The snow falls on Chang'an night, and the golden bell rings deep in the palace.
Twelve-year-old Yu Wenche, the protégé of Beidi, was kneeling outside Chengtian Hall, with black iron chains embedded in his wrist bones. In the palace, the most favored little princess of Dazhou, Li Zhaoyang, was shaking the golden bell and laughing. She offered her hand to cover, but he lowered his eyes and didn't accept it.
From that moment on, a bloody chess game that lasted for ten years quietly unfolded.
He is the most perfect chess piece and the most deadly chess player.
He forbeared for ten years, studying and practicing calligraphy in his enemy's country, drinking and talking with his enemy's son, and teaching his enemy's daughter to write love poems. Everyone thought that this silent and docile proton had already been stripped of his claws.
Until the old emperor's bedside, he leaned over and whispered:
"Does Your Majesty know that every sip of medicine you take is the lamp oil leading to the underworld?"
She was the only surprise in his plan.
Li Zhaoyang always remembers the ice in the eyes of that young man in the snow. She wanted to warm him, but she didn't know that what she was watering was a poisonous flower that lived on hatred.
On the day when she got haircut, her father gave her to marry the young general Gu Qinglin. In the corner of the banquet, Yu Wenche raised his glass with a smile, and the secret message in his sleeve turned into ashes - on it was the route her fiancé took to die.
Under the sun, there are many shadows.
Gu Qinglin believed in that "brother" until his death, until he saw Yu Wenche standing under the banner of King Beidi, with his father's armor under his feet.
Shen Mingtang held the golden hairpin given by his childhood sweetheart and stabbed it into his heart with a smile. She said: "In this way, we don't have to get married and get married."
And the golden bell on Zhaoyang's wrist finally shattered, just like this dynasty that was once called the "Prosperous Age".
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We all thought we were protecting something.
In the end, only this stretch of endless desolation was left.
If you had it to do over again, would you still accept that handcuff?
Meeting. Because only in this way can I put shackles on you with my own hands.
This is not a story about good and evil, but a story about "having to". When the hatred of the country and family overwhelms personal joys and sorrows, everyone becomes the kind of person they hate the most, but they are still trying to protect the original light.
Purpose: ?? Feelings of family and country are deeply intertwined with personal destiny