In a corner of the bustling capital, Qin Yue and Lin Zhao, the thread of fate tightly entwined them. Qin Yue is the eldest son of General Zhenyuan. He has a tall and straight figure, sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes. He has been honed in the army since he was a child. He has a heroic demeanor with coldness and decisiveness, like a sharp sword unsheathed. He is the pride of heaven in the eyes of everyone. Lin Zhao, on the other hand, is the frail and sickly youngest son of the Minister of Rites, with a thin figure, a warm and bookish look between his brows and eyes, and a reserved and sensitive personality, like a wisp of ink in the spring breeze.
They met at a spring poetry gathering. Lin Zhao was chanting in a low voice in the pavilion. Qin Yue happened to pass by and was attracted by his delicate talent. After that, the two gradually got closer, and their friendship grew inadvertently. Qin Yue would sneak into Lin's study after training and talk with Lin Zhao about the past and present; Lin Zhao would personally sew a peace sachet for Qin Yue before he went on an expedition, and thousands of words could be said in those fine stitches.
Time passed quietly, and their feelings became deeper and deeper over the years. However, things did not go as planned, and the border war was tense, so Qin Yue had to rush to the battlefield. Before leaving, he held Lin Zhao's hand tightly and said, "When I come back, I will promise you a peaceful life." Lin Zhao nodded with tears in his eyes, looking forward to his lover's early triumph.
But this wait is three years. The border war was stalemate, and Qin Yue fought bloody battles on the battlefield, narrowly missing death several times. In the capital, Lin Zhao's life was not easy. His family was implicated in the factional strife in the court, and fell from the clouds to the bottom overnight. What used to be a crowded place is now deserted. Lin Zhao was weak and suffered such a blow, and his health deteriorated.
Three years later, Qin Yue finally returned victorious. However, what greeted him was not the smile of his lover, but the news that Lin Zhao was seriously ill. He rushed to the Lin Mansion in a hurry, and when he saw Lin Zhao lying ill in bed, his heart felt like it was being torn apart. Lin Zhao looked at Qin Yue, his eyes full of nostalgia and despair, "A Yue, I'm afraid I won't be able to wait for our future..." Qin Yue hugged Lin Zhao tightly, his voice trembling, "No, I will definitely find the best doctor to cure you."
But fate seems not to let them go. Lin Zhao's condition worsened day by day, and he drank numerous decoctions, but did not see any improvement. Qin Yue stayed by the bed day and night, watching his lover struggling in pain, and his heart was as sharp as a knife.
On a snowy night, Lin Zhao's life came to an end. Qin Yue held his increasingly cold hand tightly, tears streaming down her face. "Azhao, how could you leave me..." But no matter how he called, Lin Zhao would never respond.
After that, although Qin Yue still roamed the court, he was like a walking corpse. Every night, he would dream of Lin Zhao's smile, but when he woke up, he would only face endless loneliness and pain. The ambition and pride that he had once vanished into nothing the moment Lin Zhao left, leaving only a heart riddled with holes...
Intention:, leaving only a heart riddled with holes...