Whenever the dynasty comes to an end, the relics of Mending the Sky will create another Dream of Red Mansions.
Seventy-one-year-old Jia Baoyu threw himself into Qinhuai to seek death, but when he woke up, he became Baoerlangjun of Jiankang in Nanliang. The old friend is still here, the sedan chair to welcome the spring has arrived at the door, and the one to receive the bride is Sun Shaozu, a subordinate of Hou Jing.
He stopped the sedan chair, broke into the ancestral hall, and took out the old armor left by his ancestors. This time, the debt of life owed by the wicked must be repaid with bones, property, and power.
But outside the garden gate, there are Taicheng that is about to fall, Jiangling that is waiting to be burned, and emperors and generals who use the wives and children of the people in the world as bargaining chips.
Daiyu also picked up Xie Daoyun's knife back then. The girl who lived under someone else's roof now had to guard her own home; but when the enemy soldiers came, she personally closed the secret passage that allowed only the nobles to escape.
Later, those who buried the flowers began to bury the unnamed defenders.
Baoyu finally understood that if the twelve judgments were changed, a new daughter would still be sent to the sedan chair; if another person sat in the Zhulou, the person who built the building might not have a tile to cover himself.
From Qinhuai to Jiangling, from defending the southeast to marching northward, he wanted to compete with the strong men of the past for the world, but also guarded against those who were mending the sky side by side, and turned around to build a red building that cannibalize people.
Daiyu asked: "With this stone of yours, can you really mend the sky?"
The fire gradually started under the city. Silk weavers, boat builders, city builders, people who have never been written down in family trees or merit books, are coming with lanterns.
Baoyu didn't answer immediately.
Once upon a time, when he stood on the Zhulou Tower, he only saw a spring garden. Now when I walked out of the garden gate, I saw the people holding up the Zhulou. It turned out that they had been standing in the wind and rain.
"Open the door first," he said.
"When the sky is patched up, they must be allowed to step in."
