At the hour of Mao, deep into the night,
A lone carriage sped through the rain across the central axis of Di'an Megalopolis, elevated several feet above the ground. The straight and unyielding royal road stretched onward, uninterrupted, leading to the summit of Palace City.
The night in Di'an City hung low, its dark curtain draped over a thousand lit households.
Autumn rain softly tapped against the window blinds, scattering faint sparks of firelight along the way.
In the fragrant, tranquil carriage compartment, a man with meticulously tied long hair sat silently, his angled gaze peering out at the scenery beyond the window.
The expansive Di'an City had largely succumbed to sleep by now. Only in the sleepless districts did revelry persist, their light soaked by the torrential rain.
The man watched the far-off revels in quiet contemplation,
observing the hysteria concealed beneath the surface of song and dance.
Unconsciously,
