When she was five years old, her mother threw herself into a well.
Lu Li, the only son of Duke Lu Zhenshan, sat in his mother's pear flower yard for eighteen years - no one asked him, and he never spoke. In the autumn when he was twenty-three years old, he packed up an old iron knife and a strand of hair that his mother had tied for eighteen years, and left through the back door late at night. No message was left.
He didn't know where he was going. But he knew who he hated.
The northern border—the border where his father had cut down people for thirty years. The barbarian hunter was waiting for him in the snow. "Your father has killed my whole family. I can't kill him, not even my son." The defeated soldiers recognized him by the campfire, but did not draw their swords - "You are different from them."
Jiangnan—the hometown my mother can't go back to. In front of the 123 tablets in the ancestral hall, an old servant who had been guarding the house for twenty years told the truth: The Su family did not collaborate with the enemy to destroy the family, but was framed. And his father knelt in front of the emperor all night, and nothing could stop him.
Beijing - The dying father, there are three words beside the well: "Me too."
He went on the road with hatred and watched everything about his father on the road of thousands of miles. It's not forgiveness - it's a son who finally understands the full cause and effect behind his father's silence.
"My name is Lu Li. Lu from Lu Zhenshan. Whatever he didn't do, I'll do it."
