C447 Han Qianren

He was dressed in black, not the black of modern men, and he was standing in the middle of the field path.

The breeze gently rolled up his clothes, and the black cloth tied around his waist gently swayed. His long hair fluttered in the wind, looking elegant and graceful.

His body was very straight, like a marker as he stood silently in the middle of the road. His face was grave and grave