In the Daqi Dynasty, everyone in the capital knew two beautiful things.
Xie Yanzhi, a literary scholar with an appearance as bright as the moon and the most talented person in the capital, is well-deserved to be the most talented woman in the capital; Su Qingyuan, who is both talented in martial arts and has a pure heart, is astounded when she writes, and is known as the most talented woman in the capital.
The two have lived next to each other since childhood. They were childhood sweethearts, enlightened together, and grew up together. In the spring we enjoy the peach grove together, in the summer we sit in the pavilion discussing poetry together, in the autumn we climb high and look far into the distance, and in the winter we cook wine by the stove in the snow. The common people in the capital and the children of aristocratic families all secretly professed the truth. As long as the two of them were old enough to have hairpins and crowns, they would get married, creating a story that would last forever.
But God doesn't fulfill people's wishes.
A bright yellow imperial edict came from the palace and resounded throughout the long street.
The talented man Xie Yanzhi was ordered to marry the eldest princess; the talented girl Su Qingyuan was given the opportunity to marry the prince of the dynasty.
The news spread and the whole city was in uproar.
"Are they actually getting married on the same day?"
"What a pity. What a perfect match for these two people..."
"Silence! Don't talk about the royal marriage, or you may be killed!"
The rumors gradually subsided, but people's regrets lingered.
On the eve of the wedding, Xie Yanzhi sat alone in the courtyard, drinking one glass after another of strong wine from the altar into his throat. He drank from dusk to dawn. He was so drunk that he didn't know anyone else, but there was always a touch of pain in his eyes.
A few streets away in the Su Mansion, candle shadows flickered in the boudoir. Su Qingyuan leaned in front of the window and cried silently. The tears wet the brocade handkerchief in front of her. She cried from nightfall until the sky was dim, and her bright eyes were as swollen as peach petals.
Tomorrow, there will be hundreds of miles of red makeup and the sound of gongs and drums.
They will step on the same morning light towards their respective fates.
The childhood sweethearts who were deeply in love in the past are from now on, they are kings and ministers, and they are sisters-in-law. There is no chance of it happening anymore.
Intention: Even those in high positions are prisoners. Under the glorious status, they are all involuntarily lonely and desolate.