PREVIEW
... irds sang as a breath of cold air slipped through my window. I wrapped my fur cloak tighter and made my way to the Imperial Court. In the prosperous city of the past, carriages flowed like a river, so crowded that a common peddler might take a wrong step and find himself before the vermilion gates of a noble house. Now, only cultivators on flying swords remain. On the road, I passed a young child who spoke with blunt innocence, asking, "My lord, is our nation about to fall?"]
[How can I ...
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