Rain is a frequent visitor to Jiangnan. When she left Shanghai, the cold rain was like a needle, piercing the bluestone and the heart of ten-year-old Shen Shuyao.
The old monk's verdict: "Jade bones and ice muscles will eventually fall into love."
The rice paper with "Love Tribulation" written on it was crushed into pieces by my father and abandoned in a muddy corner.
Ten years later, the rain came again.
The black cheongsam wrapped her cold figure as she returned from the rain. In the deep compound, the stepmother is hypocritical, the younger brother is arrogant, and under the turbulent chamber of commerce, there are blood-stained arms and life-saving channels. The father handed over the cold "Order of Mountains and Seas": "Moths must be uprooted."
Adjutant Zhang Zhengqing's eyes followed her, and also followed the charred and blackened page that he secretly picked up in the muddy water - the words "Love Tribulation" on it were like a heart-burning mark.
He watched her slap the snake and scorpion, watched her detonate the murderous intention at the bottom of the Huangpu River, watched the blood blossom on her shoulders, and watched the deep pool-like eyes in her eyes, the hot magma cracking under the ice.
When the patriarchal chess game resulted in a marriage contract, and when the gun was pressed against his forehead, Zhang Zhengqing said: "If it were her, I would be willing to never recover."
She ran into his blood-stained arms, with the mark of blood and determination on her lips and teeth. The jade cracked the palm of her hand, and she pressed the bloody fragment into his flesh: "Zhang Zhengqing, this disaster... Belongs to you."
The rain has not stopped, and the calamity is deep.
She leaned forward and put the medicine spoon against his chapped lips.
"Why?"
"I don't believe in Buddha, I only believe in myself."
