During the spring hunt, she galloped past him and pulled him out from beneath the hooves of a spooked, crazed horse.
Chu Yu had heard the name Rong Jiao many times before, but until they met, Rong Jiao had never once heard anyone mention the second son of the Chu family.
Once they met, they became inseparable. Looking back later, they realized they had shared many tender moments.
Then they fell out. She was so resolute in leaving that he was left with nowhere to turn, and he swore he would make her see him again.
Rong Jiao remained the illustrious General of Anbei, while Chu Yu entered the palace and became a eunuch. Behind his back, they called him a wretched eunuch, but to his face they still bowed respectfully and addressed him as the Governor.
The emperor was obsessed with pills of immortality and had little time left to live.
When the struggle for the throne began, the court was gripped by fear. Rong Jiao returned to court to support the Third Prince, while Chu Yu remained in the shadows, allied with the First Prince.
After countless bloody clashes, the lovers of old became enemies. It had always been this way between them.
One pressed forward at every turn, and the other silently held his ground. In this endless contest, they wore each other down until death did them part.
Chu Yu thought carefully back over the first half of his life. Bitterness and sweetness mingled within him, and in the end, all he could do was smile bitterly and pretend to accept it. “All the great events in my life happened in spring. I was always a withered tree, longing most for spring. But every time it came, all I got was one wound after another. I’ll never bloom again in this lifetime.”
“I won’t ever leave you again. Your life should have been filled with the brightness of spring, ten thousand times over.”
