Crossing the Queen Feitian: The Harem Male Concubine

Chapter 42 Women are superior to men, and the male concubine is pre-selected (3)

"Lord Jiuzhao, this... will attract more criticism."

"It doesn't matter. How many dignitaries in the court are waiting for the new harem after the new king. Those powerful families are ready to move. If their heirs cannot enter the palace, they will only try to please Feitian." His meaning is obvious. This piece of food only belongs to his Feitian, and he will not leave any scum for the eldest princess Yuntian.

"The general understands—the general will follow Master Jiuzhao's wishes."

××××××××××
After sending off Mo Jia, the female commander of the imperial guards, Jiu Zhao returned to Feitian's bedroom——

He saw the girl standing by the table touching the jade seal.

"Do you like this thing?"

He suddenly opened his mouth to ask her, which startled the "guilty" Feitian. When he let go of his hand, the things in his hand fell...

In an instant, a gust of wind flashed in front of her, it was Jiu Zhao's figure, he stretched out his hand, picked up the jade seal that was almost smashed in time, raised his palm, and placed the jade seal in front of Feitian.

He said: "You don't have to be afraid, you are the queen, this jade seal is yours in the first place, no one can take it away."

Fei Tian smiled awkwardly, he was so close to her, she was afraid, so she involuntarily stepped back a little.

She didn't speak, and he didn't—

Fei Tian watched him sit behind the table, spread out the snow-white rice paper, press the paperweight, he closed his cuffs, and started to grind.

Fei Tian stood in front of him, watching his every move, watching him take off the Langhao pen from the pen holder and start dipping it in ink and start writing... She carefully observed his every move: If it wasn't for that dream, she wouldn't Will be afraid of him, it's really hard to imagine such an excellent and elegant man...isn't he a human?

Fei Tian couldn't understand the text he was writing, it twisted... like a tadpole-like text.She was even more sure that this was not her dream. In this era called Mogu Dunhuang, she was incapacitated every day.

He wrote for half an hour, and she stood for half an hour—the papers passed in front of him one by one, and then pulled to the right—

(End of this chapter)