In early summer in Luoyang, drizzle washes the begonias. General Li Xiaoce was guarding the border in Liangzhou, and all he left to his wife Su Zhi was a letter from home with dried ink "An Hao". She guarded the empty mansion and hid her thoughts in the scent of medicine and the shadow of the sword, but she didn't know that behind every sentence of "everything goes well" was the silence of his writing while he was on night patrol on the battlefield, pressing against an old wound.
The moon in Liangzhou is like a knife, cutting and missing you. When the Turks sneaked into Luoyang, the disguised refugee sword pointed at Su Zhi's chariot. She swung her sword to cut off the conspiracy, but what slipped from her sleeve was the tiger charm personal guard he secretly sent. Three thousand miles away, Li Xiaoce's military report was pierced by an arrow, and the tail of the arrow was wrapped with Luoyang's fashionable lotus-colored silk ribbon - that was the enemy's most naked provocation.
From the secret letters of the former dynasty in the deep well of Luoyang to the bloody confessions in Chang'an prison, the two of them cut through the fog of power and used brocade books as blades: she painted begonias with cinnabar to hide mysteries, and he mapped the well platform to deliver the killing plan. When Su Zhi walked on the sand in red clothes and rushed to Liangzhou, Li Xiaoce caught her scarred body under the plague-ridden city wall, only to realize that there was unspoken affection in each other's lies.
Intention: ancient words, power strategy