The man looked at me, exuding a touch of sadness, but more importantly, he could not conceal his domineering and nobility. His gorgeous robes swayed gently in the wind, and he stared at me with deep eyes and profound artistic conception. He lowered his hand, and blood dripped on the green grass. Even I felt the pain. He still looked at me, as if the seasons were constantly changing between us.
After a long time, he slowly said, "You are my princess." Then he turned around and rode away. Years later, this picture and this sentence always make me feel pain. Maybe it's because of the pain that it feels real...
When I was seventeen years old, I was the eleventh most favored princess of my father. I met him and became his queen in marriage. The love stained with blood and hatred made us fear each other, and curses came one after another...
Intention: