[The heroine's perspective: third person of the text]
I am Gu Caijun, the legitimate daughter of the Prime Minister of Kyoto. I was raised by my father at my grandmother's house since I was a child.
Later, his father was demoted again and again to protect the crown prince Li Qingliang. For this reason, I hate Li Qingliang very much.
Not only did he take away the father's love that I should have had, he also caused the Zhong family to wander around without a fixed home.
Fortunately, my exquisite paintings were highly praised by the dignitaries in Beijing, so I was not reduced to begging everywhere.
I only think about these experiences occasionally, and I always think that if I see Li Qingliang, I will scold him.
Later, I did meet Li Qingliang, but only three times in my life.
The first time they met, it was when Li Qingliang was in trouble. In order to protect the refugees, he offended the Holy Emperor, and was eventually demoted to a commoner, expelled from Kyoto, and became a commoner.
On the day Li Qingliang was driven out of the imperial city, I was entrusted by my father to give him a message, but I couldn't really give him a message, and I didn't even have time to watch the fun.
I stood on the official road and handed him a letter with a smile: "Prince Li... Oh, Mr. Li, this is a letter from my father to you."
Li Qingliang opened the envelope and looked at the vivid turtle. His serious and solemn eyebrows slowly relaxed, showing his youthful spirit, "Thank you, Miss Gu, for taking me to say hello to the teacher."
He is happy, but I am not happy.
When we met for the second time, there happened to be a nobleman from Beijing who offered me a large sum of money to buy my paintings, but his only requirement was that I deliver them in person.
So on the streets of Shangjing, I saw Li Qingliang, who was being taken back to the palace by the Queen Mother, who was preparing to inherit the throne.
At this time, he was no longer high-spirited. With the support of the crowd, his whole body was covered with ice. At first glance, he looked cold and cold.
I waved my painting in the crowd, tears filled my eyes, and I was so happy.
The father was indeed right.
And Li Qingliang seemed to have seen me, and there was a strange look in his eyes, which became calm for a moment.
The third time they met, it was when the Jin soldiers went south, there were many wars, and the Zhong family was restoring its glory.
Li Qingliang paid a private visit incognito, and he gave me a painting by a master.
As courtesy, I asked Li Qingliang: "What do you want to record most? I will draw it for you."
Li Qingliang's eyes fell deeply on me, and there was a trace of reluctance in his eyes. After a long time, he said: "No need, she has long been engraved in my mind."
This is the last time I see Li Qingliang.
One month later, he led the troops to go on an expedition and defended the country. Unfortunately, he died on the battlefield.
Without Li Qingliang, Kyoto was in chaos and war broke out.
When the Jin soldiers broke open the gate of Gu's mansion, they asked us to surrender.
But how can I surrender?
This is the territory that Li Qingliang defends to the death.
I picked up my bow and arrow and shot randomly. I still couldn't take away a single golden soldier before I passed away.
Pity.
No regrets either.
Li Qingliang and his father have guarded the territory their whole lives, and I have guarded it too.
However, when he opened his eyes again, he returned to the day when he first met Li Qingliang.
In Chun and Jingming, he stood on the official road, looked at me steadily for a long time, then smiled and said, "Gu Jiuniang."
Gu Jiuniang?
I turned my head and remembered that my father was Li Qingliang's teacher. He was not taking advantage of me, so I chuckled and said, "Brother Li, the road is bumpy, so take care of yourself along the way."
After saying that, I left without looking back.
However, looking at Li Qingliang following behind, Gu Caijun was confused.
Reading guide: The whole text is abstract, no need to pay attention to it.
Intention: Love is hard to die
