When my sister-in-law tore up my marriage certificate, the embroidery needle stuck into my fingertips.
"Sister, accept your fate. Although the richest man in the south of the Yangtze River is nearly sixty years old, if you marry, you will be destined to wear gold and silver."
That night I burned my wedding dress and escaped from the prison with the dyeing book left by my mother.
The old man who was rescued in the mist of the dyeing workshop turned out to be the "Ghost Hand Du" who paid tribute to the royal family.
The night he taught the secret recipe, Fucheng Xiuzhuang was burned down by a fire.
At the palace banquet ten years later, the gold embroidery thread on the phoenix robe suddenly broke.
The old emperor pointed to Jiangnan Weaving: "You have only seven days to weave a double gold plate with a dragon and auspicious cloud pattern."
I picked up the embroidery bag and said, "Why seven days? Half a day is enough."
Where the embroidery needle is turned, the sea of clouds is billowing, and a dragon is swimming on one side and coiling on the other.
At the moment when all the officials were speechless, I lifted my hood - the "dead face" from ten years ago reappeared in the world.
