After the sea of silver waves, there were thousands of miles of cloudless skies.
The view was exceptionally broad, with nothing escaping sight.
Between Heaven and Earth, within Chang'an, lay silence, no longer the bustling of days past.
Occasionally, a gentle breeze swept through, but Chang'an was unlike the springwater that frowned.
The gentle breeze entered the city tower; Chang'an knew no sorrow.
This largest city of the Human Race seemed to have fallen into a slumber today.
Under the sunlight, all was silent.
Within the Spirit Boat, Lu Qingshan and the Shui Yue Pavilion Master flickered into appearance.
Gazing at the empty city scene, at the traces left by Li Qiubai's one sword that passed through eighteen gates, the wide central avenue was full of devastation; Lu Qingshan stood silent and speechless.
