Records of Mountains and Seas

The fog in Tai'an City always has an unusual smell - the embroiderer Azhao squatted on the stone steps of Dai Temple and ate cooking cakes, but her eyes were glued to the black pottery cup in the dark space of the mural, which was the blood antidote she had been looking for for three years; When the wind beast buzzed in Azhao's sleeves, when Xiao Xuance's jug knocked open the secret of the Jiuli totem, this temporary partner with different intentions was forced to be tied together: she wanted to find a black pottery cup to suppress the restless blood, and he wanted to use her Jiuli blood to seal the rift in the netherworld; What shakes the bronze bell of Dai Temple is not the morning dew, but Chi You's sigh; what shuttles on the embroidery cloth is not the silk thread, but the sharp edge of the black bird - this adventure in the mountains and seas of Qilu land, from the moment the embroidery needle pierces the cloud pattern, it can no longer stop.