The lights in Yanxin Pavilion are always on until late at night. Song Yanshen twisted the rice paper with his fingertips, and the candlelight danced on the remaining pages of "Wangyou Chess Book", much like the moonlight on the tip of Shen Jue's gun when he broke into the yard. "Sir, I'm delivering something for Master." The young man's shoulders were still stained with dew from the mountains, but his eyes were burning brighter than a candle. He didn't see the writer's hand holding the pen, and paused on the last stroke of the word "Shou".
When Zhiweizhai's lanterns swayed across the bluestone road, Wen Zhiyi was always at the third lantern from the count - where there should be a figure carrying a gun. Lin Ye once said, "No matter how far the escort journey is, I will come back before the sweet-scented osmanthus falls." She embroidered this sentence into the interlayer of the peace charm, and the stitches were filled with the canal wind. It wasn't until one day that the lamp broke into pieces of silver on the dock, that she buried the seventh jar of rice wine under the sweet-scented osmanthus tree, with half an unfinished silver hairpin pressed against the mouth of the jar.
The sword of the Shadow Pavilion is hidden in the mist and rain, Wei Yong's secret letter is soaked in the blue grass juice, and someone is holding a lamp in the dark night, waiting for a return person, waiting for a snowstorm, waiting for the secret words in the chess game to grow into a sword that pierces the darkness.
When Shen Jue's spear hit Ying Ge's blade, when Song Yanshen's ink drops penetrated the folds of the secret letter, and when Wen Zhiyi dug out the annotation of "Trap Door" from the military book, they finally understood:
The so-called holding the lamp is not to wait for the gods to show mercy, but to be afraid that you will have nowhere to look for warmth when walking at night; the so-called waiting is not to waste time in vain, but to know that you will come, so I kept the lamp and waited to become a monument at the entrance of the alley.
The water in the canal is still flowing, and the lights in Yanxin Pavilion are still on. Someone came back from the rain and waved a lantern at the entrance of the alley. "Sir, I'm back."
Intention: No matter what happens, there will always be someone holding a light for you