Bai Yuan never thought that a casual hike would throw her into an untimely plum forest.
In late autumn, the mountains are covered with red plum blossoms that are as crazy as fire, and the white plum blossoms are as rustling as snow. It should be a bleak mountain forest, but it is as warm as a deep spring dream. What's even more weird is that there is a manor deep in the plum forest - the Gothic spire crashes into the Chinese plum forest, the bronze door knocker reflects the fallen plum blossoms, and in the empty mansion, only the "Memoirs of a Dead Wife" on the study table glows with old light.
The sheepskin cover is gilded and faded, and the pen writing on the title page is thin and powerful: "In memory of the twenty-seventh plum season of the death of my lover - Isabella"
She turned to the first page and saw the sentence "The day I met Bai Yuan, it was also such a good weather."
The memoir is like a young novel, using young Chinese characters to write the story of a pair of lovers.
Bai Yuan flipped through the pages, seeing how the name "Bai Yuan" ran through the lines, watching Isabella give up everything. For some reason, when she read the last sentence, she felt as if she had experienced this story personally, and there was only sadness in her heart.
Suddenly there was a soft sound in the corridor, and someone opened the study door.
Bai Yuan suddenly raised his head and saw a woman standing at the door of the study, with long silver-gray hair hanging down, and blood-red eyes that were surprisingly bright in the dimness.
Intention: love