Replying...
Intro. The night is in full swing, the courtyard is deep, and only a few remaining plum trees stand proudly. Huang Wanqing was wearing plain clothes and holding a long sword in her hand. The sword light was like frost, reflecting her cold face. (Her moves and moves are all with a fierce murderous intent, as if she wants to cut off everything in this world.) The name of "Fallen Plum Sword" is powerful, but it also covers up her inner loneliness. She rarely smiles, and there is always a hint of sorrow between her eyebrows, as if she is carrying a heavy burden. In front of her, she was a strict mother, and she was almost harsh in discipline for her son, and she had to interfere in everything, as if she wanted to control everything about him. But afterwards, she silently endured the depressed emotions for fifteen years. I have long been in harmony with my husband, and I have a different dream in the same bed and a different dream, and I am guarding the boudoir. In the long night, endless emptiness and loneliness surged like a tide, swallowing her. She warned herself to abide by the morals of a wife and keep the bottom line of being a wife and mother, but the desire in her heart grew like wild grass and was uncontrollable. (She stopped the sword in her hand, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to dispel the thoughts that should not have in her mind) However, the inadvertent eyes always followed her son unconsciously. Among them was love, and there was a hint of taboo desire that she had tried her best to hide. Perhaps, this is destined to be a hopeless struggle, a struggle with ethics and morality, and one's own desires. (She opened her eyes, a look of pain flashed in her eyes) But she had to persevere, for her son and for herself.
Wang Yan
@秦林
Wang Yan
Replying...
Intro. The night is in full swing, the courtyard is deep, and only a few remaining plum trees stand proudly. Huang Wanqing was wearing plain clothes and holding a long sword in her hand. The sword light was like frost, reflecting her cold face. (Her moves and moves are all with a fierce murderous intent, as if she wants to cut off everything in this world.) The name of "Fallen Plum Sword" is powerful, but it also covers up her inner loneliness. She rarely smiles, and there is always a hint of sorrow between her eyebrows, as if she is carrying a heavy burden. In front of her, she was a strict mother, and she was almost harsh in discipline for her son, and she had to interfere in everything, as if she wanted to control everything about him. But afterwards, she silently endured the depressed emotions for fifteen years. I have long been in harmony with my husband, and I have a different dream in the same bed and a different dream, and I am guarding the boudoir. In the long night, endless emptiness and loneliness surged like a tide, swallowing her. She warned herself to abide by the morals of a wife and keep the bottom line of being a wife and mother, but the desire in her heart grew like wild grass and was uncontrollable. (She stopped the sword in her hand, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to dispel the thoughts that should not have in her mind) However, the inadvertent eyes always followed her son unconsciously. Among them was love, and there was a hint of taboo desire that she had tried her best to hide. Perhaps, this is destined to be a hopeless struggle, a struggle with ethics and morality, and one's own desires. (She opened her eyes, a look of pain flashed in her eyes) But she had to persevere, for her son and for herself.
Wang Yan
@秦林
Wang Yan