The cold rain on the green tiles has caused cracks in the bronze mirror that has been wet for three hundred years. An untarnished silver grate is buried under the hidden pile of the Salt Administration Department. When Shen Heng, a government lady, pushed open the royal door of an ancient mansion, her embroidered shoes were crushing the fallen horse bun of the ghost in the mirror - the crescent-colored skirt was entangled with the broken tail and broken strings, and the blood and rust from the corpse case of two Huai Cao silver seeped into her skirt.
On a night when the soul contract burns in the palm of my hand, the baby spirit crawls out of the belly of the piano with a cry. The salt merchant Fu Huizhuo wears an official robe. Is the person dressing up in the bronze mirror a reincarnated soul or an obsession that has not faded? When the blood moon overflows the River of Forgetfulness, and twin flowers blossom from the lotus pattern on the wrists, one realizes that the centuries-old injustice was actually a cross between two ends of a mirror.
In the end, the official robe was stained with the color of the skirt, the silver grate on the stump of the sycamore tree was tilted to pick up the bloody curtain, and the wind chime hanging on the corner of the eaves hung half of the unfinished soul-crossing gatha.
Concept: Two heroines, mutual redemption