Lantian

Suppose, God grants you the opportunity to reunite with your dead lover. On the other side of the Naihe Bridge, the bowl of Mengpo soup was sprinkled on the scarlet mandala on the ground. Under the blazing sunshine in the lake pavilion, a young man who was neither humble nor arrogant knelt in front of her, looking at her as firmly and brightly as the afternoon sun: "My body is the sword in the emperor's hand." Lightning pierced the dark sky, and the woman covered with white gauze held a lyre in her arms. Her eyes were misty as the white gauze fluttered: "I am willing to help the prince win the throne. As long as the prince can promise, when he succeeds and becomes famous, I will let me go free." There was a fire in Kyoto, and the young master in silver armor stood at the top of the city, smiling as he watched the scene disappear in the blazing flames that reflected the sky. The black-clothed assassin in front of him was in front of him in a blink of an eye, and his slender figure suddenly flashed out from behind him, his phoenix eyes blurred between the light of the sword and the shadow of the sword. Her body was covered with blood, and her dark sleeves were stained with a few drops of blood. She knelt down in front of him, and her voice sounded like a warbler: "All one hundred and seventy-six members of the royal family have been killed by the sword." Today, the next life, three lives. He died for love in his previous life, and lives for love in this life. If he lived for love, why did he end up with hatred in the end? Can the encounter that we have been striving for for hundreds of years get the desired result in this unpredictable world of God's will and the dangers of human hearts? I can't help but have nowhere to run. When my hands are stained with blood for you, can you still hold me in your arms like you did before? In the previous life, you loved me so much, why are you so disgusted now?