The eighteenth son of a man, the seventeenth concubine, they met in their previous lives and formed a marriage contract. However, the moon in the golden boudoir is easy to sink, and Zhu and Chen lose each other before they are reunited.
It's raining lightly and the clouds are so dense that I can't even see the balcony in Wu Gorge. Even if Chu Ke comes in a dream, Wu E may not come out of a flower.
The third life of mourning is bitter and slightly sweet, like the most poisonous love wine in the world. There is no cure and it has been cut off from the throat.
——Written to my beloved, Yang Lijing.