Although the golden handle whisk is a dead thing, it has become a matchmaker, huh~
The spring is warm and the apricots are small. Taoist priests drink and enjoy themselves.
Who would have expected that he would not be able to be free and easy, he would become a madman at a glance, and he would be eaten to death by the general. In an act of infatuation, he exchanged two lives of luck for the general's life.
The wind and smoke cross the ferry, and the whisks calm the soul.
In the second life, we forgot each other and made a hasty knot.
Things happened between the two of them, and their marriage was not over.
The golden-handled whisk accidentally became a matchmaker (always?). Although the past life was not perfect, now they join hands again, sit and lie in the same place, and renew their relationship.