She knelt down on the futon, with the sandalwood around her filling her nostrils, and the clear crisp sound of wooden fish lingering in the cold spring mountain temple. The deep and shallow wrinkles on her face were completely inconsistent with her natural temperament. The old woman straightened up, standing gracefully, and looked at the distant imperial capital. At this time, in the imperial city, in the political hall, behind the beaded curtain, a graceful and beautiful woman was reclining on the imperial concubine's couch, her phoenix eyes slightly narrowed, not angry and intimidating, giving people an invisible pressure. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked in the direction of the temple. The two eyes met in the air, and a drop of crystal tears fell from the old woman's face. The corners of the beautiful woman's mouth were raised, but there was bitterness in her smile.
People often say that the future is long, but she knows that there will be no future for her.