What kind of person should we become, the one who holds the sword in our hands? - Dong Zhuo

In the lobby, Yuan Taiqi closed his eyes tremblingly and pretended to sleep on the Taishi chair made of sandalwood, listening to the rustle of the breeze blowing through the flowers outside the window and the opera of the piano in front of the hall, and the thin palms on his legs beat from time to time.

The sound of the piano gradually became more and more exciting, the higher the pitch and thinner, and the last sound seemed to be high in the blue sky and submerged into the clouds.

The pianist in front of the hall flicked his sleeves and pressed the strings violently, and the world was silent, and he didn't hear the slightest noise.

"Yesterday's green silk, the red bones between the mounds;

The moonlight withered late,......

"Fighting for the Crown" Tsing Yi is playing in hand, please wait a while,

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