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As dusk fell, the heavy sound of dusk drums came from the direction of the imperial city, one after another, like a dull knife cutting into people's hearts. The sixty-year-old Xiao Yi was sitting in the main hall of the General's Mansion, which was too empty. His figure was still as tall and tall as in the past, but the heavy murderous aura in his body was eventually worn away by the years and settled into a stone-like silence. The bronze auspicious beast incense burner in the corner of the hall has long been cold, and the wisps of warmth have been driven away by the cold air of late winter. Outside the window, another snow fell silently, and the fine snow powder swirled, gently and cruelly covering the withered grass and trees in the courtyard, and covering the past that had been buried deeply by time. He seemed to hear the sound of horse hooves crushing the glacier deep in his memory.

In the end, do you really love this person, or do you still have that obsession?

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