In the 23rd year of Ming Dynasty, the snow has fallen for ten years, and love and hate have meandered among the blue bricks for ten years.
Xiao Yunzhao, the most noble Princess Zhaoyang of Dayong. The tear mole on the corner of her left eye was once praised by her father as a sign of good luck for a hundred years, but later it became a mark of her damnation in hell.
When she was seven years old, she chased white butterflies and fell into the arms of ambergris. Her brother carried her and flew a kite over the palace wall. The boy secretly stuffed sweet-scented osmanthus cakes under the grape trellis. At that time, the wind was filled with the fragrance of honey, but she could not see that the honey had already gone bad, and all she could smell was the lingering fragrance...
To be continued…
Intent: In the ultimate game of power, true love is the victim. Individuals' overly persistent pursuit eventually blinds their eyes. Love and trust have long been alienated under the influence of human nature.
