Twenty years ago, at the Thousand-Year Stone Formation, a cold sword achieved eternal fame and cut off half a lifetime of love.
Twenty years later, under the apricot tree, a sharp blade brought back thousands of memories, and it seemed like the past.
What is love, what is love.
In the arena, there is intrigue and deception, life and death.
Is there really anything more desirable than being "number one in the world"?
Perhaps, when all ashes return to ashes and dust returns to dust,
All achievements, love and hate are left for future generations to comment on.