You and I were born from the same womb, just half an hour apart. My mother-in-law calls you Changning and me Shi'an. May we always enjoy peace and quiet.
But it's you who will be safe forever, and it's me who will be lonely every year.
When he was fifteen years old, the army in the north was defeated, and the court named a prince as a hostage. He stepped out of the queue, but I was ahead of him - this life is unnecessary. Taking risks for you is like repaying what I have owed you all these years.
Three years in the north, frost knives and snow swords. I chewed the candy cake he stuffed into my arms, sneering while chewing. After I finished eating the candy, I started to look south.
Later, I returned to the capital with all my injuries - he had ascended the throne as emperor, but he waited for me at the palace gate every day.
He asked me if the injury still hurt, but I didn't answer. He made medicine for me, but I didn't say thank you. He said he would accompany me to see the plum blossoms when they bloomed, but I didn't respond.
But I've been carrying that empty oil paper bag for three years and still can't bear to throw it away.
It turns out that some things are harder to let go than hatred.
