The person passed away, the flower withered. She was the Empress Xiaowu Chen of the Han Dynasty who had been his favorite for ten years and was envied by everyone. She was pampered, willful, and naive. Her eyes always followed his back. In the end, the higher she stood, the harder she fell. He abolished her and sent her to the cold palace. She lost everything overnight. She suddenly realized that her years were gone, her face was old, and her radiance was no longer.
Meng Leng Golden House. Sighing at the Qin Zheng, in the Xie Hong formation, the plain strings are fluttering with dust. Turning into a delicate oriole and flying back, I still recognize the old green screen window. It's raining, and the thorns and peaches are like bean sprouts. Do you know that this hatred is difficult to level? It is like a chess game on the Qiongtai. The thin shadow looks like a bright candle. The mandarin tower is broken and the jade from east and west is shed. Asking if Fang Tai will show up again, it's hard to predict the green hairpin. Wait for the palace eyebrows to look like clouds and draw them into a raw silk painting. I'm afraid not, I'm new to makeup. The colorful fans and red teeth are all here today, hating no one, and listening to the Kaiyuan song. Cover your empty sleeves and lean against the cold bamboo.