[Two male leads, pure love, a guiding lover; a roguish, dignified, dangerously obsessive pursuer and a cool, divine beauty who is pursued; a god descends into the mortal world]
Later, everyone in Beijing's elite circles knew that the young master He Chengli had gone mad.
He knelt in the snow for three days and three nights, begging to see the reclusive miracle doctor Cheng Zhuoyu.
Inside the door...
Cheng Zhuoyu's ink-black hair fell loose around him, and his white robes were as pure as snow. He lowered his eyes as he toyed with the string of agarwood beads He Chengli had given him. Faint red marks from the night before still showed on his wrist.
“Let him kneel,” he said, his voice cool and calm. “When he understands that love isn't possession, he can come see me.”
But no one knew...
Just the night before, in this very meditation room,
He Chengli had pinned him against the Buddha statue, biting his earlobe as he spoke in a hoarse voice:
“Dr. Cheng, you save all living beings... so why won't you save me?”
“You teach everyone else to escape suffering, but you taught me greed, anger, delusion, pride, and doubt.”
“Now...” His kiss landed on the trembling lashes of the god. “I'm incurably ill.”
“Will you treat me or not?”
At last, Cheng Zhuoyu looked up at their intertwined reflections in the mirror.
He had saved countless people, but he couldn't understand this kiss.
Even less could he understand why he hadn't pushed him away.
It turned out that a god's fall began with curiosity.
He was a lonely mountain with no ferry crossing, yet the crane insisted on returning to him.
