The Machiavellian Shura and the Delicate Noble Girl Shan He Are the Witnesses.

The last date of the letter was exactly the eve of the palace change three years ago. The wind and snow outside the window are beating against the window lattice, which is very similar to the sound of armor leaves scraping against the eaves when the imperial army surrounded the house. She turned around and ran into his arms. The man who had just received the "Unparalleled Loyalty and Bravery" golden plaque had dark red mud stains on the corners of his black robe. His fingertips were as cold as ice. When he brushed against the old crescent scar on her wrist, the force was so strong that it would carve his mark on the flesh. "What good thing are you hiding?" His voice was low and hoarse, and his breath swept over her temples, carrying the cold fragrance of the golden plaque and inexplicable ambiguity, "Why don't you show it to me?"