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Dashun Dynasty, Tianwu, twenty-one years.
On the night of the moon, there was a sudden thunder and thunder, and the roof of the palace was trembled with a few tremors, but there was no rain.
The Qintian Superintendent is rushing to the Qiankun Temple, and slamming in front of Tianwu Emperor: "The Emperor, the heavens move, the northwest direction... Fengxing is alive!"
Tianwu Emperor twitched with the hand of the tea pot: "Northwest..." The gaze was sent out along the half-open window. "Speaking, the child should be back."
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