He may never forget the moment she took off her half-silver mask. A woman is not embroidering and playing the piano in her boudoir, but she is holding a sharp sword and wearing a military uniform to avenge her father and brother. His deepest memory of her was that indifferent look back at her with a smile.
But if she hadn't met him, she wouldn't have gone so smoothly. But if she hadn't met him, she would have endured it for the rest of her life until she was strong enough to achieve nirvana and fly.
He, a loyal prince, Zhao Yu, was a high-altitude god, but she was a mortal. He had something she never had, and she was burdened with something he could not predict.
When she looked at him and called out "Xiaoyu", the frosty man in blue smiled warmly.
From now on, she doesn't have to shuttle among those seemingly kind-hearted people, and she doesn't have to wear the black brocade dress that has been with her for half her life. She can also hold the hand of the person she likes and make the most beautiful memories in Jiangnan.
And Bai Shanshan, that pure and lovely woman, could also sit beside Sima Yulong and watch the flowers bloom and fall.