"When I touch cultural relics, blood from my past life oozes from my fingertips."
Late at night in Chang'an, the gilt copper sachet No. 1111 Was unearthed from the unknown ruins.
It was accidentally injured, so it was carefully escorted to my workbench, where it was planned to be displayed in a special exhibition a month later.
However, when I put on the white gloves and touched it, assistant Xiao Zhou only saw me staggering back, but he couldn't see the scene reflected in my eyes - the raging fire engulfed Zhenyuan General Pei Nuan's camp. He stood in the firelight and sneered, drank the poisonous wine and fell to the ground.
When curator Pei Huaishu passed by and helped me, the string of Buddhist beads on his wrist broke.
So hot.
Fragments from thousands of years ago filled my brain like poisonous fog. I only knew that every time I touched these ancient objects, I was getting closer to the story behind the painting.
One day later, under the fiber optic light, the birthmark on Pei Huaishu's right wrist bloomed like an eternal flower, and he murmured:
"I am someone who lives in the cracks of history."
At that moment, I suddenly saw clearly:
Pei Nuan deliberately drank poisonous wine, while I committed suicide under the military flag in my wedding clothes.
The so-called treason and surrender is actually a trap he set up with his body; the so-called special powers are just that in the reincarnation of life, he is always waiting for me, and so am I.
Intention: Past and present lives, but regrets