According to the annals of history, the prime minister's daughter Chaolai is talented and intelligent, and her appearance is unique. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info since childhood, good at calligraphy and painting, fine piano and chess, know the battle of soldiers, know the way of soldiers, but at the age of thirteen, has been respected by the world as the first talented woman in Chang'an. It's a pity that Hongyan has always had a thin life, and was accidentally buried in the sea of fire during a trip to Jiangnan, and the emperor sighed and made it a princess, named Fengyang.

The spring in the south of the Yangtze River comes early and fast, other places are still frozen for thousands of miles, the willows on the bank of the south of the Yangtze River have grown new shoots, and the peach blossoms opposite the attic are even more enchanting, looking at it, there are all pink petals, and there is one in between, red dripping blood.

"Jiangnan is graceful and beautiful, and the scenery is infinite. However, in response to the saying of the ancients, this scene is only in the sky, and it is rare to travel a few times in the world. ”

The cardamom woman in a goose yellow thin shirt leaned on the window frame with her hands on the window, sighing, and her eyes fell on the peach blossoms opposite. The eyebrows are picturesque, the posture is graceful, and the real person is more delicate than the flower.

"Miss, it's windy there, don't catch a cold, sit at your desk and read a book for a while."

The old girl added some charcoal to the stove next to the desk, and the room became warm, and the girl smiled, and when the person by the window walked to the desk and sat down, holding the book in her hand, she closed the window and left.

The bamboo tube was simply turned over, and the delicate fingers finally stopped on a yellowed silk cloth rolled in the bamboo tube.

She picked up the silk cloth and read softly, "I want to know you and live a long life." ”

The fragrance wafting from the incense burner also rushed to the paper full of affection, and at the same time, a lit fire fell into the room for no reason, so light that people felt nothing.

"How can there be such an infatuated woman in the world?"

Although he was disdainful of his words, he kept a smile on his face. She folded her sleeves in one hand and held a pen in the other, sketching on the paper, not hearing the slightest sound of footsteps coming from outside the attic.

The fire fold was thrown impartially on the curtain that fell to the ground, and was soon ignited, and spread with lightning speed, jumping up the pillars and beams in a moment.

Alarmed by the sudden turn of events, she hurriedly threw down her pen and ran to the door, where she brushed down the inkstone with her sleeve and the ink spilled right on the paper, covering all the handwriting.

The doors and windows were locked, and they couldn't be opened no matter what, and when I looked into the house, I couldn't find anything that could be used to extinguish the flames. The thin figure could only flee in all directions in the fire, shouting hoarsely and tirelessly slapping on doors and windows.

The fire was big enough to swallow her, but she didn't want to die, she thought, maybe, in a few moments, she could get out alive.

Finding a relatively safe corner and crouching, she curled up in a ball, helplessly watching the tongue of fire sweep away everything in the room.

She heard the crackling of the beams of the house, but she didn't expect it to fall over her head so quickly.

Blood ran down her forehead, drenching her eyes, and all she could see was a red eye, and she screamed in fear, which caused tongues of fire to climb up to the hem of her skirt and ignite the next fireball.

Pain, panic, fear, despair, she chose to close her eyes and not look again.

In the ancient books she remembered, it was said that if a person's soul is immortal, it can be reborn by attaching itself to the flowers and trees around it, but when it is reborn, it will live with the things it sends.

She does not seek to live a long life, does not seek glory and wealth, but only hopes to have the opportunity to continue her life for decades that she has not had time to experience.

She doesn't deserve to die, she doesn't deserve to die!

An hour, enough to turn the chic attic to ashes, the wind blew, raising a goose-yellow light smoke, only to see the light smoke swirl close to a red peach blossom, burrowed into the stamens, and disappeared, and at this time, the wind stopped.