There was no one in the palace to take care of the red roses climbing the palace wall, and they were tremblingly producing small fruits. The two children were nestled under the tree. The younger child always seemed to have a layer of mist in his eyes. The older one knitted the garland in his hands in a more mature way. Afterwards, he gently put it on his sister and sighed: "Hey, crying is so ugly, use the garland to cover it up." It was another uneasy day in Qingwan Palace. Outside the palace wall, every time a handsome young man in white clothes passes by this place, he always stops to look at the flowers sticking out of the wall, and throws the letter in his hand regardless of the eyes of others.
Even he doesn't know the secrets hidden in his heart when he was young. Perhaps when his heart is strong enough, when the blood-red wounds no longer heal, and when two people are willing to be honest with each other, the proud young man will be willing to face his own feelings.