Xiao Wangshu picked up a young man from the desert prison car.
Barefoot and undressed, wrapped in iron chains, a cinnabar mole at the corner of his eye is as bright as blood.
Everyone said that this was the sharpest weapon of the royal family, numbered Gengshen Seventy-Nine, and should be destroyed on the spot.
Wang Shu remembered the child who held on to his armor in the sea of fire in Nanzhao eleven years ago.
He resisted the decree and kept the man, named him "Shiwei", taught him how to read and gave him warmth.
Until the night of the new moon, the young man drank blood from his wrist to relieve the pain, and tears mixed with blood flowed down:
"Weapons... Can't hurt."
Wang Shu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth: "It's okay with me."
Later, when the border was at war and the country was declining, he unleashed all his powers and slaughtered all his pursuers. When he was about to die, he murmured:
"In the next life... Find me as soon as possible."
Wangshu knelt in the snow and swore: "There is no next life. In this life, you must live and love me."
But he doesn't know——
From the day the sword was forged, the blade always pointed at him.
The moment it pierced his heart, Shiwei was finally able to say:
"Look, I've fallen in love with you a long time ago."
Intention: It's better to be a good person
