The Holy War of Chang'an

In the prosperous age of Chang'an, the country is always at night. The autumn water in the rivers and lakes is filled with floating flowers and pistils. One is a prince of the Tang Dynasty who is as gentle as jade and was forced to endure for more than ten years; the other is a cunning and cunning young man from the capital who turns the world upside down. The young master is as clear as snow. When an old friend returns home after stepping on the moon, can I offer him a cup of pear blossom white, which will float three big whites? Tang Dynasty, Tubo, Nanzhao. Central Plains, Western Regions, Southern Xinjiang. Nine doors, worshiping fire, five poisons. When the bells of Yong'an City rang, three thousand soldiers stood ready, guarding the soul of the Tang Dynasty with their long spears. The martial arts community in the Central Plains never regretted it even after nine deaths, and vowed to live and die together with the country. In the face of national justice, where will the protagonists in these stories go and what choices will they make? Even if you step on the corpses of your companions, you must move forward with your head held high, because your soul cannot be bent. Keep a narrow sense in mind, serve the country and the people, and never regret life or death. Pushing open the dusty bronze door, with a creak, the gears of fate began to turn. This was a cycle of fate that no one could change. All the joys and sorrows in the world are finally given to the storyteller. Dear readers, I will speak slowly and you will watch slowly. Waiter, serve tea. Sir, please take a seat.