Imagine that the heroine dies with hatred after going through hardships and hardships, and then opens her eyes again only to find that she has returned to her childhood.
In the warm afternoon, there are rattan lounge chairs, grape leaves trembling in the wind, and a silk fan covering the face. The fan is embroidered with fluttering birds, which are lifelike.
She is still the beloved child of her family, with loving parents and a gentle brother. The court, the war, the chill, the hatred, the perseverance, the poisonous wine, the request for help, the desolation, the tragedy, the regret, all disappeared without a trace along with the smoke and dust of the past. The light of the sword, the treacherous waves, the bloody wind were all blocked by the sunlight.
It's like having an extremely tiring dream and waking up right back to where you started again.
Nothing has happened yet, nothing is lost yet.
