The snow is getting heavier and heavier. Feng Lin walked slowly past each coffin, and his fingertips touched the cold coffin lids, as if they were touching nine once-living faces——
Coffin 1: The young general, with an arrow scar between his eyebrows, clutching the jade pendant she gave him before he died.
Coffin 2: Prime Minister Wen Run, holding in her hand the white jade hairpin given to her that year, the hairpin head stained with black blood.
Coffin Three: The Evil Lord, with a smile on his lips and half a pastry she threw away in his arms.
Coffin Four: Qing Leng Immortal Lord, before she died, she condensed her entire life into a heart-protecting scale and set it on her armor.
Coffin Five: A foreign prince, with the faded red rope she knitted wrapped around his wrist.
Coffin Six: The romantic harp saint, the Jiaowei harp with broken strings is in the coffin with him, the body of the harp is engraved with the word "phoenix".
Coffin Seven: The young emperor, carrying in his arms the edict to abolish the queen that could never be sent.
Coffin Eight: A mysterious assassin, covered in scars, but guarding her portrait in his heart.
Coffin Nine...
Feng Lin stopped in front of the coffin and remained motionless for a long time.
"I split my soul and reincarnated for nine lives, appearing next to her with a different identity in each life," he looked at the thin figure in the snow, with three hundred years of persistence and madness in his eyes, "just to make her... Fall in love with me in every life."
"In the ninth coffin..."
"It's the real me." He whispered, "The me she killed with her own hands three hundred years ago."
