Boasting of my charm, I raise my wine cup, fragrance filling my sleeves.
In the jade palace, laughter greets me from every seat, yet I blush.
My golden hairpin remains, as I hide my feelings until our hair turns white.
A half-page of beauty becomes a poem; weary, I comb my hair no more.
Yin Lin's "Prisoner of Love" has always been my favorite classical-style song.
The first time I heard it, this story appeared in my mind. I didn't expect it to fit the song's own blurb so well.
It's really hard to pick tags for this story. So many don't match its style.
If you want to read about aunts and uncles bickering and fighting the heavens, turn left at the door.
A new pit has been opened. All the main characters will appear at the beginning, look forward to it!