She is the legitimate daughter of the chief minister and was forced to marry the cold-faced prince.
On the wedding night, he left. She didn't cry and slept well alone.
Later, he came. With warmth, with tenderness, with what she thought would be a lifetime of stability.
But overnight, her father was imprisoned and she was placed under house arrest.
Everyone said that the memorial to her father was written by him himself.
She stood at the door and looked at him, her eyes full of hatred:
"Xiao Huaiyi, I hate you."
Then she jumped off the cliff.
Three years later, a small town in Jiangnan.
She opened a small restaurant, changed her name and surname, thinking that from now on, the mountains and rivers would be far away, and the rivers and lakes would disappear.
Until that day, a boat stopped in front of the store.
She was too familiar with the person who got off the boat - the person she had hated and hid for three years.
He stood in the rain, looking at her from across the street, his eyes red:
"Qing Ci, that memorial was not written by me."
She froze.
Behind him, the Taoist priest in white said softly: "Go. I'll wait for you."
In the distance, the son of the richest man in Jiangnan was also waiting - waiting for her to look back at him.
Three men, three deep feelings.
One made her hate her for three years, one stayed with her for three years, and the other missed her all her life.
But what she wanted was never any of them.
What she wants is freedom.
