"Never would I have thought that Zuo Guanglie, like myself, would die in such a desolate backwater..." The man in the flame robe shifted his gaze, taking in his surroundings. With a hint of bewilderment, he asked, "What is this place called",This scene was so magnificent that it was difficult for anyone to notice the faint ink strokes at the edge of the painting.,He was either lucky, but the word luck seemed so incongruous with him. His tattered clothes, his gaunt and sickly appearance, even his breath that seemed almost to drift away, all spoke of an unfortunate reality.。