In the covered walkway, every inch holds longing; the setting moon leaves me standing alone.
With my back to the lamp, beneath the moon and among the flowers, ten years have passed, and my heart has remained unchanged.
In the nine-year script, Cunxin's heart was only an inch wide, and she gave it all to her second brother.
Some say that Cunxin matured over the course of her thousand-year marriage. If she had realized earlier that she would have to part from him at the West Sea, she and her second brother could have lived happily ever after.
But I support another interpretation. Cunxin has always been the same Cunxin, a princess who gave her entire one-inch heart to Yang Jian and would disregard even herself for his sake.
I have always envied and admired this woman. Only someone who has been cherished since childhood could have such pride and abandon, such courage to fly into the flames and risk everything.
Yang Jian, if I gave you a Cunxin who cared about the world and held all its people in her heart, would that satisfy you? [That's right, in the early part of this story, Cunxin's infatuation fades, and Second Brother suffers a bit. But it must have a happy ending.]
