The Breeze Kisses Your Face

"If Jin Qing hadn't been there, you would have been my Fu Jin..." Yinsu stared at the thin woman in front of him, her face lightly painted with pink and white still the same as it was more than ten years ago, and the sadness between her brows only increased but never decreased, like an orchid in the empty valley, as if it would disappear into the air in the blink of an eye. "It's a pity that there is no 'what if' in this world..." Linglong turned her eyes away, stood up and pulled off a plum blossom from the branch, put it on the tip of her nose and smelled it, and a burst of fragrance filled her lungs. "There is no if, but it is possible." Yinzhen couldn't bear her Qingfeng Danyun, stepped forward and took her arm and said: "I thought you wouldn't like fourth brother. When I become the emperor..." Linglong's heart trembled, and she hurriedly reached out to cover his mouth. The Eighth Prince, who was as gentle as jade in the past, now looked radiant, and his once clear eyes became cloudy. The years made his blood flow with the love and desire unique to the Luo family. Just as she was about to move, a strange feeling crept into her heart. Linglong let go of her hand and sighed: "I don't like it..." Seeing the corners of Yinsu's mouth raised slightly, Linglong said helplessly: "Love and liking are different..." Scattered snowflakes fell from the sky, freezing Yinsu's confident smile, which gradually turned into a trace of self-mockery. He turned around and walked out of the garden with great effort. After walking a few steps, he turned to Linglong who was still admiring the flowers and smiled: "You probably don't know yet, but the fourth brother took over another house two days ago..." Seeing the plum blossom in her hand falling to the ground, Yinsu was filled with bitterness. The goose-feather-like snow covers the ground, and a bloody red plum blossom on the snow is particularly enchanting... "Master, what's wrong with you..." Qiaoxiu cried out in horror when she saw Linglong lying on the snow. *-_-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~-_-* Weekly, don't rush with a whip, there is too little time and coding is too painful~