[Transmigration + two strong leads + a fated bond across time] A Nuo mask and an unhealed wound. The drums began, and Lin Xi fell into a world at war three hundred years in the past.
A goddess of the Nuo? Only Zhu Ya, the young ritual master, knew she wasn’t one. He didn’t expose her or draw close. He simply brought her a bowl of bitter tea late at night, and when she climbed the wall to sing a Nuo opera and drive back the enemy, he stood behind her with a blade in hand.
When the flames of war reached the foot of the mountain, he traded a finger for her life, and she gave herself to secure the village’s safety.
Three hundred years later, he still had the same face. A finger was missing from his left hand as he offered her the same bitter tea and asked, “You couldn’t stomach it before. How about now?”
She had forgotten everything, but she couldn’t stop her tears.
The drums sound again. Will the one she knew return?
The Nuo mask can hide a god, but it can’t hide…
