The plot is unconventional and logically organized. The content may cause discomfort, and the readers will be tortured and run away. This is a group portrait of deep palace sadomasochism. It's a traditional palace fight, with brain-busting stories, and the heroine cleverly uses strategies to get revenge in the palace. Have you ever seen Gong Douwen where both men and women fight? It depicts the tragedy of the ancient feudal system and shows the brutality of court struggle and the complexity of human nature. Each character in the book is very three-dimensional and has his own purpose and persistence. It is not a double story. The heroine and the male protagonist have a sadomasochistic relationship.
I have loved him for ten years, but I am only worthy of being her shadow. The first time I saw him, I was being chased and pushed into a fire pit. He rescued me from the traffickers, took off his coat and put it on my shoulders, and said warmly: "Girl, you are free." From that moment on, I knew that I was destined to follow him for the rest of my life. Not because of repayment, but because - he was the first person who didn't want anything from me and just wanted me to live. I followed him around, trying to find someone with him. I've been looking for it for ten years. His temples turned completely white overnight at Anqing Ferry one year. Because someone told him that his wife had appeared there. He chased you for three days and three nights, but it was not you who he chased. He squatted on the dock all night. When I found him the next day, his temples were completely white. He never cried when he drank. When I'm awake I don't shed a single tear. Only drunk, lying alone on the inn bed, shouting "Die'er, Die'er, where are you, where are you", tears flowing from the corners of the eyes into the pillow. I wiped it for him. He never knew. He bought the house in the south of the city. The yard is filled with gardenias, the swing is set up, and the children's room is decorated. He goes there every year, sitting alone in the empty yard and staring at the gardenia tree in a daze. The flowers bloom and then fade, and then bloom again. You never came back. Later, he finally found her. She stood in the pavilion, wearing a simple and elegant kimono, her eyebrows were as cold as frost, like someone walking out of a painting. I stood outside the pavilion and suddenly felt that I was very, very small - like a grass on the roadside. I looked up and saw a flower blooming in the sky. I was illiterate, my hands were covered with calluses from washing and cooking, and I was wearing coarse clothes that had turned white from washing. And on her, even the folds on her cuffs are beautiful. No wonder. No wonder he missed her for so many years. That day, he knelt in front of the Yang Mansion all day long, exchanging all his family property for betrothal gifts, and just wanted to beg her to come back. She refused. She said to him in unfamiliar Japanese - "Sir, you have the wrong person." When he walked out, the light in his eyes went out. He walked past me without even seeing me. She was always the only one in his eyes. I rushed into the pavilion, knelt in front of her, and told her every word of the suffering he had suffered over the years while crying. His search, his yearning, his drunkenness, his insomnia, his gray hair. I don't want anything else but to ask her to come back - as long as she is willing to come back, I can leave. I can disappear completely. She just stood there, looking at me expressionlessly. Finally, she said something coldly in that unfamiliar tone - "If you love him, stay by his side and warm him. Sooner or later, he will feel your love and accept you." Then she turned around and walked away step by step. I know she is not heartless. In her sleeves, the blood from her fingernails had stained the lining red. Like me, she is using the coldest expression to hide the most painful heart. Later he finally married me. On the wedding day, he drank a lot of wine and became unconscious. I helped him back to the room, and he leaned on my shoulder and shouted her name. A year later I gave birth to my daughter, and he named her Niandie. Zhang Zhiming's daughter, Zhang Niandie. It dawned on me at that moment. In this life, in his heart, I will always be just a shadow of her. Niandie, Niandie. If you keep thinking about it, there will be no response. Until his death, he carried the silver butterfly hairpin she left in his arms. I stood in front of his grave without crying. I just put another hairpin, the one she last wore on her head, with his. "You are finally reunited." I said, "She has been waiting for you all her life, and you have been waiting for her all her life. Don't miss it in the next life." And that exquisite crystal ball - the only hand-picked gift he gave her - I quietly put it into my daughter's swaddling clothes. Let Niandie grow up with it. It is the only tenderness left in her father's life.
From the perspective of the villain Xiao Qihao in "Butterfly Shadow Returns to Dust", write a book promotion copy that directly touches people's hearts. Title: The ceiling of sadomasochism in the Republic of China "Butterfly Shadow Returns to Dust"｜"I ruined your life, but I wanted to spend the rest of my life atonement" - the belated confession of a villain My name is Xiao Qihao. The illegitimate son of the Zhang family and the half-brother of Zhang Zhiming. In this life, the person I am most jealous of is my brother. He has an orthodox status, a substantial family fortune, and that woman - Lin Die'er. The first time I met her was in the courtyard of Zhang Mansion. She stood among the flowers, turning her head to talk and laugh with the maid, her features and eyes were full of clarity that had never been seen in the world. At that moment, something in my heart grew completely crazy - why? Why can Zhang Zhiming own her openly? Why can I only hide in the dark, like an ant that cannot see the light? I told myself: Since she doesn't love Zhang Zhiming, why can't she be replaced by me? Once this idea takes root, it can never be uprooted. Later, she became my prisoner. I trapped her in another courtyard and tortured her day and night. I pinched her chin, forced her to raise her head to look at me, and said to her: "From now on, you are mine." I tried my best to be kind to her, made the courtyard exquisite and warm, collected her favorite snacks and treasures, and learned to be gentle and accommodating. But she never looked at me. There was no warmth in her eyes, like a pool of stagnant water. I knew in my heart that she was just waiting for my brother to save her. But it doesn't matter - as long as she's by my side, that's enough. She gave birth to a son for me. I was ecstatic, thinking that this was my flesh and blood. Holding that little baby in my arms, I felt for the first time that I had won against Zhang Zhiming. I announced to the public that the child was born to my concubine Ping'er, completely erasing the connection between Die'er and the child. I thought this would keep her by my side forever. But I don't know—the baby isn't mine. She gritted her teeth and survived, letting me raise children for her and the one she truly loved for a lifetime. Later, she was secretly sold to a brothel by my mother, and there was no news from her. I searched everywhere like crazy, walking through the streets and alleys, but I couldn't find her again. During those days, I was exposed to heavy smoke and felt confused all day long. When I fell asleep at night, my arms were empty. I suddenly remembered those nights when she curled up on my chest, frowning, and muttered a name vaguely in her dream: "Zhiming..." It turned out that the person she called in my arms was always another man. It turns out that from beginning to end, I was just an outsider. Many years later, I quit smoking and made Ping'er my main wife. I held the child named Yi An in the palm of my hand and taught him how to read and write, and to remember the righteousness of our family and country. I poured all my guilt, debt and obsession into him. I believe till my death that he is my biological flesh and blood. Until news came from his confidants: Die'er was dead. While performing a mission, he blocked a fatal shot for someone else. The book in my hand suddenly slipped and I froze in place. After searching for several years, waiting for several years, and obsessing for several years, what we waited for was the news of her death. I returned to the study and closed the door for three days without eating or drinking. In her hand, she was holding the golden butterfly hairpin that she had left in another courtyard - it was custom-made for her by my brother. She took it away, thinking that if she saw an injured Zhiming on the road, she would use this most valuable possession to save him. Who knows, I will never be able to come back to him again. I think of that night, when she said to me who was out of control with tears on her face: I am just your trophy. At that moment, I finally understood. I kept saying I loved her, but I used the most despicable means to destroy her. I regard her as a trophy and a tool for revenge against Zhang Zhiming. But do I really not love her? "Die'er, I love you. Because you are you, not a trophy." It was a pity that she would never hear these words again. I devoted all my guilt and longing for her to the front line of the Anti-Japanese War. Boxes of medicine, carts of food, and pieces of cotton-padded clothes. I'm not trying to be a hero. I just want to use this method to repay what I owe her, what I owe Zhang Zhiming, and what I owe that child. Even if it's never clear. In this life, I thought I was a predator. In the end, I realized that I was the one with nothing. She never belonged to me, the child never belonged to me, and even the time I thought I had was a self-deception. I am Xiao Qihao. [Crying][Crying][Crying] The villain who used despicable means to imprison her, but finally spent the rest of his life repenting. This is my story. The wind and moon in the world cannot wait for us to stay together forever, and the shadow of the butterfly returns to the dust, and there is no return date to wait for. After finishing the book, it's hard to calm down.
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