Through the ages, I paid Shaohua, the peach blossoms were gone, and I chanted Jia Jia. When we meet again, I have put on wedding clothes for others. Mu Yu, you often say that the blood-stained mountains and rivers, the picturesque scenery, are no match for the cinnabar between my brows, nor the red glow of the phoenix. Does it look good?
She, Mugaluo, is the 20th generation descendant of Nuwa in South Vietnam and the descendant of the Witch Queen. He has been guarding southern Xinjiang for two hundred years, has mastered the ice spiritual power, and contains the Holy Spirit Bead in his body. Meeting him was the love disaster of her life, and she couldn't escape it.
Him, Qin Muyu. The ninth prince of the Ming Dynasty only believed that there was love in this world when he met her. Faced with the enemy's conspiracy, only she can touch the soft part in her heart.
Wu Chenyu: "That guy only treats A Luo well and gets angry when others get close to A Luo. Hey, if it weren't for her, A Luo would be my queen."
Mu Feiluan: "Dad is so abominable. He left me alone in Dali. I will fight to the end for my mother."
No matter how loyal love is, it will face intrigues, temptations of power, secret alienation, and identity crossing. Give up or watch. Lovers who suffer from love do not blame each other for not persisting a little bit more and believing a little bit more.
Some love is like a paper kite with its string cut off, with a sad ending. Some hate is like a circle, with no end to the grievances. He and she, one is responsible for the world, and the other is full of tricks. In the game of love, each other is a loser, just a lifelong concern. Looking back, a prosperous and prosperous age, but the two hearts are so far apart.