Waking up from a hangover with a headache, Wanzhang covered his head and struggled to get off the bed, all the way to the table to find water to drink, his hand was a little unstable in his hand, he poured a cup of cold tea tremblingly, and spilled a few drops. After taking a sip of it, his stomach was suddenly cold as if he was covered with a layer of ice, and his head was also stabbing and clear, but fortunately, he was finally a little sober.

She sat down on the edge of the table, filled the teacup again, took a few more sips, held the bottomed cup and felt that the wine was almost awake, so she drank the little tea that was left in the cup, and then put it back in the tray.

Just as Wanzhang put the cup away, and was about to open the window to ventilate, his eyes turned, but he happened to catch a glimpse of a corner of paper exposed under the bamboo tea tray, lying quietly on the table, not humble or arrogant under the tea tray.

Pulling it out with a finger, Wanzhang shook it a few times, then rubbed his eyes, opened his eyes wide and focused on looking, only to see that the words on the top of the dragon and phoenix dance are beautiful and elegant, reflecting the handsome and elegant temperament of the word owner.

Miss Wanzhang:

Thank you for your hospitality yesterday, I wanted to chat freely, but the girl was drunk, and she was helpless, and she was rude to take the girl back to the room, please forgive me. The cups and plates are messy, and they have been dealt with below, so the girl can rest assured.

Signed: Xie Yan.

After reading the note, Wanzhang couldn't help but rub his head again, and then finally remembered what happened yesterday, it turned out that after he was drunk, he had slept from noon yesterday to noon the next day.

When I went to someone else's house, I still remembered to clean up the dishes and chopsticks, Xie Yan was really a good man who was considerate and careful.

At this time, Wanzhang was completely awake, and remembered something because of the note left by Xie Yan, the last bit of haze in his eyes faded, and he looked around elvely.

Suddenly he caught a glimpse of a shovel behind the door, and his eyes suddenly lit up, without the slightest tiredness of a hangover, and his steps were firm and steady, and he strode over, picked up the shovel and went out.

Hurry up and find out what good wine is still hidden in this bamboo house, but it can't be wasted, and you can't let others take advantage of it.

Speaking of yesterday's baicao wine, tsk, it is really unforgettable.

There is no sun and moon in the mountains, the cold and summer do not know the year, not to mention growing up in the mountains since childhood, free and easy every day, better than being a fairy, excellent and traveling, unconsciously it is the four seasons in an instant, after a round of cold and summer, Wanzhang finally dug up the last jar of pear blossom wine buried in the corner of the kitchen wall, every day is boring, into July, the weather is so hot that people are lazy, she sits upstairs by the window of the bamboo house, and opens the window to blow the wind, fortunately, the wind blowing from the mountains is still cool, so that people can forget a little bit of summer heat.

In the past year, Wanzhang has seen Xie Yan many times in this year, sometimes to rub her for a meal of wine and food, and sometimes to give her some silver taels, but he has never seen Murong Chong once. Obviously, he is the master here, if he wants to take care of the guests, it should be him, why does Xie Yan always take care of himself?

After thinking about it for a whole year, I can only comfort myself with the fact that I am busy with affairs and inconvenient to go out.

Forget it, it's not a matter of prevention, anyway, as long as you wait for six years and the three prophecies come true, you can follow him justifiably, so what's the matter.

I moved a bamboo chair and sat by the window to play with a pot of fully opened multi-petaled snow-white jasmine, and the fragrance filled the whole bamboo house, making people feel relaxed.

However, seeing that this pot of jasmine was standing alone, which had signs of affecting the overall appearance, Wanzhang couldn't bear it, so he had to find a pair of scissors and plan to take care of it.

As soon as the scissors went down, the abrupt branch was cut decisively with a click, and finally immediately made the whole pot of jasmine look much better, put down the scissors with satisfaction, and turned the pot to see the quality of every angle, which was good.

However, when she proudly turned the flower pot to appreciate the beauty of each angle, she suddenly felt that the whole pot of flowers had a strange artistic conception when she turned to a certain direction, and something seemed to flash in her mind, and she quickly turned back a few degrees to take a closer look.

After subtracting the extra flower branches, the appearance of this potted flower is beautiful, but if you look closely, you can see it from a certain angle...... Some murderous intentions.

Slaughter, more precisely, is the artistic conception of death.

Is there a big man in a certain place who has died?

Turning his mind, he thought that now it has been a year since he left the three prophecies for Murong Chong back then, and it should be the time when the first prophecy is true, he has forgotten all about it, if it weren't for this omen, he would have almost missed it.

looked up at the clouds, and calmed down to pinch his fingers.

Sure enough.

Wang Meng, prime minister of Qin, Xu.

Slowly raised his eyes that were not happy or sad, and a conceited and joyful smile was hooked on his still immature lips.

It's done.

Hundreds of miles away in Chang'an City, the whole city is full of snow-white solemn scenes, the prime minister came out of the funeral, comparable to the national funeral, Qin King Fu Jian personally attended, the coffin mourned and wept, the courtiers and kings and grandchildren were in pain, hiding their faces and crying.

The cry is mixed with the sound of chanting and beating Jiao, as well as the sound of the prayer wheel and the copper bell under the verandah, so it is not mixed with solemnity.

Fu Hong, the prince in plain clothes, stepped forward to comfort Fu Jian: "Father, the prime minister has done his best for my Great Qin all his life, and now he has died of illness due to hard work, his lifelong hope is that my Great Qin is safe and rich, and my father mourns, don't let the prime minister rest assured on the way there." ”

Fu Jian slowly got up from the coffin, turned around to face the hundred officials and courtiers, his face was haggard and sad that could not be concealed, and his steps staggered like an old man, but this is obviously still a high-spirited prime-aged king, obviously not long ago he was able to drive the royal conquest in person, obviously he was not angry and arrogant above the court, but now he may be under the background of black clothes, but he seems to be growing white hair quickly, and his body is no longer tall and tall.

Even the voice seemed to be a different person, old and tired, and the people knelt before the hall, and only heard the king they looked up to say in a dumb voice, round the coffin:

"Jing Luo, when you fell ill in June, I personally prayed for you, sent courtiers to pray all over the famous mountains and rivers, and then your condition finally improved, and wrote to me 'Good authors may not be good at success, and good beginnings may not end well', persuading me to keep my heart to be successful, I read a line of words and shed a line of tears, but who knew that soon after, you still died...... It was the providence of heaven that prevented me from unifying the world, so that you left me early......" At this point, Fu Jian couldn't help but shed tears again, and the prince also hid his face and wept softly beside him, not to mention the kneeling courtiers and family. However, the next moment, Fu Jian wiped the tears on his face, called the prince, and said to him, "Prince, come over and kowtow to the prime minister three times." ”

Hearing this, the civil and military officers of the Manchu Dynasty kneeling in the hall were all surprised and disbelieving, and raised their faces with tears and looked at the emperor and the crown prince incredulously. Prime Minister Wang Meng is naturally for the country, but after all, there is a difference between monarchs and ministers, how can there be a ceremony for the prince to kneel in front of the courtiers?

Wang Meng's eldest son, Wang Yong, immediately kneeled in front of Fu Jian and cried: "The emperor must not, how can Weichen's father afford such a big gift?" If the emperor does this, he will let Weichen's father be sent to hell after his death, and he will not be reincarnated. ”

Fu Jian ignored him, led the confused prince to the spirit, and said to himself: "I can afford to stand it, prince, don't kneel down yet!" ”

Fu Hong didn't dare to disobey his father's words, so he knelt down with his legs bent and began to kowtow in front of Wang Meng's coffin.

However, every time he kowtowed, Wang Meng's eldest son and all the relatives and servants of the Wang family kowtowed together, and then the ministers in the hall also kowtowed, and even the sound of the Taoist priest beating Jiao was gradually overshadowed.

It wasn't until the prince's three heads were kowtowed that everyone finally stopped, and Fu Jian allowed the prince to stand up with a little satisfaction, and then said in a deep voice: "Spread my oracle, bury Wang Meng with the specifications of the Han Dynasty to bury Huo Guang, give Zi Palace, a bedroom, and a yellow intestine inscription, and fifteen coffins hidden outside the fir wood, and chase the prime minister - 'Wuhou'." ”

The courtiers around him immediately received the order, and then gave the order again.

Seeing that everything was only arranged in an orderly manner, Fu Jian only felt miserable in his heart, went around to the front of the coffin, and looked at his important ministers who were also teachers and friends through the heavy golden silk nanmu, but he felt sad from the heart, he was the king of a country, what was the use of Wen Taowuluo? can't keep a person who wants to stay, and the prime minister is a death......

At this time, I thought of another person in my heart, and my heart was warm and cold, but I was separated from him.

Hanging his head and caressing the coffin, his tone was firm, and he said softly:

"Prime Minister, I must follow what you say, be diligent and diligent, and unify the north."

After the solemn funeral, Wang Meng's death spread to every corner of Chang'an City, the people have always been grateful to the prime minister who has died with all his might, and the funeral was sent spontaneously when he heard the news of death.

After many days, Chang'an City was still shrouded in mourning, and traces of white paper could still be found in the corners of the streets, and there was a faint smell of burning in the air, which lasted for a long time.

Binh Duong Taishou Mansion.

In the evening, Murong Chong sat quietly in the room as usual, I don't know when it began to become a habit for him, sitting quietly and thinking to himself, as if he was thinking about something, and as if he was just in a daze. Suddenly there was the sound of birds flapping their wings, and then a pigeon's cooing, and he turned his head to the side of the window, which he said.

There was already a snow-white pigeon standing on the edge of the window, as if it was obediently waiting for him to open the window, and when he saw him open the window, he flapped his wings and flew in from the window as if he were home, and flew to the table and stood firm.

Murong Chong also skillfully removed a small piece of letter tied to the pigeon's paws, and then let the pigeon drink water and rest, while he sat on the side and slowly opened the letterhead.

The note was written in small block letters:

Qin Xiang Wang Mengxue.

At the end of the note is a strange symbol that seems to come from the Five Elements Bagua, the combination of Yin and Yang to form one of the Eight Trigrams, the Xun Hexagram.

Symbolizes the phase of the wind.

It was a message from Xunfeng, the secret servant he had planted in Great Qin.

The letterhead was immediately placed on the flame of the oil lamp after being read, and after a while, it turned into a faint wisp of green smoke and a few grains of ash, and Murong Chong rubbed his fingers, leaving no trace. The dove had enough rest, and spread its wings and flew in the direction of the man who raised him. The room was quiet, and the narrow phoenix eyes were flickering with the flames of oil lamps.

Qin Xiangwang Meng, really died?

Fu Jian's loss of Wang Meng is like a tiger being pulled out of its claws and fangs, and its deterrent power has been reduced by seven points. His hand couldn't help but clench his fists, and from then on, the strength of the Qin State was no longer what it used to be, and he finally had hope for his own recovery. The pretty eyes narrowed dangerously like a sleeping beast, and the thin lips evoked an ambitious sneer.

Fu Jian, Fu Jian, Daqin has lost Wang Meng, even if he can achieve anything in the future, it will just be a return to the light.

At the same time, I suddenly remembered someone in my mind, and the sneer gradually unconsciously became warm, or maybe it was just an illusion in the candlelight.

So in other words, the first of the three prophecies that that person left for himself back then has come true?

year. It turns out that a year has passed.

I haven't seen her for a year, and I don't know how she is now.