He called her Wan'er,
He called her Wanwan,
He called him Wan.
In this life, is it sad love or hurt feelings?
What is it that shook the hearts of a generation of emperors?
What is it that broke the meaning of a generation of poets?
I have no idea.
You don't know either.
Maybe even they themselves don't know.
Just look at Shen Wan, leaning on the railing after the love tragedy is still spectacular...
A dream-like life looking back on the Qing Dynasty, a farce-like journey. A smile looking back in dim light, a deep aftertaste that hurts to the point of bleeding.