Mu Lingye lay on the couch under the tree in the courtyard and fell asleep, the memories of the two lives intertwined. A gust of breeze came, and a fallen leaf drifted down from the tree, swaying and falling on Mu Lingye's spread-out hair. The man quietly approached, squatted next to the lounge chair, and gently removed the straw for him. Just like when he first met him that year, he was surrounded by a group of people in a corner. His clothes were in tatters and there was blood on his face, but he still stubbornly refused to beg for mercy. He also did the same, removing the straw from his hair and taking him back to the East Palace. In the end, no one can tell whether it was the unrequited love that was due to the unrequited love, or the unrequited love that neglected those years of unrequited love.
Mu Lingye stroked the scar on Si Ningjue's shoulder. It was the injury Si Ningjue sustained while trying to save him when he went to arrest the Tatar spies last year. Mu Lingye was sometimes glad. If he hadn't asked at that time, maybe Mu Lingye would never have remembered that someone had crossed mountains and rivers and passed through the flames to save him desperately. Mu Lingye once felt that he could not love Zhu Jin and was the most pathetic person in the world. However, Si Ningjue, his childhood sweetheart who he could not think of until his death in the previous life, could not love him and was even forgotten. This was nothing.
Intention: Gongdou