Qinglian

In ancient times, there were political intrigues, internal fights in the mansion, soft spots for each other, love and death. Her uncle told her that if she wanted to gain a foothold in Dachu, she had to learn how to risk death and survive. He was only six or seven years old that year, which was the year he met her. From then on, she became his obsession. When we met again that year, it was snowing heavily. He was wearing a black cloak and looked majestic. His face was filled with a chilling air, and his tall body was extremely conspicuous in the crowd. She looked at her, and she couldn't hear the taunts, the sound of wheels, or the noisy footsteps. She looked at him, and her not-so-bright eyes suddenly filled with tears. She is angry, she is wronged, she is angry... He stood there looking at her, her body was thin, and her half-worn cotton-padded jacket and skirt could not protect her from the severe cold of the winter months. She was crying violently, and he felt that something was blocked in his heart, and the joints of his fingers were clenched tightly, making a crackling sound. He didn't know why she was in such a mess. Many questions were swirling in his mind. He wanted to know, what had she suffered in the past few years? He walked towards her quickly...