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... her face was helpless: I said Shu Gui, what the sorrow can do for you, all done. You haven’t seen it now? What we are doing now is wrong. Only if we don’t move is the best policy, waiting for them to make mistakes.”

"But... aunt, let's wait, I'm afraid I will wait until the Prince is succeeded, and there is no more to sing..."

"Prince's successor? This is not allowed to talk nonsense, the emperor is now in the prime of life, how can the Prince succeed?" The Queen Mother put the han ...

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The archaeologist “red-haired witch” made too big of a disturbance while excavating tombs, gloriously becoming a martyr in the midst of the grave chamber’s collapse. Seventeen years later, she had transmigrated into the Five Regions Continent. The delinquent Meng Fuyao who struggled to survive in the lowest rungs of society, cast aside her boyfriend who was about to marry another person with a slice of his five fingers.

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And so, will this road of chanced affection go through the peak of heavenly mountains and the warmth of bonfires; the glint of sword shadows and the coldness of the glance backwards; the autumn sun’s golden wind and the flying sweep of the robe sleeve; or that chilly moonlit forest and that sprint like an arrow’s? Once love and that chosen, narrow path cross each other, which will prevail?

She said, I can dedicate myself to you, but if you do not want my body of hot blood, then I must draw your blood. She said, the efforts of my entire life have run in the opposite direction of true love, so are the heavens laughing at me? Then I guess I can only laugh at the heavens.

Three chi of torn silk, one zhang of spilt blood. A thousand li of expanded territory, ten thousand fallen corpses. One day the Luan and Phoenix will soar up with the winds, and Fuyao will rise straight up, ninety thousand li.

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