After the lazy emperor

Yu Ziyuqi's silence was within Fengning's expectation. Anyway, from the very beginning, he was in the position of watching the play, stood up, and raised the corners of his lips coldly at the crowd. The smile on her face was so sudden that it made people gasp, "Nalan Fengning lost her mother when she was young, so she couldn't help entering the palace in a hurry, how could she have time to prepare the dowry? With Fengning's Compared with the blessings, the nobles and ladies are rich in blessings, don't you think so—Your Majesty."

His voice was ethereal and clear, as if dewdrops were falling on the water. He had never heard Ning Gui speak so many words at once, and in front of His Majesty, he dared to say that entering the palace was involuntary. What is His Majesty's temperament? Well, she should have heard it even if she has no experience, she can say such outrageous things, is she too careless, she can't stand such a simple tease, and dare to openly challenge the majesty of the emperor.

The afterglow of the evening glow reflects the evening lotus in the lake, the cold wind walks quietly with the skirt on, unexpectedly the body is turned slightly, causing countless ripples and waves, the silence ends for a while, those gazes that were originally on Fengning's body At this time, she looked at the emperor with a look of fear, but she didn't see what he said, but she saw Ning Gui suddenly wiped her body and left. As ethereal and illusory as in a dreamland, such a woman, apart from being unwilling to be reconciled to her noble temperament born without doing anything, can't help but sweat for her, boldly offending Tianwei, this nobleman Ning is probably in danger of her life.

The cold wind passed by slowly, and more and more memories were blowing in. The past events that I thought about were like snowballs falling from the mountains, lingering and unable to be driven away.

The snowflakes falling from the sky surrounded Fengning layer by layer, she stopped and looked up, but a drop of tear fell down, little snowflakes condensed on her face, little bit of coldness and little bit of desert injury.

Once upon a time, in the quiet back hill of the campus, I walked alone among the trees, listening to the breeze blowing by, the leaves rustling and falling, when I looked up, even the blue sky faded, and was shrouded in layers of low haze.

Once upon a time, in the noisy streets and the passing figures, she wanted to be in the lively atmosphere and let others notice that she was an existing entity, but she still easily found a burst of tranquility.

In that family, there was no father, and my mother said it was broken, and my grandma kept nagging her every day, so she was redundant and became an unchangeable fact.

A broom star, piercing into her ears, broke the longing she was trying to maintain, and her mother turned around ruthlessly and indifferently again and again, making her feel at home—it was so cold, wasn't she born by her?Isn't she the daughter she loved since she was a child?Her father died, why did she, like her grandma, attribute all the responsibilities to herself?

The white sprinkled down, condensed in the hair, unwilling to leave, greedy for the thin temperature, melted it into mist, and surrounded this motionless woman with an indifferent expression and desolate eyes.

Zhumei stood next to the rockery with a paper umbrella, looking at the solitary scar not far away in vain, and wanted to shield her from the falling snow, but couldn't bear to disturb this beautiful snow-covered figure with her own voice.

The master hadn't returned to Yunran Palace for a long time, and when the snow fell, Zhumei went out of the palace to greet her with an umbrella, but she went there for a long time and didn't go back, so Zhulan found it. In the disturbing scene, he walked to Zhumei's side and said softly: "Go back to the palace and cook some ginger soup."