Xueling Dyes the Heart

The wind in Xueling Prefecture is used to blowing people through the gaps between their teeth. In the twelfth lunar month, the copper pot in the backyard of Ranshuangfang is rolling, and the bitter fragrance of mugwort and maranthia leaves are intertwined, as if the last bit of vitality in winter has been brought out. Some people pass by the alley and think it is an ordinary dyeing workshop; if someone is willing to stop, they will see a string of old copper bells under the lintel. When the wind passes, the sound is soft but long, as if counting the days for someone or guarding a door for someone. I wrote "Snow Ridge Stained Heart" not to recreate a certain section of the old road, nor to move into the joys and sorrows of a certain family. The coldness of the frontiers, the dangers of the trade roads, the women keeping the business, the men hiding their names, the fake marriage is a real contract, and affection can arise in the business - these temperaments may be familiar to readers, but Shen Ranshuang and Lu Zhaoheng only belong to the city of Xueling, the village of Ranshuang, and the sound of wind chimes. Chen Ranshuang's hand is steady, steady in three immersions and three suns, steady in mother liquor and urn, steady in account books and justice. She was said to be a "censor" and was forced to die by her relatives, but she did not believe in fate, but believed in craftsmanship: if the color is uniform, the prison will be laid; if the prison is laid, the person will be warm. Lu Zhaoheng didn't give his full name when he came, but when he left, he still wanted to be Lu Qi - chop wood, protect his wrists, and say "Never leave" in the broken tent. The marquis' armor can be taken off, and the prince's name can be put away. Only the two words "recruit me" are like a seal, stamped on the false marriage deed, and also stamped on the lintel bell many years later.