Introduction to the work "Three Lives of Love"
Fate is like a lock, love is like a knife. After three lives of reincarnation, I ask: Have you ever regretted it?
She is the extremely noble Qingli Yuanjun in the thirty-third heaven, who is in charge of Yimu in the East Heaven.
Under the Qionghua tree, he once held her hand and made a promise that "the blue sky falls in the yellow spring, and we will accompany her in life and death." In front of the Lingxiao Palace, there was a phoenix crown and a harem, and the sky was congratulating her. She thought this was where her heart could rest and where she could express her love.
But on the wedding night, his soul was killed by his Zichen Heavenly Thunder, and the wedding dress was stained with blood.
"I will sacrifice your soul to my great road." He was condescending, with a coldness and indifference in his eyes that she had never seen before.
Why?
Until death, no answer was found. There is only a trace of residual soul stained with hatred, unwilling to fall into the mortal world.
When she opened her eyes again, she was Lin Wan, a seven-year-old orphan girl whose parents had died and who was bullied in a village near the Jokhang Kingdom.
He ate scraps of soup, was beaten and scolded endlessly, fell into the water in the cold winter, and was on the verge of death several times. There is no trace of the immortal bones, and all the spiritual power is lost. There is only a little bit of immortal tenacity and the cold memory of "Qingli" buried deep in the sea of consciousness.
She wants to live. What's more, we need to understand the reason for the betrayal that took three thousand years of infatuation.
However, this mortal body seems to also hide unknown secrets.
The strange token left behind by her deceased father attracted the pursuit of the mysterious man in black and the imperial demon-suppressing department; the dying boy she encountered in the snowy mountain forest was carrying a broken sword, and his eyes were as empty as the eternal cold abyss, but her remaining soul was palpitating.
Underneath the peaceful village, there is a turbulent undercurrent. The seemingly accidental rebirth seemed to fall into a huge web that had already been woven.
The wood spiritual roots quietly revived, and the tiny cultivation base struggled to condense in the mud.