The mist in the south of the Yangtze River has sustained the Southern Time for eighteen years. The mountains and rivers infiltrated the bones and blood, forming a body of tranquility that was incompatible with the imperial city. So when Uncle Meng told the secret, he just thought that the rain in the corner was too fast and he heard it wrong.
The rain started two years ago. In that boat, he met Bian Yanzhou. There was a deep meaning in that man's eyes that he couldn't understand, and there was a fragrance in his sleeve that he couldn't identify. Thinking about it now, it was probably the smell of palace sandalwood mixed with the blood and rust of power.
"Let them get closer." The voice from the throne was as light as smoke, "The road will be easier from now on."
Uncle Meng's silence is colder than the winter snow in Jiangnan.
"The road is close, but... It's off track."
Nan Shixu finally pushed open the heavy palace door. The dragon chair is far away, and the father's kindness is indifferent. Only when the man at the bottom of the stairs raised his eyes, what was still reflected in his eyes was the candlelight of the boat from two years ago - it turned out that the step-by-step approach was false, but the sincerity of being off track because of him was true.
It's too cold in the East Palace. Fortunately, someone held his cold wrist before the conspiracy started.
The cool and stable beauty suffers VS the innocent and loyal young man attacks
If you have any questions, please pay attention to wb:
wb:-wine farewell
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