A true princess, a poem of empire.
Blood and tears, love and betrayal, beauty in the flames of war.
Knives and swords, family affection and power, how to choose?
"I always thought I chose the palace, but the palace did not choose me."
"My heart has died a long time ago. It can't love you or hate you. If you want to blame it, it can only be because our fate is too shallow. After all, we can't grow old together." Chang Ning hugged him as he hugged himself. Tears flowed down freely, soaking his clothes.
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I have been thinking about this story for a long time, starting and stopping it several times. I don't know where my thoughts will take me, and which way to write is a question that has troubled me for a long time. In the past two years, I have written tens of thousands of words intermittently. Sometimes it is a time travel article, and sometimes it becomes a classical Chinese article. But I never gave up, and the friends around me contributed a lot.
Changning comes from the pillow stories that I usually chop up with my friend Hu Zou. At first, there were many traces of deliberate imitation. Later, I gradually grew up and understood a truth: everyone's life has different highlights, and everyone has different ways of telling stories. I just need to be myself, that's enough.
I will write this article quickly and publish it slowly, about a dozen W words.
I wish you all a happy reading!