Seven hundred years ago, he broke off a flower branch and pinned it in her hair. He said, "I would like to be with you for the rest of my life."
This was an oath he made with his own mouth, and it was also an oath he broke with his own hands.
Seven hundred years later, she stood in front of him with the dignity of a god, saluted him with a smile, and with a calm look on her face, she said: "Feng Heng of the Feng Clan, see the Emperor of Donghua, the Emperor Wan'an."
She didn't know, how could he be safe without her being around?
The flowers in the forest have faded their spring reds, it's too hasty, and the cold rain comes in the morning and the wind comes in the evening. Tears of rouge leave people drunk, how long will it last? Naturally, life grows and hates water.
The water of the Forgotten River, the fire of Nirvana, what can be forgotten is love, what cannot be forgotten is the obsession that goes deep into the bones.
She thought that in their long life, they had missed too much and made too many mistakes. If he could come back, if they could do it all over again, she would definitely tell him the promise she carved on the flower raft:
"I just hope that I will be happy with you every day until death."