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Agarwood and music, a glass of wine and music. Hope for a lifetime of dreams and a lifetime of fate. Looking back at the fireworks is blurry, and waking up from a dream with bones in pairs. Half a hairpin, a yin and yang hairpin, watching for half a lifetime. A piece of agarwood and a glass of wine will make you forget about the autumn of this world for half a lifetime. Murong He is the only disciple of Jianghu's former disguise master. It is said that a hermit invented the art of disguise a hundred years ago and set a rule: the master of disguise can only accept one disciple in his life. The disciple cannot leave the disciple until the master dies. How many people in the world are eager to find a disguise master and become his only disciple. Murong He was originally an abandoned son with burns on his face. He thought he had been living on the streets since he was a child, and was brought back to the mountain by his master by some strange combination of circumstances. He lived in seclusion for several years and became his only disciple. When he was fifteen years old, his master was assassinated. She became the only disguiser in the world. Traveling to a foreign country to search for the truth, he accidentally found clues to his life experience. Time flies, years change, and grudges are resolved in the world of mortals for thousands of years. On the other side of the Yellow Spring, the Underworld, and the Forgotten River where Manzhushahua blooms, we can realize the old dreams and interpret the legends of the past. --Instead of living drunkenly and dreaming of death, drunkenly dying and dreaming of life, I choose to smile and be proud of the sky. --The law of heaven cannot tolerate me. I am a disaster star coming to this world. You beg me to die, but I insist on living to show you. --You are a powerful person, I am a commoner. After all, we have no chance and will never meet again. --You win, and I will accompany you to rule the world. If you lose, I'll wait for you to make a comeback. --Where the candle shadow flickers, clear tears fall on the paper and become a book. Picking up the pen reminds me of the past, but it is like dreaming back to the past. --On the banks of the Forgotten River, recalling the past, watching the end of the underworld together in this life.