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Song Yunchu had been the legitimate daughter of the General's Mansion for fifteen years, and was favored by his brother Song Jinye for fifteen years. Everyone knows that Song Jinye, the young general of Zhenbei who has been known as the Jade Faced Yama, is decisive and ruthless in killing, but he is afraid of speaking too loudly to this little sister. Until a secret letter revealed the truth - she was not a bloodline of the Song family, and the real daughter of the Song family was someone else. Everyone thought that she would fall from the clouds into the mire. But Song Jinye just took her away, lowered his head and kissed the tears from the corners of her eyes, his voice was so gentle that it was so gentle: "Not sister, just what I want."

In the winter of the third year of Yongchang, Su Qiaoyi picked up a man in a mass grave. She is an orphan girl in the mountains. She makes a living by collecting firewood and lives in a shabby firewood house at the foot of the mountain. People in the village called her "woodcutter girl" and said she deserved to be a widower because she was destined to be a widower. She didn't argue, she just carried a basket of firewood up the mountain every day. When she passed the mass graves, she would burn a few pieces of yellow paper for the unknown corpses. It was snowing heavily that day, and she found him next to a new grave. He was covered in blood, the stab wound on his back was so deep that the bones were visible, and he still held a half-cut knife in his hand. She knelt down and felt for her pulse - her pulse was so chaotic that it looked like she was possessed by something crazy, but the foundation was still there. She dragged the man home For three months, he didn't tell him where he came from, and she didn't ask. He helped her put the chopped firewood into neat piles, and she taught him how to identify wild vegetables and poisonous mushrooms in the mountains. It was cold in the woodshed at night, so the two of them huddled next to the stove and listened to the crackle of firewood. Until that day, a group of men in black knelt outside the woodshed and shouted "Sir" to him.