He once thought that the woman he had raised in the palace for three years after losing his memory was the only warmth in his cold desire for power, a cinnabar mole that could not be erased from his heart. It wasn't until the eve of the wedding that she personally sent him to the prison and retired with success, that he was shocked to realize that he was just the most perfect stroke in her task book. Five years later, the new emperor ascended the throne and enemy envoys entered Beijing. At the banquet, the world-famous female envoy raised a glass to him from afar. There was no longer any affection in her eyes, only a frost of alienation left in her eyes: "Your Highness Prince Jing, you are well." This time, he swore that no matter she was a cinnabar mole or a white moonlight, A'huan or Yunzhuo, he would break her wings with his own hands and imprison her forever by his side.
