Strong Wind

In the fields of Chongling, young Liu Xiu lowered his head to help the plow, but his bones and blood contained a whole memory that did not belong to this era. He didn't dare to say it, so he could only hide his eyes from another life in the rust of farm tools. But in Chang'an, the emperor who changed the world beyond recognition wore the cloak of an ancient sage in every reform, but there was clearly a different origin written underneath. Liu Xiu vaguely felt that that person, perhaps like him, was also a lonely soul blown to the wrong place by a strong wind. Two souls separated by two thousand years, separated by mountains and rivers, quietly settled down. If the wind blows together, it will be three hundred years.