The raging fire, the sound of the swords of the soldiers fighting to death, live on, Xiao Shu, live on
The body of the man on the bed was trembling slightly, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. "Brother Su, Brother Su," the young man beside the bed called eagerly. The man suddenly woke up and took a deep breath, and quickly calmed down. An imperceptible trace of panic flashed across his eyes, but Mei Changsu had become accustomed to hiding his emotions in the past twelve years. Hatred and pain have long since worn away the sharpness and sharpness of the young man, replaced by cunning and cunning. He turned to look at the young man with a doting smile, and the gentleness in his eyes could not be concealed. "Don't be afraid, Fei Liu, Brother Su just had a dream, let's go out and play." The nervous mood of the young man beside the bed instantly turned into a pure smile, and the young man disappeared out the door in the blink of an eye. Mei Changsu stared at the direction where the young man disappeared, and recalled the dream just now.
Langya Pavilion is like a fairyland, surrounded by mountains and heavy mist, with only the cooing of pigeons and the steady footsteps of apprentices. Thousands of miles away in Jinling City, the streets are bustling, and the palaces and palaces of all sizes are magnificent. In the blink of an eye, it has been twelve years since I left there...