At that time, I was still relying on my iron fist to defeat the little bully of Jiangdu who no one in the world dared to marry;
At that time, Wang Qiran was still a poor motherless child of Wang Ermazi, a tofu seller in the alley;
At that time, Yang Lian was still an orphan who had been exterminated and changed hands several times but no one adopted him.
Days are like the plum wine on the third day of March, the sweet-scented osmanthus cake made by grandma, or the warm bean curd made by Wang Jigang,
There is no revenge, no separation between life and death, and no... Deep-seated love...