That year, he was an unruly body in the ice and snow;
That year, she was a smart face among the beautiful rivers and mountains;
It was his determination that led to the chill of that winter; it was her bright eyes that melted the ice in the wind and snow; it was his coldness that was engraved in the memory of her heart forever; it was her exquisiteness that poured into the eternal pain in his heart. . . . . .
Many years later, he is a young general with a sharp sword in his hand, for hatred and for her;
Many years later, she is a tender princess with beautiful cars and beautiful things. She does it for her family and for love. . . . . .
How to continue our story when we meet in a familiar place. . . . . .