The black ice of Kunlun condenses with frost, and the peach blossoms of the Emperor's palace fall for nine generations.
She is Ling Qinghan, the empress in charge of the Three Realms. A fire nine hundred years ago caused her to lock her love and hatred into the frozen heart of the emperor. However, on the jade steps of Zichen Palace, all disguises were shattered by a blood-stained man in black clothes - the bronze amulet in his palm that split in half was her obsession that she had hidden for nine lifetimes.
He is Ye Qingyu, the soul of nine reincarnations. From the Emperor Yong to the Taoist disciple, from the hostage of the subjugated country to the Xuanmen sword cultivator, her clothes are stained with blood in every life due to misses and misunderstandings. When the Samsara Mirror shattered, memories of the ninth life came flooding back. He knelt under the Xuanbing Jade steps, looked at the cold empress on the throne, and said hoarsely: "Qinghan, after the ninth life, we should make a break."
On the ice-blue imperial palace, under the obsession of peach blossom powder, the fingertips of the empress trembled slightly because of him, and the eyes of the male soul were affectionate because of her vicissitudes of life. They are each other's disaster, but also each other's salvation; they are the bond that can never be broken through nine reincarnations, and they are the peach blossom promise that spans thousands of years and is finally fulfilled.
This time, she is no longer the empress alone in her throne, and he is no longer a wandering soul in reincarnation. When the Qinghan sword resonates with the bronze fragments, when the peach blossoms in the sky merge with the Kunlun black ice, in this life, they will turn the frost of the ninth life into fireworks that will never be separated.
Reader comments
This is my trial novella, estimated to be over 30,000 words long. It's an honor to share this half-in-progress story with you here. During the process of creation, I felt anxious, fearing that my writing power would fail. Thank you for reading, this is a great encouragement to me.
This is my trial novella, estimated to be over 30,000 words long. It's an honor to share this half-in-progress story with you here. During the process of creation, I felt anxious, fearing that my writing power would fail. Thank you for reading, this is a great encouragement to me.