During the fifteenth year of the Xingping era's winter, the cold wind was sharp like a dagger, heartlessly chilling, and the endless snowflakes fluttered like willow catkins in spring, transforming the entire Yujing City into a beautifully serene world.
The commoners on the streets, wrapped in thick cotton, continued their sales pitches incessantly, lively as ever, and a few children, laughing merrily, emerged from the alleyways and ran towards one of the four scenic spots of Yujing City, the Observatory.
No matter the era, the entertainment for the impoverished was always simple and dull.
Outside Yujing City, the Pingyang Guard, as usual, trained amidst the wind and snow, their powerful and robust voices deafening, reaching the skies.
