Thousands of households and dwellings make up the splendor of the Imperial City, where the crane’s cry echoes through the heavens, its sound vibrating across the eight wildernesses and four seas.
In Zhaohua Hall, the nine gates reopened, yet the bright autumn sun was shielded by the heavy, tiered eaves.
His sharpness hidden beneath the dark, embroidered robes of state, Pei Hengyu sat upright upon the dragon throne. The layered imperial dais created a distance that hid the truth: no one noticed that the young emperor’s clear, bright eyes had, at some point, become clouded with the weariness of ages.
Chapter 38