"I want to know you and live a long life without end."
Another Zhongyuan. It was slightly cold in late autumn, and the opera ghost who was leaning under the candlelight lowered his head. After a moment, he said lightly: "How can I trust you?"
"There is a god three feet above your head." Song Mingchuan moved the corners of his lips and looked at him steadily.
"Gods? You know in your heart that I have never believed in ghosts and gods." He turned his head and raised his thin lips in a mocking arc, "Now I am just a lonely soul who is following the influence of others. A noble man like you who is sitting on the throne of Zhu Lunhua should have nothing to do with me."
"In your previous life, you were an emperor. It's a pity that fate plays tricks on people, and now it's all fate." As if he was sighing silently, his eyes, which were usually as calm as an ancient pool, were stained with a little emotion.
"As for you and me, the confusing past and present lives are also fate."
……
Mingchuan was lucky enough to be acquainted with a dream in the moonlit night. This time, he said to him: Hell is very cold, and I will save you.
Intention: Ancient Dan
