Ye Weiyang

Smoke, dust and rain fall on Peach Blossom Lane, and the world's clothes are wet and fragrant with tears. The black awning and brocade winding across the winding river, Rouge looked back at Ye Weiyang. Nanxiang version: [In the Palace of Wei, she finally danced to the top of the world with the song "Night is Young", unparalleled in the world. However, why was his cold and sharp sword destined to penetrate her weak chest? At that moment, the sound of bones and flesh shattering together became her endless nightmare, one after another, heartbreaking. If she, who was fourteen years old, had no surname, no father, and no mother, was willing to stay in the desolate desert, could she still hold Xin'er's hand, stand on the dead tree that turned against her, and look up at the icy blue sky where the goshawks flew over, for the rest of her life? She devoted her whole life to love, but not to win his heart, only to get revenge. At the end, did her bloodthirsty lips say I hate you, or thank you? Sima Shi version: [His world has always been just like the sky in Weiyang Palace late at night, a huge hole that has been poked deeply and shallowly by a knife, filled with frozen, smelly blackness, and unstoppable curses and resentment towards certain lives. I always say, I just want you to die, you die... He said that because he wanted to be loved so much, he tried his best to love others, how sad it was. In the end, she became a grain of sand in his shoes, grinding into the soles of his feet, causing heartache with every step he took. So he would rather give up his mind. He held the emperor hostage to command the princes and became prominent in front of others. After all, he is the master of the world, how can he allow her to scream. Fengyue version: [I have loved, I have loved with all my might when I shouldn't have loved, with people I shouldn't have loved. However, she doesn't love me, she just uses me, only uses me. Use various means to kill various people. I'm glad that in her eyes, I still have value to be used. Sometimes, fate always depends on killing some people to help others survive. It doesn't matter whether they are good or bad. Love is also killing. You choose who to kill, and who chooses to be killed by you. The Saint of Love is always the one with the knife in his hand. Xin'er version: [I weaved countless lies, but in the end, I only lied to myself. Wang Yuanji, I hate this name, this woman, but she has disguised herself as her all her life, suffering every day, just for your words of "I love you." I hope that in the next life, I will be just a foolish village girl, and you will be just a commoner. Between life and death, between love and hatred, there is no trace of you or me. If we meet, we will pass by and we will miss each other.