Everyone said that Linlancang's birth was a disaster, a disaster, and a divine punishment.
So what if he is the flesh and blood of the Tanglin sect leader, an illegitimate son, whose birth bears the blood debt of three lives.
His mother's, his father's.
Also, his father's honest and dull confidant.
The poor man who was seduced, cheated, and had his beloved wife taken away by his father, and became a bloody flower under the sword.
Blood debts must be paid with blood.
The autumn wind suddenly picks up and brings a cool feeling. A cold and dilapidated ancestral hall, a pair of white and thin hands, and a bowl of warm white porridge. The dirty orphan who stole the tribute was despised by thousands of people and beaten by thousands of people, and Lin Lancang was taken home.
The red maples were in full swing that year.
Cangshan is covered with snow, and wine is poured into the lonely grave. Qiuci knelt on the gravel floor, the blood stains were hidden by the flying snow, and his waist was three feet deep. Tears fell like snow, and the fishy smell rose in his throat. No one asked him if he was cold or if he was in pain. No one held an umbrella to look for him and took his hand back.
"It's okay, Lancang. I'll hold your grave and you won't be cold anymore."
She doesn't mean what she says, but she is calm on the surface but has a violent heart.
(Rebirth Literature)————
In the ending, the knife and candy are 50/50
Intention: I don't know