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Wanli Is so Expensive
The vermilion ink has not yet dried. I stared at the memorial in front of me and tapped my fingers on the armrest of the dragon chair three times. Outside the window, it was late at night in the 30th year of Wanli. I was the only one left in the Qianqing Palace - even the eunuchs who were serving me were asked to leave because it was really not a suitable place for others to see me.
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All I Read Are Sweet Words
My body was falling rapidly, the air was whistling past my ears, and my heart seemed to be pinched by an invisible hand, beating so fast that it was about to explode. Everything in his sight was flipping - Lin Hao stood there on the top of the cliff, his figure getting smaller and smaller, becoming more and more blurry.
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Prince Regent, If You Continue to Turn Evil, I Will Die for You.
Pain. Everywhere in my body hurt, as if someone had broken a bone and put it back together again. I opened my eyes suddenly and saw the familiar splendid tent roof - this was my boudoir before I left the palace. It was made of Yueying gauze sent as tribute from the south of the Yangtze River. It is said that one piece is worth a thousand gold. I was stunned for three seconds, then I lifted the quilt and sat up
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A Downtrodden Painter Changes History
In the corner of Chang'an West Market, the down-and-out painter Gu Qingchuan was painting a portrait of an old man selling Hu cakes. However, the tip of his pen uncontrollably sketched out the funny afterimage of the old man who fell into a bucket of rancid water three days later. He crumbled the drawing paper irritably and only received three cents.
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