"Brother Chengyu, you said that honeysuckle survives the winter without withering. Can we do the same and never be apart from each other year after year?"
"Yeah, forever..."
... ...
"All the remaining members of the Shen family will be executed!"
... ...
"A good honeysuckle never withers." She stabbed the broken hairpin into her palm, and the overwhelming hatred flowed down her palm along with the blood. In a trance, she saw the young man raising his sword to cut through the air. Where the sword pointed, the peach blossoms in the sky became paper money for memorial.
Concept: Emotion under power