My name is Bu Xian. I don't envy either mandarin ducks or immortals. I am the most famous bounty hunter in the world of Dacheng. I walked through the spring rain of Lin'an, visited the old alleys of Jiangnan, and saw the solitary smoke in the desert. I returned to Chang'an just to see the prosperous dream of Dacheng and the clear sky of the young prince.
On the day of his triumphal return, the ten-mile Chang'an Road was boiling with spring, and the red and green colors were filled with thousands of smoke and dust behind him. He was the crown prince of Dacheng, the legitimate son of Empress Sheng, and a young general. At the age of seventeen, he wore a sword and armor, bowed deeply in front of the Jiaotai Hall, and led the Dacheng cavalry through the gates. There is a sentence written in thick ink in the history books: "Young Master Yu led the army and won a great victory at Zhongmenguan", but it does not say that the sun was boiling and the flowers were knocking on the window and the incense was blowing on the grid. When he pressed the bridle and returned to Daci Palace, the strong spring sun poured down on his whole body.
The first time I met the prince was in this spring. At that time, I had just traveled north from Suzhou and settled in Chang'an. I rode a young horse at full speed and rushed past his uniform guard of honor with great fanfare. I was only a few feet away from him, but I could still hear a clear and crisp voice in his ears, "Chang'an has a good spring, and the light is bright. Your Highness, the prince, is full of youthful spirit."
But Xin Xin was mute. His Highness, who had always been stern and stern, lowered his eyelashes, and the shadows of his eyelashes reflected in his eyes, making even his voice mute.
He smiled so low that it was almost transparent, "Really?"
But he is not this young man Mingguang.
Intention: Love and hate in the country are all trapped in fate