When Cai Xiaoqi followed the vague pull and ran into the park, honeysuckle marks suddenly appeared on her wrists, which were as hot as if they had been burnt by fire - the lines were crawling along the blood vessels towards her heart, resonating with the star map pendant in her pocket, making a tiny sound. The flower branches on the window sill grew wildly and broke through the glass. The glass mirror suddenly lit up. Ruoxi, who had been in the thousand-year-old medicine garden, was lowering her head to study medicine. Her green cloth skirt was stained with peach blossom juice. The flower in her hair was exactly the same as the one in the old photo of her grandma in her memory.
From the afterimage of the white dress flashing through the crack, to the medicine bowl she handed over in the dream; from the dark red oozing of the stone tablet unearthed from the ruins of Lingyuan Temple, to the sudden golden light when the copper lock of the underground palace was opened by the pendant - the peach wood tablets engraved with "Qi" and "Xi" collided in the palm of the hand, making the fingertips numb, and the peach blossom patterns floating in the carvings became entangled into inextricable knots.
The herbal atlas guarded from generation to generation is spread out in the morning light. The purple-tipped veins of mint and the zigzag lines of sedum are crawling along the middle of the yellowed paper page, like two vines spanning time and space, drilling into each other's roots along the lines of life. The light of the star chart pendant reflects the star positions on the chart, tying the bonds of ancient and modern times into a complete circle.
This "this body asks the old soul" is never a one-way pursuit. She used her soul as a lock to trap her anger in the cracks for thousands of years, and the dark red mark on her white skirt was a guardian carved into her bones and blood; he used vegetation as a guide, allowing the pungency of mint and the sweetness of honeysuckle to continue with goodwill along with the medicinal fragrance. Those concerns hidden at the bottom of the clay pots and the wooden signs buried deep in the underground palace finally broke through the frozen soil of time and sprouted new roots in the morning light of this world.
