Pu Qingyin stared at the surroundings blankly.
Even in the middle of the pavilion in the lotus pond, she faintly saw a figure in gray clothes, but the distance was a little far away, so she couldn't see clearly.
And while she was watching, a swarm of majestic memories, as a breeze blew by, disappeared into her mind like a tide. The moment she accepted the memory, her eyes couldn't help but widen.
In that life, there were towers in the sky and fairyland everywhere.
But in the mortal world, there were the lowest mortals. They couldn't eat enough, they couldn't cover their bodies in the winter, some were frozen to death by the side of the road, some rolled down in the mountains.
That life, a seven or eight-year-old girl, with tattered clothes, followed a middle-aged man to the mountains to gather firewood.
