Under One Person, The King is the Same Person, four seasons and four volumes, with an open ending.
She is a temporary worker who works everywhere, known as Sister Mian, and is famous for her love of taking naps. He has no other ability than making a stranger's Qi collapse in his hand. The more I swallowed, the slower I recovered. Sometimes I couldn't see, sometimes I couldn't hear, and sometimes my stomach hurt so much that I squatted on the side of the road and couldn't get up. She was used to trading herself for others and never asked who would trade for her.
He is a poor Taoist priest who came down from Wudang Mountain. He eats at a noodle stall, wears an old waistcoat, is good at martial arts, and always says that every step counts. She thought he was just a poor Taoist priest. She didn't know his surname was Wang, she didn't know Fenghou Qimen, and she didn't know that the only person he couldn't predict in his life was her.
In spring, they ate noodles at the same table with two pairs of chopsticks. In the summer, he was on the stage of Luo Tiandajiao, and she was in the audience. In autumn, he traded his freedom for her safety. She cooked a bowl of noodles and he said to take care of herself. In winter, the waistcoat she sewed was still hanging on his wall. There was a key in the secret pocket. He pressed it through the fabric but did not take it out.
Neither of them broke through, neither got closer, nor went far away. He occasionally calls her Sister Mian, just to see her ears turn red.
Three meals, four seasons, one less person.
Whether she comes or not is hers; whether he goes or not is his. He is waiting.
Intention: It is normal to be missing one person, but it is foolish to wait for one person, so be willing to do so