When Feng Yuan was nine thousand years old, when she woke up, the wind chimes rang several times by the window, and several clusters of irises bloomed outside the window. Xian'e, who was serving her, stumbled in and said, "God, God, God. The Emperor of Heaven sent someone to invite you, saying that something happened again at the place where the Lord God is."
She cleared her sleep, wore a green peach blossom dress, and her clothes were flying. She stepped into the nine-story pavilion and heard the voice: "Except for Bai Ling, I will never marry anyone else in my life!"
The voice was so resounding and full of promise.
Feng Yuan yawned lazily: "That's the case, I won't force it."
But there is no such thing as force in this world, there is only willingness.
Who in this world doesn't know that the person Yunque, the son of the Emperor of Heaven, loves is not the child Feng Yuan who was chosen eight thousand years ago, but Bai Ling, the God of Flowers who is the most beautiful in the world and captivates the whole country.
That Feng Yuan who became a god with a ball of spiritual energy was just a joke in the past eight thousand years.
Mud can't hold up the wall, it's embarrassing, it's just shameless.