(Sophisticated and calculating, he only talks about not being a powerful traitor in the prosperous times × a sinister and coquettish man who pushes forward and brings disaster to the world)
There are many orchids in the mountains, their flowers are beautiful and fragrant, but their roots are gnarled and nasty, so they can only be viewed from a distance but not sought after.
Lin'an, Jinling, Loushanguan; Luojing, Mobei, Huainan Road - Lan Shu looked back at the point of no return in this life, and his father's poem manuscript was still burning in his chest. From the blood on the Qin hairpin in Lin'an, to the thousands of poems written in the Guange in Bianyi; from the desperate drizzle in Lishan, to the stirring up the storm in front of the palace. Ah Fu, Yu'er; Qing Jia, Lan Shu. He has sat down in front of the case countless times and picked up his pen in the candlelight, leaving only the ink on the paper with tear marks; he has opened the folding fan countless times and been trapped in the painting, and it is difficult to distinguish the true from the false in his heart.
The wind and sand are rising again in the north, but the beacon fire has long disappeared. He seemed to have saved many people, but that year in Mobei, blood was indeed flowing all over the sandy fields ten miles away.
"You will... Kill a lot of people." The man in his memory stood in front of him, his phoenix eyes more solemn than ever before.
"The sacrifice is worth it. I will save more people." He smiled in the memory, passed him, betrayed his lover without hesitation.
Maybe it was the righteousness of the common people that covered his own selfishness with the skin of justice. He took it for granted, betrayed his trust and used any means, but when the person on the dragon chair really did what he wanted, he was so panicked.
"Sir, I'm leaving to Nanshan to spend some time with my father." Finally, he stood on this road, smiling, and bidding farewell to his unknown person.
"Okay, safe..." The man also smiled, but his eyes were red and his voice was choked.
The white horse moves forward leisurely, and the copper bell slowly spreads far and wide.
No one knows when the departed will return, nor does he know - maybe tomorrow, maybe forever.
(Ps: Because it is not a mainstream fast-paced refreshing article, you can refer to the following eating guide when reading——
1. If you pay attention to the love line, please jump to Chapter 3.
2. Please skip Chapter 2 if you are interested in the conspiracy line.
3. If you like the desolate and tragic style, please jump to Chapter 2.
That's it for now, I wish you a happy reading)
Intention: Seek "me"