The fragrant shadows on the temples are reflected in dawn and dreams, and the love stories are countless.
It's almost spring on the road, and it's dusk when the dust is all wet.
The man's ghostly and unpredictable eyes fell on me. Without opening his lips, he faintly uttered the bewitching voice just now: "You... Have even forgotten me, Yama?". . .
The 7-year-old boy endured the pain and stared at me carefully, with piercing eyes as if looking at his only treasure. He looked slightly surprised and then said with a smile, "Can the fourth child talk?" . .
Leng Ziye said gently: "I heard that you have been filled with the fragrance of flowers since you were born. It is true. Now that you are sold to my family, you will be a slave of my Leng family for life. I, the master, will give you the name Xiangnu. What do you think?" . .
"How many times have I told you not to call me master when we are two people? It seems awkward." Young Master Leng turned his head and stared at me with gleaming black eyes and said sternly: "We have been together for so many years, are we still masters and slaves? In my heart, I am afraid that no woman in this world can compare with you." . .
During the Qinglong period of the Rui Dynasty, people who were struggling and displaced in the torrent of history performed a series of love, hate and hatred. All these causes and consequences, life after life, are nothing more than the origin and destruction of love, true love and infatuation. . .