Demons are rampant: the violent concubine is not easy to mess with
Chapter 402 Emperor's Love 4
Chapter 402 Emperor's Love 4
Suddenly, she seemed to remember something.
He lowered his head almost hastily, and the white and slender fingers caught his eyes. Although they were dirty, they could be seen.There are no calluses on the hands that hold the sword all the year round.
Gently clenching his hand into a fist, Nangong Moli's lips trembled: "My hand...hand...can move."
How can it be?
How is this possible?
The tendons in her hands and feet were obviously severed by Xuanyuan Qingcheng on the night the family was destroyed.She will always remember that day, the man who swore that he would never let her down, led his army into the Zhennan General's Mansion, and slaughtered more than 300 members of her family.She remembered the temperature of her relative's blood splashed on her face, and how she abandoned all her dignity, humiliatingly kneeling in front of that man in front of the three armies and begging him bitterly.But in the end?
Angry accusations from parents before death.
The eyes of relatives who are dying.
With her maniacal laughter, the man who is overwhelmed by the country and the city gently squats down, hugs her in his arms, and breaks her tendons with a doting smile.She was imprisoned in the deepest part of the Jiuzhong Palace, the most luxurious palace in the southern country.
Nangong Moli still remembers the temperature of regret burning his body, the pain, like maggots attached to the bones, like a shadow.
Xuanyuan Qingcheng——
How can I tell her not to hate? !
How not to hate? !
No one can fall from the highest clouds into the dust without pain.
And she is more than just falling into the dust?
She just loved someone, but she sacrificed her family, relatives, and even all the dignity and pride she had.What's wrong with her?She loves the wrong person.It is enough for God to punish her, why should more than 300 innocent lives be implicated? !
Shouldn't she be dead?
Now... time travel is still just a dream...
Nangong Moli's head was in pain like tearing, and countless afterimages whizzed past her mind.
(End of this chapter)
Suddenly, she seemed to remember something.
He lowered his head almost hastily, and the white and slender fingers caught his eyes. Although they were dirty, they could be seen.There are no calluses on the hands that hold the sword all the year round.
Gently clenching his hand into a fist, Nangong Moli's lips trembled: "My hand...hand...can move."
How can it be?
How is this possible?
The tendons in her hands and feet were obviously severed by Xuanyuan Qingcheng on the night the family was destroyed.She will always remember that day, the man who swore that he would never let her down, led his army into the Zhennan General's Mansion, and slaughtered more than 300 members of her family.She remembered the temperature of her relative's blood splashed on her face, and how she abandoned all her dignity, humiliatingly kneeling in front of that man in front of the three armies and begging him bitterly.But in the end?
Angry accusations from parents before death.
The eyes of relatives who are dying.
With her maniacal laughter, the man who is overwhelmed by the country and the city gently squats down, hugs her in his arms, and breaks her tendons with a doting smile.She was imprisoned in the deepest part of the Jiuzhong Palace, the most luxurious palace in the southern country.
Nangong Moli still remembers the temperature of regret burning his body, the pain, like maggots attached to the bones, like a shadow.
Xuanyuan Qingcheng——
How can I tell her not to hate? !
How not to hate? !
No one can fall from the highest clouds into the dust without pain.
And she is more than just falling into the dust?
She just loved someone, but she sacrificed her family, relatives, and even all the dignity and pride she had.What's wrong with her?She loves the wrong person.It is enough for God to punish her, why should more than 300 innocent lives be implicated? !
Shouldn't she be dead?
Now... time travel is still just a dream...
Nangong Moli's head was in pain like tearing, and countless afterimages whizzed past her mind.
(End of this chapter)
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