Ten years ago, he came across the water and held her hand. At that time, he was a famous scholar in the south of the Yangtze River, and she was a pampered and noble princess.
Ten years later, he came to the city and grabbed her throat. At this time, he was the emperor of the world, and she was a prisoner who fell from the clouds.
Emperor Qi Heng of the Northern Qi Dynasty stood with his hands behind his back. In front of him, ten steps away, was a kneeling woman in linen clothes with long hair stuck to the ground. The hem of her clothes was covered with mud and blood stains.
The official's voice stopped, and he held the jade silk in his hand and respectfully raised it above his head.
Qi Hengyou stood by himself. No one dared to speak for a while. He could only hear the whistling wind. He frowned and asked the waiter beside him: "What did you hear?"
The chamberlain was puzzled, listened carefully, and replied: "Your Majesty, there is only the sound of wind."
No, it was the sound of a piano, intermittent and faint, as if carried by the wind from a very far distance, and the broken whisper of a woman.
I wish to win the heart of one person and never be separated.