On the day I married the tyrant who was doomed to die early, the petals of the sycamore tree I caught in my palm had not yet fallen. When I saw him vomiting blood and die in my arms for the ninety-ninth time, and when I returned to the wedding night with the candles burning brightly for the ninety-ninth time, I finally understood that I was trapped in an endless Möbius strip.
The tyrant husband held my hand tightly every time before he died, with broken eyes: "This time... Who are you?" The powerful prime minister stopped me time and time again in the shadow of the palace wall, with bottomless eyes: "Mother, how are you going to save him this time?"
I tore open the brocade quilt, rummaged through old files, held the blood-stained jade pendant, and glimpsed the erased truth in the cracks of circulation: the yellowed wedding document was actually my handwriting, and the person who was always waiting for me at the starting point——
It turns out that he had been waiting for me thousands of times before I opened my eyes for the first time. This time, I will break this ring with my own hands, even if the truth at the end is a fateful entanglement that none of the three of us can escape.
