Under the reflection of the overwhelming firelight, the morning sun rises slowly from the eastern sky like an oblate palace lantern, and the thousands of golden scrolls are eclipsed by the orange sky rendered by the firelight. The late spring cold wind carried some drizzle, fearlessly wrapped it into the firelight, and when it was swept out, it was already scalding hot, spreading on the surface as if it would burn people from the bottom of their hearts.
But Yan Qinglan was not afraid. He seemed to have no feeling and still stood there, his body as tall and straight as a pine tree, with only his clothes flying in the wind.
In the spring of March, it is also a good time for sunrise. The always oppressive vermillion lacquer palace gate and the white high wall extending from it seem to be an invisible barrier, cutting the month of March in half. On one side, the warmth of spring is flowing, like tenderness. A young girl with dancing sleeves, a bright purple smile, a brow, soft rain, soft willow branches, and a whisper of swallows; on one side is a sea of fire, with broken bricks and tiles, burning all the dirty things under the golden-roofed tower, including the evil heart and lungs.
Probably no one could still call for help, they were all dead. As for the unjustly dead soul, it is still hovering in the palace, and may come to claim his life.
Yan Qinglan thought.
He stood outside the palace wall and stared at the fire, alone.
The guards and soldiers around him were all taken away, and now he was really alone, standing alone on the land that held all his childhood and youth, standing outside the palace where all his tender memories and overwhelming hatred were buried - he had been standing for almost an hour.
He was holding a broken peach branch in his hand, and there were still a few drops of dried blood on his face, which matched perfectly with the red dress that looked like a wedding dress. Although he was pale and sick, he could not hide his handsome face, revealing a kind of enchanting beauty.
It seemed that he had finally seen enough. He raised his hand and tied the branch with a few peach blossoms in his hair. His face showed the most cheerful smile this year. His usually passionate eyes were slightly raised, especially gentle, looking at the road ahead, as if the love of his life was standing in front of him.
The palace door, which had already been crumbled by the raging fire, was pushed gently and fell to the ground. All the glory and tragedy of the Yan family's Dajing Dynasty were completely wiped out with the loud noise of the red lacquer door falling to the ground.
"Shiro..."
Yan Qinglan stepped into the firelight, dressed in red, with a ray of spring and sin, clean but full of filth, step by step, to find his boy...
————————————————————— (I am the dividing line)
Huo Ting
Do you believe me when I say this is a story I dreamed about, but it's really true, haha!
Intention: I have always wanted to fall in love in my past life, this life, and the two lifetimes. Why is it so difficult?