The sky was high and the clouds wispy.
Banners drooped low.
The Grand Music Master struck the final note, the pitch-pot regulator signaled with his flag, a gong sounded, and the music halted.
The panicked wild geese, their breast feathers heaving violently, finally found the chance to flee with flapping wings.
Clang!
The spear fell to the ground.
Beads of blood dripped down from the fingertips, blending into the dampened cotton cloth, staining a small pink bloom.
Haruhan collapsed to the ground, such a large man, but in falling, he covered merely a few feet.
The Honglu Temple announced the winner and the loser.
Batu silently carried Haruhan off the field.
A new year brought a new atmosphere.
All the court officials, civil and military alike, were refreshed, stroking their beards continuously.
The envoys from the smaller nations were not yet satisfied, their eyes filled only with reverence for the eminent state of Dashun.
"Damn, that's cool!"
