Archaeologist Ying Che found a mark on the back of a kneeling archer figurine in the Qin Mausoleum that was not supposed to exist. The moment his fingertips touched it, the wordless black jade he had worn around his neck since he was a child suddenly became hot.
He didn't know that it was a secret mark he had set two thousand years ago.
Beside the pit of the figurines, a shadowless woman whispered the meaning of the "hui" pattern on the soles of the pottery figurines - it was talking about the way home.
Her name is Su Wan. The orphan of the historian, the secret of Qin Shihuang's failure to establish a queen.
Ying Zheng hid her all her life, and history books erased her all her life. He died after blocking an arrow, accidentally taking the elixir of longevity, and his soul was imprisoned by the Lishan Mountains for two thousand years. Now he has returned from reincarnation, taking her jade with him, standing in front of her, but no longer recognizes her.
What she is waiting for is not the emperor of eternity. It was the boy who handed her half a piece of cake in the wind and snow in Handan.
But she didn't dare to tell him: the price of rebuilding the body was three years of life.
——If you come back from reincarnation, I will become a wisp of smoke in Lishan Mountain. Do you still remember the person who has been "waiting for you" all his life hidden in the secrets of the Terracotta Warriors and Horses?
Purpose: The core purpose of this article is "People who have been forgotten by history books are also worthy of being remembered." History books record emperors, generals, and grand achievements, but those who have truly lived in the gaps in history—a name that has been erased, a soul that has been preserved for two thousand years, a promise that has not been finished—also constitute the weight of history. Su Wan has never been recorded in any official history, but she existed, loved, and waited. The secret of Yingzheng's failure to establish a queen, the story behind the secret memory of the Terracotta Warriors and Horses, and the tokens guarded by the descendants of the three tribes for two thousand years all prove that history is not only about grand narratives, but also about small sincerities that are blown away by the wind but are harder than gold and stone.