Three hundred and fifty years ago, Ling Yunding.
Two young men of similar age were among the water-spirited flowers. One was more calm, sitting under a flower tree, holding a volume of book, and was concentrating on it. The other seemed to be more active, walking under the flower trees, covered with blue petals.
For many years to come, the aloof and lonely puppet master would still sigh with emotion when he thought back on it.
There has never been such a peaceful moment in my life.
The puppet master Ye Xin has only done one big thing in his life, and it was big enough to be known to all the six worlds.
The Linglong dynasty collapsed, followed by his death.
But he has never been unwilling or regretful.