Lingxi: one name bound to her through four lifetimes, each spent trapped in a cage of “love” and repeatedly tortured by pain.
The rain fell for thirty years in the Republican era. Clutching the jade pendant engraved with “Yuan” that Gu Yan had left her, Shen Lingxi waited on the platform for a train that would never return. She didn’t know that this gentle doctor had set the “Four-Life Tragic Curse” in motion, or that this farewell was part of his plan: to make thirty years of waiting carve “Gu Yan” into her soul.
In the modern era, cherry blossoms fell like funeral petals. Su Lingxi was accused of “plagiarism” by Jiang Zhe and condemned by the whole world, while Lu Chen (Xuanyuan) hid his heartache and said nothing in her defense. The psychologist who always lit calming incense for her was using the pain of “being abandoned” to pry loose the memories buried deep in her soul.
The snow of the Great Jing dynasty froze to the bone. Lin Lingxi held poisoned wine in the Cold Palace. Xuan Yuan (Mo Yuan) lingered outside the door but never came in. He knew how afraid of pain she was, yet watched her drink the poison. Only after she died did he erect a blank tombstone and bury the bamboo flute she loved, using “death’s separation” to make sure she would never forget “Xuan Yuan” in any reincarnation.
The light of the future was so bright it hurt to look at. In an awareness chamber, Ye Lingxi was tortured by the “ancient truth.” At last, she saw clearly: Gu Yan, Lu Chen, Xuan Yuan, and Mo Yuan were all the same person, the lover she could not have in ancient times. Afraid she would forget him, afraid she would leave, he had used the “Four-Life Tragic Curse” to make himself the “pain” in every one of her lives.
Lingxi’s sensitivity became his weapon. She was torn between “loving” and “not loving,” unable to see the tenderness hidden in the little things, which only became a sharper thorn in her memories.
