In the late autumn of that year, a red lotus grew in the pond of Gaofeng Pavilion, and mist curled around the cold stone steps. The red lotus was heartbreakingly beautiful in the long wind and bright moon. People who had seen it said that the red lotus was like the flame of a phoenix's rebirth, burning alone on the high wind platform halfway up the mountain.
That was the year when the new emperor ascended the throne and the new queen was enthroned. The new king ordered the Gaofeng Pavilion to be rebuilt.
I remember the clear look in that woman's eyes that day when I first met her. In early spring, under the swaying branches of Albizia julibrissin, she held a pot of Huadiao wine, her brows filled with a look of indifference, and she tilted her head and smiled at him.
She paused and smiled with a graceful smile: "I will be alone forever."
He laughed out loud, but felt extremely complete.