Sharing Mountains and Rivers at Dusk

The fire in Yaolu at the border once reflected her silhouette twisting needles with bare hands. The orphan girl of the previous dynasty hid in the market, her silver needle stitched against the moon, sewing together the fate that was about to be shattered in the troubled times. The long wind on the border battlefield always covered the uncondensed blood marks on his sword. The young general is trapped in the court, with his spear pointing north, guarding the chess game that is about to fall. That glance three years ago, was it the scent of medicine that broke the war, or was it the heartbeat that disrupted the war? When the remnants of the old dynasty rekindled, she used her medical skills as a blade to cut into people's hearts and break up conspiracies, but she wrote feelings in the wooden sign that she dared not express openly; he used his iron bones as a shield to derail conspiracies and protect mountains and rivers, but hid a tenderness that could not be shown to others under his armor. From the medicine furnace at the border to the night banquet in the palace, from the protection of life and death to the heart-to-heart relationship. In this troubled world, can benevolence break through the confusion? Can Chicheng stay true to himself? Let's look at a pair of people, holding hands in the dusk, walking together in the morning dawn, sharing the hope of peace in the mountains and rivers.