Short story
Eight hundred years ago, he and I pledged our love beneath an osmanthus tree. He plucked a sprig of osmanthus and tucked it into my hair as a token of our betrothal. Later, he forged it into a spiritual sword, imbuing it with a trace of his divine sense so it could protect me when he wasn't by my side.
Eight hundred years later, just because someone said he liked my sword, he snatched it away and gave it to someone else.
[Please note]
The gong is not Qin Yue.
The shou will meet someone who truly cares for him.
There will be a few love-triangle showdowns in this story.
The shou: If I don't love you anymore, then I don't love you anymore. I turn them down decisively.
Theme: You will always meet someone in this world who loves you
