She took his fan pendant and begged him for the second time. The woman kneeling in front of her was still bare-faced and light-makeup, with picturesque features.
The more he looked at her, the more heartache he felt. He frowned again and again. One hand tightly grasped the armrest of the mahogany chair. The chill on his fingertips suddenly spread all over his body. Finally, his heart hurt so much that he slapped the books on the imperial desk with a wave of his hand.
I only remember that year, by the riverside where peach blossoms were in full bloom, she held spring flowers in her hands and smiled like the warm sun.