In a daze, I seem to dream of our childhood again, as if I've returned to the moment you said, “Li'er, when you come of age, will you marry me?”
Your eyes were so bright then, bright enough for anyone to see the little stars in them at a glance. And in those stars, you held me gently in your arms.
But later, every time I looked into your eyes, all I saw was my own sorrow. Every time I faced the mirror, it was like putting myself through the torture of death.
The world commemorates his most painful day, while I died in the arms of the one I loved.
“Li'er, I don't want to guard this northern frontier anymore.”
“Li'er, look, the pear blossoms are blooming again.”
I think I died, and yet perhaps I didn't. In the end, the endless white snow blurred the face of the one I loved most... I have no keepsake of his, but it doesn't matter. I myself am his keepsake.
A mischievous princess and a scheming general + soul swap + tragic romance
