Wen Xihe, a woman who loved the world most, went to the capital to investigate the truth because of an old family case.
Who holds this woman as warm and radiant as the albizia flower in the palm of her hand and becomes the rare warmth in her life?
And who lost it with his own hands, and ended up having to look at the portrait year after year, thinking about when we first met?
The storm is rising, and everything is exquisite. A wishful thinking of love and hate turns tears into flowers.
Xihe: Why play the qin? Since ancient times, playing the qin has only brought out sadness, but not wealth and fame!
The real owner didn't even bother to raise his eyelids, and didn't want to pay attention to her rogue tone: "It's not as good as your flute, but it can make you rich."
Xihe: Hee hee, my husband has such a good look!
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
