Amidst the clouds and mist on the cold peak, Yan Guifu leaned against the corner of the bed, blood dripping from his fingers, and he fell heavily. Jing Luoxi, a familiar but alienated person opened the door of the bamboo house again after many years, only to see a bright red.
How did you get yourself into this state? Isn't it true that your life has become harder and harder in the years since I've been away? But the tears rolled down drop by drop, seeping into the clothes of the person in his arms...
Concept: Love is like a precise strike in mist