That year, pear blossoms were flying, and she fell into his arms like an elf falling into the mortal world...
That year, snowflakes were flying, and she fell into his heart like an innocent fairy...
That year, she ignorantly bumped into everyone's sight, and then disappeared silently. Looking back again, it seemed that she was not her, and the layers of mist made people unable to stop...
The gentle and jade-like second brother, the elegant and handsome prince, the charming and charming Seventh King... Who is she looking at in those strange and familiar people?
Uncles and nephews fight, father and son are separated, brothers fall into each other's traps, and the world is in turmoil. Why should she become their bargaining chip and target?
Who softly promised to take her away from the troubles of the world, who gently embraced her to warm her heart, who held her hands tightly and said never to let go...
That year, pear blossoms were stained with blood, and snowflakes were stained with blood. Who was pressing forward step by step? Who pushed her into the cliff?
A pillow on a yellow beam, sleeves dyed red with tears, carved jade railings and beautiful face, holding a sharp blade, smiling indifferently, whose heart do you want to stab?