In the ninth year of Jiahe, Emperor Qing passed away, leaving behind a painting of a lady that aroused speculation among the world. The woman in the painting had delicate eyebrows, a sweet smile, and was dressed in white clothes. No one remembered who she was, and no one remembered those touching stories.
The dying Emperor Qing recalled his life, taking over the world, but only for that woman, that decisive woman, that woman who made him helpless. When he was eight years old, she gave him half a jade pendant and promised not to marry anyone who was not the king. When he was thirteen, he picked her up, and he thought he would never lose her again. At the age of seventeen, for him, she went to the enemy country alone to do something secretive without telling everyone. In the end, he led his troops to conquer her country. How could the blood-stained country stand up to your charming smile? He said, An'an, this world will be given to you if you want it, as long as you stay.
Is it destiny or calamity? It's fate. Even the heroes who unified the world cannot escape the end of decline. The prosperity and beauty of the world are ultimately just a dream. The moonlight left in the sky shines like flowers like snow.