Su Tao had lived for more than thirteen hundred years.
Some called her a peach blossom demon, others a peach blossom immortal. She didn't care either way. After all, there was no clear boundary between demons and immortals.
She had traveled to many places, seen countless sights and beauties, and drunk plenty of strong liquor.
The actor in blue said, "Su Tao, if you don't come back, I'll stay in the play forever."
The benevolent physician said, "As long as you're by my side, I won't kill anyone."
The upright Taoist said, "A demon like you can only stop causing trouble if I keep you by my side."
Su Tao looked at them and thought they were ridiculous.
Who didn't know that the Peach Blossom Immortal of Zhaoling had no heart?
She was a bad person, bad to the core. Selfish and cunning, cold and arrogant. But Su Tao never admitted to being fickle in love.
In the past thousand years, everyone she met had carried a shadow of him.
"The year he left, he planted a peach tree with his own hands."
Su Tao picked up a petal and placed it at the corner of her eye. Beside her eyes, clear as autumn waters, the soft, brilliant red looked like a tear that had not yet dried.
"Now it stands tall, its crown spread wide."
So a few months passed