A story about two people toyed with by fate, whose love could never have a happy ending.
In autumn, with reed flowers drifting everywhere, Qi Ye finally met Feng Di’s family at the ferry.
She had become a little urn, and he handed her over to them.
More than a year after her death, he dreamed of the young woman.
Girl: Qi Ye, isn’t this pigeon pretty?
Girl: Qi Ye, can I skip the vegetables?
The girl gave him a sly grin: Not a single tael less than 800 for that lingzhi!
At the cliff’s edge, the girl clung to his arm, her face flushed and full of worry. “Qi Ye, pull me up.”
Girl: Qi Ye, you’ve saved me so many times. I’m going to marry you.
Girl: Qi Ye, pass the imperial examinations, then ask my mother for my hand.
Girl: Qi Ye, you can only love me, forever and ever.
Girl: Qi Ye… Qi Ye…
In her next life, Feng Di would start enjoying life as the empress much earlier.
She’d have even more fun than when she was the street-tough flower of the Feng family estate in Jiangnan,
with more gold and silver treasures than she could count,
and she could even sneak out to eat at restaurants.
Qi Ye would still love her dearly and indulge her,
with no palace intrigue to deal with, and time to feed cats, tease dogs, and dine out,
even visit the pleasure houses to admire handsome young men.
Looking was fine, but touching was Qi Ye’s final boundary.
By the end, she could even pinch the young man’s cheek. Qi Ye’s boundaries really did keep shifting.
