In the spring of March, the spring breeze is warm, the spring water is as clear as blue, and there are sparkling waves. The green willow branches on the shore are gently swaying in the intoxicating breeze. On her cheeks, she looked back with smiling eyes at the handsome man in white and red clothes standing under the peach blossom tree, holding a green and transparent jade flute in his hand, and smiled sweetly: "Brother Huayao, come here."
"To this day, I haven't figured out whether the word 'no' that my mother-in-law said before her death meant not to take revenge or not to be sad." Hua Yao murmured, his eyes as dim as a deep ancient pool, looking past the falling peach blossoms, past the layers of thick palace walls, and looking into the distance. His tall and straight figure was shrouded in thick sadness, looking so fragile.