When the Peach Blossoms Fade

At thirteen, I drew my sword and cut open his outer robe, then pointed at the small red mole on his neck. "Come on, have this eyesore of a mole cut out for me!" At sixteen, Father died, and Jingde held me hostage to seize the throne. The ministers panicked, but Wuneng alone stayed calm and clearheaded. He gripped his sword, pointing it at our side. At seventeen, the guards brought him, dead drunk, into the court during my wedding ceremony. "Wuneng, how does this garlic juice taste?" I knew how much he hated garlic juice, so every day when he came to court, I rewarded him with a bowl. "To answer Your Highness, the Crown Prince, it tastes good." He lowered his eyes and smiled, wiping his lips with his sleeve. I dedicate this story to Jingjing, who has supported me ever since I started writing. Theme: