Another year. In early spring, the ice and snow in the mountains gradually melt and flow into the Qianchuan River.
How many secrets buried for thousands of years will be revealed again and disappear along the long river of history. Those shouts lost in the billowing smoke, who still remembers whose name, and who is playing the flute and sighing at the head of the dragon - a hundred years of spring and autumn.
This is just a story that spans more than ten years. Ten years - too important for a person's life; too short for a thousand years of history.
Is there really any absolute right or wrong in this world? Is he a killer who punishes evil and promotes good, or a robber who robs the rich and gives to the poor? The court where you enter and I retreat, the bloody rivers and lakes, are we really separated from each other forever?
When they first entered the world, they were tenacious and ignorant. Looking at the long journey, their hearts were so beautiful, just like the prosperous Chang'an of this era. They grew up and experienced in the wind and rain, but they got lost again and again and disappeared. When everything disappeared, looking back, it was just a fleeting moment. They have amazed the years and witnessed this most prosperous history.
"We have walked the agreed road together. No matter whether we have been together for thousands of miles, it is just to say goodbye."
Many years later, he still smiled and said: "This is fate, fate."