At that time, the palace was heavily guarded, but he never called himself a "little man".
In the palace, there is a gentle breeze as a companion, a bright moon as a companion, and there is him.
Often dressed in white, she would stand in the moonlight, smiling slightly, as graceful as a banished immortal.
If the world is no longer what it used to be, it doesn't matter if the mountains and rivers are broken, as long as he is still where he is, that's fine.
Yang Zixiang laughed softly.
Conception: