Ten years ago in Changqingchuan, East Vietnam and Xiling were at war. The Jingxi Army of East Vietnam was ordered to rush to the aid of the Qingzhou Army. The comrades who died in the battle actually stood up from a pool of blood. The puppets in human skin turned against each other and bit the robes that still had a breath left. Thirty thousand soldiers were stained with blood on the beach. Xu Zhiwei, the major general of the Jingxi Palace, climbed out of the mountain of corpses and sea of blood.
Ten years later, he was the owner of the "Yiyijiang" noodle restaurant on Qingyu Street in Linzhou, Yu Zhiwei.
At the eldest princess's birthday party, the third prince of Nanzhao, Duan Siming, died suddenly, and a lotus mark appeared on his body. A market cook, an exotic princess, a dandy young minister, and a cold-faced guard are forced to form an alliance. Starting from the birthday banquet murder case, the four work together to solve the case... Every step of the way reveals a deeper and bloody past. All the clues converge in the same direction: someone is secretly opening the same door with the same key, and there is a gold foil lotus flower throughout.
Four people and seven cases connect this chess game that spans ten years. No one is an outsider. Facing the mystery of the collapse of Changqingchuan and the mystery of the existence of the golden lotus, Yu Zhiwei must make a life or death decision.
In the face of the power game, human life is like a mustard seed, like a bowl of noodles in a gluten-free noodle shop. But when someone keeps the fire for this bowl of noodles for a lifetime, and puts aside ten years of obsession for this bowl of noodles, Xumi can also be seen in the mustard seeds.
Purpose: The novel is about four people working together to solve a crime, but what it really explores is how people who survive the aftermath face inner reconstruction and face the choice between hatred and emotion. Machiavellian tactics are no match for Yunyan. What is truly worth keeping is the temperature of a handful of firewood in the stove, and the warmth of a bowl of hot soup under the eaves. It is as raw as a mustard seed, and is hidden between a ladle and a drink. The so-called letting go does not mean forgetting, it means no longer being driven by hatred; the so-called return does not mean meeting again, but learning to live with the past.