In troubled times, the stars fall and the moon floats, the heroes in their twilight years retire sadly, and the young emperors show their prowess for the first time. The swords and armor glowed scarlet under the color of blood. The violent grassland barbarians, the graceful Mengyang people, the mysterious conjurers... Were fighting ferociously on the battlefield set by the gods. Is it the cruelty of "killing one person is a crime, killing ten thousand people is a king", or the tenderness of "a thousand hibiscus adorn you with brocade, and you are clothed with gorgeous clothes in the world of mortals"? The young emperor grew up in the bonds of family, love, and friendship, and either went down in history or suffered thousands of tragedies... Who could know the tenderness and tenderness beneath the mask? Under the song "Midnight Song", how much tenderness can be expressed gracefully, and how many lives have been burned to ashes? A long song, majestic and sad, who is sighing at midnight?
