Capital City. Inside an old courtyard heavily guarded by soldiers.
On a tea table made of huanghuali wood, steam rose from a cup of tea, the scent of Da Hong Pao tea filling the courtyard.
An elder with a spirited appearance tasted the tea in his cup, tapping his fingers on the table, lost in thought.
Wu Youmin, the renowned doctor of the large nation, stood silently by his side, showing respect, "The weather has turned cold, carrying on like this will harm your health."
"I'm but old bones now, my flesh half-buried in the soil. If King Yan wanted to take me, he would have done so fifty years ago," the elder lamented. He reminisced about the past, how he had survived through gunfire and bullets to protect the heritage of Huaxia, up to the present peace and prosperity, where the people lived in happiness and contentment—as if the scenes from decades ago were all but dreams.
