"Does your Majesty have any regrets in this life?" Li Xian was stunned for a moment. The spring ice was just beginning to break, and the wind-wrinkled water in the pond was still chilly. It was already the twenty-fifth year of Kaiyuan, and the spring light of the prosperous age showered on them. He looked back at that man. He had been in high and low officialdom for nearly thirty years, entering the official position in a solitary manner, and then all the scholars in the world were stunned. Now he had to watch his lifelong dream come to nothing. "What I hope for in this life..." He paused for a moment, looking at the imperial city hidden by willow branches. "Everything I hope for in this life, I got." Time after time of coincidence, time and time deviating from the original intention, only then will you know that the real master is the world's best. No matter what, he finally had a carefree life in the eyes of others. ————————————————————————The emperor glanced at the relics left by Li Xian, as if he had entered a long-lost kingdom, with the past wandering around and wandering around the wilds of the kingdom. Everything here is both familiar and unfamiliar to him. He opened a volume of books from Emperor Ruizhong's collection, paid attention to the seal, and when he saw it, it turned out to be a draft of Prince Zhang Huai's annotation of the "Book of the Later Han". His father left him the greatest treasure that the world thought he had, and he also left the greatest treasure in his heart to his eldest brother.
The dharma stickers and purple jade flutes that Li Xian carefully copied during his lifetime... Finally, his eyes fell on a scroll with a scorch mark on the edge, like a butterfly resting on a clump of swaying flowers.
The scroll was slowly opened, but it was a portrait of a lady. The beauty in the painting is in the prime of life, holding flowers in her hands, and she seems to have emerged from the dust. They are all drawn with the lines of spring silkworms, so they appear to be ancient, and the skirts and skirts look like endless clouds. He knew that Li Xian was good at painting horses, but he didn't know that his figure paintings were also so exquisite. At that time, there was a joke upstairs in Hua Calyx, which told Li Xian to learn "Wu Dai is the style", but it was not necessary. Then he thought that the painter had never shown any signs of this skill during his lifetime, and thought he knew everything. It turned out that there were corners in the world that emperors could never set foot on, and a sense of frustration suddenly swept through his heart.
The emperor came closer to take a closer look at the beauty's clothes and makeup. He then looked around at the palace people and realized that this was not the makeup of today's palace. He felt that the beauty's features and facial features were similar to those of before, but he couldn't remember where or when he met her, or her last name.
"Is she the woman that my eldest brother likes?" The aging emperor opened his eyes, which were still dark, and caressed the beauty's youthful green temples. He suddenly asked this question and murmured to himself, but he had no intention of contending with the decayed memory, nor did he want to explore a romantic love story or palace secrets that may have disappeared, because this happened to hit the hidden pain and desire in his eyes.
He closed the scroll impatiently, and after asking everyone to take care of the rest, he walked towards the depths of the palace, looking towards the first year of Tianbao, another meager spring that was about to pass away.
In the background of the world of women, the power of youth is germinating, growing in the dragon, shining in Kaiyuan, and then withering and falling. Like a flower blooming and fading in a quiet place. From the second year of Zai Chu to the first year of Tianbao