In the northern border of Dajing, outside Yanmen Pass, the wind and snow are like knives, splitting the heaven and earth. Xiao Ce's iron armor was stained with blood, and the blade split open the enemy's throat, but it couldn't cut through the dull pain in his heart - there was half a piece of armor stuck there, and a white fox curled up inside. The fox's eyes were dotted with beads, and the silver light was like tears. Every time he was close to death, the embroidery thread seemed to be burning in his blood, urging him to live and return to the boudoir window in Chang'an City.
In Chang'an City, in the embroidery room with flickering candlelight, Shen Qingci's fingertips were pricked by an embroidery needle, and blood beads seeped into the cracks in the armor and turned into the pupils of white foxes. She embroidered half her life's longings into silk threads and entrusted tokens to convey her love thousands of miles away. The high walls of the house cannot trap her heart, and the intrigues of the court cannot crush her bones. She knows that the half piece of armor is the life of the general and her soul.
The white fox has a spirit, and once protected their fate when they first met in Nanshan; the broken armor is silent, but it carries the weight of the flames of war and lovesickness. When the smoke at the border and the candlelight in the capital interweave in the night sky, when the tenderness of the iron-blooded general and the character of the harem beauty collide in fate, this twin-threaded story will eventually weave a fateful ancient sadomasochism in the blood and tears, guarding and so on.
