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It was late at night. Only the thatched hut in Hanmo was still dimly lit.

At this moment, Han Moyu was looking at the finely carved guqin in a daze, and his heart was surging. She didn't know what was wrong with her, how could she be so excited, so worried.

That piano, as if attached to someone's soul, every time Han Moyu stretched out his trembling fingers and covered the body of the piano, something suddenly flashed through his mind.

The piano seemed to whisper something. However, Hanmo couldn't hear it clearly. She hugged the piano and gradually fell asleep.

The kerosene burned out, the fire faded out, and finally it was extinguished, turning into a wisp of green smoke and flying......

…………

It was very windy.

Flowers rolled and fell in the wind, and the sky was like a goose feather snowfall.

A fluttering woman in white stood in such a wind, her snow-white robe fluttering in the wind.

What she was holding in her arms was a paulownia phoenix tail guqin.

In front of me is a pond full of blue waves and red lotus, swaying slightly in the wind.

Her favorite thing to see is this pond full of red lotus, and her favorite thing is the guqin in her hand.

Every time in this pavilion isolated in the middle of the Bihu Lake, appreciating the lotus and caressing the qin is a great pleasure for her.

Now, for some reason, her heart is full of worry and melancholy, and she can't erase it.

She sighed softly, sat down, and stroked the body at will.

Smooth music flowed from her fingers like water, gurgling beautifully. At the same time, the figure of the man in purple, like a devil, once again appeared in her mind, unable to wave away.

Her originally calm heart immediately swayed with layers of waves. And the movements of his subordinates are getting faster and faster.

Heart, messed up. The piano is naturally messed up.

In the urgent sound of the piano, the lotus flowers in the pond disappeared, and this Huating, isolated in the middle of the lake, also changed its appearance, from gorgeous to desolate.

The woman in white looked up and saw a dense mist. In the mist, a figure of a man in purple faintly appeared.

The woman in white looked at the man with a sweet smile on her face, but the man moved in front of her in an instant, and plunged a short knife into her abdomen.

She looked down in surprise, only to see that the blood in her abdomen gushed out like a waterfall, staining her white clothes red.

The man in purple laughed wildly, like a madman.

She clutched her chest and raised her head, but it was the distorted face of the man in purple.

……

Han Moyu was uneasy on the bed, her eyebrows were tightly locked, and sweat was oozing slightly from her face and forehead.

The manic laughter of the man in purple and the slow and rapid sound of the piano alternated in her mind......

Loneliness, pain, despair, all came to her heart......

……

Han Moyu opened his eyes in the midst of such wild laughter and chaotic piano sounds.

I woke up from the dream, and the laughter and the sound of the piano came to an abrupt end. And the fragments of memory were like smoke, lingering in her mind, unable to be waved away.

It hurts and I can't breathe.

The face of the man in purple has been appearing all the time, and it can't be erased.

He who was gentle as water smiling, and who was vicious and ruthless who was laughing wildly, which one was the real him? Han Moyu was confused for a while.

It's just that that person's face is very pale and light, and Han Moyu just stubbornly feels that it must be her past life.

In her previous life, she must have had some kind of story with the purple man in her dream. But I can't remember that person's face.

But she clearly knew that it was that person, the purple-clothed man she loved deeply in her dream, who killed herself in her dream.

If it was just a dream, why was it so bizarre? so long, so repeated, and so long, and over and over again? Even if it was fake, it gave her enough reason to hate and fear.

Han Moyu couldn't sleep anymore.

She lit the candlelight, and in the room, she placed the lyre in front of her, sat down, and looked at the body carefully.

Although this piano is not as gorgeous and exquisite as it is in his dreams, it is enough to make Han Moyu fall in love with it. And at the same time, she seems to have pinned some deep feelings on this piano.

She stroked the sound of the piano, as if she was caressing her lover, so gentle, so reluctant, so obsessed.

Han Moyu stretched out his fingers and picked at the strings.

Ding~~~~

The tone is so good. It is as lively as a spring.

Han Moyu closed his eyes.

A pool of blue waves appeared in front of him, and a red lotus swayed in the wind. There seemed to be a faint scent of flowers in the wind.

In the pavilion, a thin veil like cicada wings fluttered in the wind, as if caressing her cheeks.

Could it be that this is also the memory of the previous life? How many memories have not been remembered? Who am I, and who is the man in purple?

……

Chang Yu.

Fu Chang Yu.

The name popped up in her mind, as clear as the lights of the night.

She was startled. Then, the name merged with the purple-clad man's blurred face. Her brain was punctured from the chaos, and a glimmer of light shone through.

She suddenly knew that this was the name of the purple-clothed man, Fu Changyu.

Tsugacho Imperial ......

Han Mo muttered the man's name.

Why do you want me to remember? She patted her head hard.

She didn't want to hear the name, she hated it! She had buried it deep in her memory, why was it pulled out now?!......

She was a little frightened, as if there was something more terrible with the revival of the name.

Long Imperial ...... I like you...... Long Imperial ......

Han Moyu held his head with both hands. However, she still saw more and more clearly that the woman in white was standing by the water with a sad and lonely face, looking at a pool of red lotus in full bloom.

I saw her stretch out her hand, take out a piece of red letter paper from her arms, and then slowly unfold it. On the top of the letter, the name of that person was densely written, Fu Changyu.

The delicate handwriting was neatly arranged in rows, covering the entire paper, as elegant as the face of a woman in white.

It's just that in the end, the handwriting lost more and more of that calm and handsomeness, and instead became a little anxious, as if it was a moth struggling to break free from the cocoon of bondage, showing the posture of a dragon flying and a phoenix dancing.

The handwriting was deep and forceful, and the force almost cut through the paper, and a faint pool of ink was obliterated.

Fu Chang Yu.

That name was not only engraved on the paper, but also deeply engraved into the heart of the woman in white.

The woman in white smiled miserably, then stretched out her slender jade finger and folded it a few times, and the letter immediately turned into a graceful lotus flower.

She slowly squatted down, put the paper lotus into the lake, and then watched with infinite attachment and loneliness as the paper lotus was blown to the center of the lake by the wind......

"Tianjizi, what are you doing?"

Hearing the voice, the woman in white was startled, turned her head, and met the bottomless gaze of the man in purple. She followed the man's gaze and turned to the paper lotus in the lake.

The purple-clothed man suddenly laughed and said, "You actually put paper lotus in the lake like a young girl with a spring color?"

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