain in Chang'an always carries blood that cannot be washed away. When Qi Shuyue returned with half a volume of remnants of chess, the lantern in Tongtuo Alley was shining on the blood stains on the chessboard - that was the last game left by his father. The Tianyuan was a little red, like wet eyes. He told fortunes, but he couldn't tell his own fate. The old man who returned to his hometown chess club handed over an ebony box. The dragon's blood roses in the box withered into dark red and became entangled with the blank chessboard on the silk scroll. When the boy named "Hometown" knocked on the door with copper coins and the chessboard cracked, Qi Shuyue understood: his father's words of "don't look back" were actually asking him to face this duel engraved in his bones and blood. Fortune telling is the blade that breaks the situation, and the Qi family is the cage that needs to be dismantled. He used blood as a guide to predict life and death, and to judge yin and yang, but at the end of the hexagram he saw the most cruel situation - if he wanted to win over the Qi family, he had to kill himself first. The rain was still falling, and the puddles on the bluestone reflected two intertwined shadows, one holding a hexagram and the other holding a blade. "Do you dare to follow this game?" "If you are betting on your life, I will accompany you."...

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