In short, deep love doesn't last long, and those who push too far invite humiliation. The modest young lady is gentle and warm as jade.
Yet all she knows is that these mountains and rivers are like fine wine, worthy of a toast to a tenderness beyond compare, one that lasts until death.
But what can be done? At dusk on an autumn day, she cooks green tea with chrysanthemum, and both the people and the crabapple blossoms grow drunk.
The story, the blurb, and the title are three different things. A sweet little story of domestic intrigue in a matriarchal society, updated irregularly.
Theme: A feeling unlike any other lingers in the heart.
It's really well written, please update it.