Phoenix Blood

The phoenix sings, upon that high hill; the parasol tree grows, in the morning sun.

Yunhuang, the king of all birds soaring under the blazing sunlight

How fate twists and turns, entangled in the desires of the lotus, making it difficult to sever the ties

All the glory and honor, the esteemed titles, cannot compare to the companionship found in the familiar streets and homes

Eight hundred miles of Yinchuan, vows of the sea and mountains fade into emptiness, half a lifetime of grievances flow away like water

In the south, there are phoenix trees, in the north, there are fine trees; the heavens change colors, and the palaces change masters

And this woman, who has undergone a rebirth in the nine heavens, has only traversed half of her long life...

At the age of fifteen, everyone looked down on her because she was the forgotten princess in the Xinyi Palace. Her life revolved around her madly beautiful mother and the cold, trembling bamboo. However, that night, in the darkness, she made a desperate thrust, and the blood was dazzling, staining the days and nights that followed. Deep in the palace, there were assassins, exiled princes, and the newly restored emperor, and her heart, once calm and untroubled, became a long scar of crimson on that person's chest

At the age of twenty, everyone revered her, for she was the eldest princess favored in the harem of the Southern Qin Empire. In the boundless struggles of love and the deep entanglement of desires, she was no longer the naive girl who merely stared blankly at the patterns on her skirt; she was his lotus-colored woman, his beautiful yet tragic companion. However, amidst the groves of apricot trees and bamboo cottages, oaths were easily made and easily broken. In his game of chess, she was merely a pawn crossing the river, ultimately becoming a pale moonlight, chilling across a thousand miles, illuminating the heavenly palace. In the boundless struggles of love and the deep entanglement of desires, she was no longer the naive girl who merely stared blankly at the patterns on her skirt; she was his lotus-colored woman, his beautiful yet tragic companion. However, amidst the groves of apricot trees and bamboo cottages, oaths were easily made and easily broken. In his game of chess, she was merely a pawn crossing the river, ultimately becoming a pale moonlight, chilling across a thousand miles, illuminating the heavenly palace.

Yunhuang, the king of birds dancing in the sunlight, sheds this sinful identity and the title of a man-eater. In the north, there are fine trees; in the south, there are phoenix trees. For whom does she seek rebirth? Eight hundred miles of Yinchuan have shattered the dreams of the former nation, and half a lifetime of iron and blood has come to naught. What remains in the wind are the vows of eternal love, and whose fleeting moments are they?