After his father died, the family was like a candle in the wind, swaying for a few times before finally being extinguished.
In order to earn a living, save a life, and the only way to survive, he chose to join the palace as a servant. The day when his mother sent him away from his hometown, the autumn rain was like silk, and she only asked him to live in the harem and save himself.
But he had a troublesome face.
The beloved concubine played him as a chess piece, and he was proud and unyielding, with his back as straight as a bamboo pole. The woman sneered, waved her hand, and actually sent him to the East Palace - to Prince Xiao Chengji, the son of his mortal enemy the Queen of the Middle Palace, as an attendant.
She thought it was a knife thrust into the prince's heart.
Little did he know, there was an old relationship tied to the handle of the knife.
It was raining in the East Palace that night, and he stood on the porch in plain clothes, like a white pear blown by the wind, the petals trembling, as if they would break if touched. Xiao Chengji only glanced at it, and the wolf hair was hanging in the air in his hand, and the ink soaked half of the rice paper.
That heart, I don't know when, has been quietly resting somewhere else.
"A scholar cannot be without Hongyi. You deserve the word 'Yi'. From now on, I will call you Hongyi."
There is a solitary lantern in the east palace, and the music and harp are at the controls, so it's all quiet and peaceful.
Later, when Xiao Chengji ascended the throne, the throne was not yet warm, and the Queen Mother took power, and the harem was filled with swords and swords. He accompanied him from the East Palace to the Xuanluan Palace, from a young boy to thousands of miles of mountains and rivers, stepping on the tip of a knife every step of the way.
But after all, he couldn't accompany him to Baishou.
"I have the world, but I only want you." Xiao Chengji's eyes were as dark as ink, "If this country cannot keep you, I will go into the coffin with you."
"Then I will be an immortal lamp on His Majesty's road to hell."
——These thousands of miles of rivers and mountains are not as good as a drop of rain on your temples.
Philosophy: The imperial power presses the body, love and hate are difficult to choose, two people learn trust and redemption between machinations and sacrifice.
