I was forced to marry Xiao Zhi, the tycoon of the Northern Territory, with poison and secret messages in mind.
As the sedan jolted across the border, the desolate songs of the Northern Xinjiang Army came from the distance, and I touched the dagger in my piano bag.
On the same night, he raised his hijab and chuckled: "Madam's nails are stained with cinnabar, like blood."
I pressed my fingertips on the strings and pushed the poisoned wine to him.
He raised his head and drank it all, but held my trembling hand: "You played the song "Phoenix Seeking Phoenix" wrong in three places."
Later, I became his sharpest knife, and wherever the sound of the piano came, it was his territory.
Until that day when the city tower faced off, my father and brother's arrows pierced my bones.
When the blood stained the strings of the piano, I heard Xiao Zhi roaring in front of the tens of thousands of troops:
"If she dies, I want the Southern Dynasty to never have any more eggs!"
But he didn't know that the unsent secret letter in my arms read:
"The weak point of Xiong Xiong's heart is the best time to kill him."
Intention: Wrong marriage