The Holy Land, a treasured realm nestled against Jiangnan, was in the heart of early spring, its scenery at its absolute finest.
The Lantern Festival had passed some time ago, and willow catkins drifted like mist across Jiangnan. The spring breeze gently caressed countless pavilions and towers, while the Cang River flowed past Wucheng. Countless painted pleasure boats drifted lazily on the spring breeze, their songs echoing endlessly.
Looking out into the distance, this magnificent yet ancient holy city not only embodied the gentle grace of Jiangnan, but also bore the profound weight of the entire Twenty-One Provinces.
Chapter 170