The second time Evan Zhao walked into the Han Palace, he felt something completely different.
The last time the Weiyang Palace held a banquet, all I could see was the clinking of glasses, string music, melodious singers, and slender dancers. Exquisite bronze lamps lit up the hall, just like the stars in the sky illuminating the mortal world, and the prosperous colors made people intoxicated.
Now when I come back, I see the flying eaves and the phoenixes and dragons, and the unique sense of heaviness and solemnity of the Qin and Han Dynasty architecture rushes towards me.
The eunuch led the way, and the soldiers in front of the palace stood like tall pines, their armor and helmets were all black, only the long spears reflected a cold light, which was icy and intimidating.
"Doctor Zhao, wear a sword."
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