In the winter of the fifteenth year of Taiping, her eyes were gouged out, her finger bones were crushed, and she was hung on the city wall like a rag for public display.
Once upon a time, she was Qin Yuemian, the noble daughter-in-law of the Marquis of Jing'an, who devoted everything she had to the man who promised her a kingdom. Little did he know that her proud photographic memory and poison-matching skills were, in his eyes, nothing more than a bargaining chip for "waste utilization"; she lured the wolf into the house and personally pushed Xiao Mochen, the only Xiao Prince who truly treated her, into a desperate situation where he massacred the city for her and pierced his heart with thousands of arrows; she even caused her father and brother to die tragically, and all twenty-six members of the Qin family were stained with blood on the execution ground!
The overwhelming hatred and unwillingness stirred up Jiuyou.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the winter of the 13th year of Taiping - the tragedy had not yet begun, his relatives were still there, and his clear almond eyes were still intact on his face.
The evil ghost returned from hell, wearing a peerless skin, with only poisonous ice and sky-burning anger in his eyes. In this life, she, Qin Yuemian, is not a lover, but only a blood debt! Medical skills? It's her revenge blade! Resourceful? It's the web she weaved! She wanted that pair of bitches to taste a hundred times her pain and crush everything they cherished into dust!
But, why did Xiao Mochen, who sacrificed his life for her in his previous life, appear again in her murderous chess game? The misunderstandings were entangled like thorns, and his deep gaze still made her soul tremble. Should we avoid this fateful entanglement, or should we risk our sincerity again?
When she was dressed in red and defeated the fire, standing in front of a thousand troops, watching the man who fought bloody battles for her deliver the decisive blow——
The flames of war are ablaze, but only trust remains. At the end of this bloody journey home, will we go to hell together, or hold the mountains and rivers in our hands?
Come on, come on