Tiangong Zhenguan

Outside Chang'an City, the Weishui River is full of water. Autumn, the first year of Wu Zhao. In the side hall of Shangyang Palace in Luoyang, a lone lamp flickered, reflecting a yellowing volume of secret records on the desk. Empress Wu Fu, who was over seventy years old, stroked the scrawled page with her fingertips, and a rare trace of wistfulness flashed in her eyes. "Sir... It turns out that everything you said is true." There is only one line of ink marks on the title page of the secret record: Heaven has created things and Zhenguan has laid its foundation. A stranger from another world has no way to return. The wind came in through the window lattice, and rolled up the paper pages with a rustling sound, revealing the words inside, which recorded a secret that had been sealed for decades—— The prosperous age of Zhenguan was not destined by destiny. Behind the glorious foundation of the Tang Dynasty stands a soul from a thousand years later.