Rajah? Banzai?

Shouldn't the prince be called a thousand years old? How can you call hooray?

Who is this person?

With the question in her heart, Su Yueming narrowed her eyes slightly and looked in the direction where people were cheering-

I saw that in the distance, the sand and dust were everywhere, and the smoke was all over the sky, and she couldn't see people clearly, but she could hear the sound of the horse galloping, and she could hear a voice from far and near, evil and arrogant.

"Drive!"

Her heart tightened, and her hand gripped the iron liao in her hand hard.

Closer, nearer, in the dust flying in the sky, a man in purple galloping on a horse suddenly descended like a god.

His legs were clamped on the horse's belly, his handsome and uncast face was expressionless, and his whole body exuded an extremely arrogant momentum, even the many soldiers who followed him closely behind him were arrogant!

"Phew!"

He tightened the reins with both hands, and the horse spun in place for a moment before stopping, his cold and merciless eyes narrowed slightly, exuding an oppressive coldness at any moment.

And next to him was Yinglie, Leng Ru, but there was no figure.

"Long live the prince, long live, long live!"

The crowd knelt down in front of his horse and shouted "Long live!"

He is the king of the Northern Courtyard, and his prestige and shili are far higher than that of the little emperor of Great Qin, and the people who support him are already commensurate with him, which is already a well-known thing in Great Qin.

He didn't seem to take this title to heart, and his cold eyes slowly looked around in front of him, zuihou, his gaze fell on Su Yueming, who was tied to a wooden stake not far away.

Did she finally wake up?

His eyes were cold and emotionless, like a thousand-year-old ice cellar, and if she fell into this ice cellar, she would surely die.

Su Yueming was a little tired, but she still held on and looked back.

He leaped off his horse with long legs, and walked towards her with slightly squinted eyes.

The cheers stopped, and everyone's eyes followed Murong Canghai's figure, moving towards Su Yueming little by little.

He walked up to her and looked condescendingly at her as she sat on the ground, his gaze gently sweeping over her face.

In the end, he didn't say anything, and the corners of his cold lips tugged at a mocking smile, and then, turned away.

His figure walked into the tent in front of her, and she found herself soaking wet, relieved, leaning limply against the stake.

The meal was in front of her and she was so hungry!

You can't die, you have to live, you have to go back alive! A strong voice in his heart was shouting, and Su Yueming suddenly sat up and picked up the bowl in front of him.

There were no chopsticks or spoons, so she held the bowl in one hand and grabbed the food in the bowl with the other, and stuffed it into her mouth one by one, regardless of how embarrassed she was.

The food of this Daqin is different from the elaborate preparation that Da Zhou is used to, the food is made in a very rough way, and when you see the fresh beef, you can still see the blood.

She endured the feeling of nausea and wanted to vomit as she swallowed the food into her stomach fiercely and hard.

At this time, a cold wind blew, she shivered coldly, looked down, only to find that the original thick and luxurious brocade clothes on her body were gone, and now she was wearing an earthy gray ragged thin shirt, which could not even keep out the cold.

She killed him, he must have hated her so much, he will definitely find ways to torture her, she still has an extremely cruel battle to fight!