Tianlong Zhanji: Dao Xing Jiuzhou

In the twelfth lunar month of winter, with flying snow like catkins, the execution platform in the vegetable market is solemn and desolate. Ye Yuan and his son are about to go to hell. "Tian Xing, have you ever regretted it?" "No regrets!" The young man's voice was hoarse, firm, and resounding. "Okay." Ye Yuan sighed with emotion, "If you are lucky enough to escape, remember! Don't let hatred cloud your mind, let alone forget the Ye family's mission!" That day, blood splashed across Beijing and dyed the white snow red. Ye Tianxing held the cold body of his late father in his arms, looked up to the sky and roared, the sound shaking the sky: "Heaven above, I, Ye Tianxing, swear here that one day, I will punish all of you treacherous and sycophantic people to comfort my father's spirit in heaven!"