On the seventh day of the lunar month, in Xianyang City

The cold wind is rising.

A thin and distressed woman stood under a banana tree in a daze, with a freshly torn letter in her hand, revealing a faint smell of fat powder. It was him, the person she hadn't been in touch with for many years, but she still remembered that she hated the smell of pen and ink. Every letterhead will be inked with good rouge and beautiful hair.

By the moonlight, I read the news that I hadn't understood for a long time. I just feel that even the letterhead is full of the aroma of fine wine, and it is moistened into my heart in the slightest.

The plantain does not show the clove knot, and they are worried about the spring breeze. This first sentence alone made her crazy.

A woman's heart, like a banana leaf that can't be opened, rolls and shrinks one by one, hoping that the belated plum rain will unfold her carefully.

She is like the most graceful leaf, curled up in the small courtyard in this Xianyang City, standing under the banana tree in this backyard, hiding in this circle of bottomless corridors. Silently thinking about the man who is separated by layers of buildings and classes.

That's the man who has been obsessed and happy for ten years, the man who fell in love with her most beautiful years, and the man who has been ruthless and broke off the news for ten years.

It was the man she wanted to kill with rouge, but let her cry with rouge.

In front of him, she even forgot that she was a disciple of the Sword Saint. She only remembered that she wanted to be the woman who was with the man named Bai Qi for the rest of her life.

She still remembers that the two first met that year. He suddenly stroked her hair and praised it as the most charming vapor in the desert. Isolated from the scorching heat of the desert, the swordsmanship under the Sword Saint Sect has removed the only fireworks.

He once praised that her sword dance, like an epiphany under the moon, always releases heartbreaking beauty in an instant.

That year, she was sixteen and he was seventeen.

One just waits for the completion of swordsmanship, and returns to Xianyang to fight for a Jingxiu future. A man who has given up all her ambitions and missions and just wants to accompany him, he is the only king in her world.

But Xianyang City is so big, as soon as he returned to Xianyang City, he has been isolated from the news since then. She waited every day, looked forward to it every day, took out the letters he had written before every day, until the rouge fell off, until her heart was like ashes.

I finally got the news of him.

On that day, in Xianyang City, he married the princess. Standing on the high steps, I wonder if I can still see the woman waiting stupidly in the distance.

She held the rouge and told herself. In addition to being able to stay and fly with him. Watching him be happy is the second happiest thing in the world.

The current resentment and the bitterness in his heart turned into a sword qi that swept away a bright future for him.

He went on an expedition to Xirong, and he used rouge to kill the emperor of Xirong step by step. Even if the blood stains the clothes and the fire hurts the skin, he will not hesitate to do so.

He quelled the rebellion and turmoil, and he could forget the people in the world in his heart, regardless of the thousands of Li people, just for him to have a bright future.

When he returned to the court, he was awarded the title of general of the captivity. I don't know if I will think about it occasionally in the sleepless night. On the other side of the desert, there is a woman waiting for news from him.

And so year after year, before you know it, ten years have passed. Now, ten years later, what does he want to tell himself in this letter? Why did he stir his dying heart again when he was about to forget.

Today, this letter is like a letter that spans ten years, whether it is a comedy or a tragedy.

Gradually, no one can read her eyes, whether it is helplessness, pain, or longing.

What kind of devil can be willing to ravage a woman's heart again and again.

It's just that the world will eventually remember that on this day, in Xianyang City, there was a woman holding the famous sword rouge. Just for a letter, travel thousands of miles alone.