Many years later, Meng Jiuge often thought of Lu Zhiyou in the misty and rainy days in the south of the Yangtze River. Those youthful scenes that were gone forever, the laughter and laughter of the past, were like the misty wind, leaving no trace. And Yi Xiuyuan is the cinnabar in her heart, which she cannot see through and hates so much that she can never get rid of it...