Lan Jin shines on the heavenly steps: Li Wan remarries King Beijing
On the night when the Jia Mansion collapsed, I burned all my poems.
When the flames licked the rice paper, King Beijing's jade ring rolled down to his feet. It was the token he left at the poetry club.
Ten years later, Jialan won the top prize in high school.
At the banquet in Qionglin, the prince asked me in front of all the officials: "I have been a widow for half my life, and would I like to be the mistress of the North Mansion?"
Amidst the uproar of the whole house, a familiar coughing sound suddenly came from behind the screen.
The woman in plain clothes lifted the curtain and came out, the silver needle in her hand shone coldly: "Sister, don't be afraid, Daiyu is back."
