She is an old friend who disappeared when he was six years old. He waited for her for twenty-five years until he forgot who he was waiting for. I just remember that someone had a scar from his tiger's mouth. I only remember that the scar held his hand and taught him to write his name stroke by stroke. ——She was the sweeper of the East Palace when we met again. He was the Crown Prince who chopped off her broom with a sword. She put the jade token into her arms and put the black iron broom on her shoulder. She swept the floor that she had not finished twenty-five years ago, day by day. He walked out of the door at three o'clock every day. No reason. Just a habit. I'm just afraid that she'll leave again. But - he waited for twenty-five years, and finally someone asked him: "Your Highness, why are the marks on the side of your neck still not gone?" He said: "You smoked it, you are responsible for it."
