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A song of red plum blossoms falling, a dance that breaks people's hearts, The beauty of the country is stunning, and the dancing clothes are so delicate that they fly by like the wind. Hua Xumu died in the arms of the person she had loved and hated her whole life. Before darkness strikes, She originally thought she would hate and complain, I hate his ruthlessness and power, I blame myself for my persistence and willfulness, Of course, it was not the case, but what echoed in her mind was the nursery rhyme her mother sang softly when she was a child. It was as warm as the spring sun, melting the ice-wrapped heart bit by bit, making her remember that she had been happy.