Seven years later.

Winter.

The first snow of the year came late, and the first snow came in December, and overnight, the entire palace was decorated in silver, and the red walls and green tiles were covered in white snowflakes.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed that the entire palace was going to be covered in heavy snow.

Meng Ping stayed outside the Qingyin Palace, it was still early, he got up early, standing outside the door a little drowsy, I don't know when, sleepiness hit, he closed his eyes and dozed off, suddenly a cold wind hit, he nodded his head violently and woke up.

I happened to see Baiyuan walking from the courtyard wearing a cloak, and snow fell on his shoulders.

He hurriedly greeted him: "It's so early today, the emperor has just finished breakfast, and he is correcting the folds inside!" ”

"Got it."

Baiyuan swept away the snowflakes on his body, and then pushed the door in, and several stoves were lit in the hall, and the temperature was very warm, as soon as he entered, he felt warm all over his body, and it was very comfortable.

Over the years, the emperor's health has been not good, and he is very afraid of the cold, so every year in winter, the palace must light a few stoves, so that the emperor can feel a little warmer, otherwise, it will be difficult to spend the winter.

The man behind the desk who was correcting the folds did not look up when he heard the footsteps, his angular face was a little pale in the bright skylight, and on his lower head, Baiyuan could see the silver threads mixed in the hair.

Over the years, there have been more and more gray hairs on his head.

is obviously only in his thirties, and he is already like a person in his fifties and sixties.

Baiyuan felt bitter in his heart, after so many years, he thought that time could make people forget the injury, but now it seems that time cannot reduce the pain at all, and it has become deeper and deeper into the bone marrow with time.

It's just that time has one advantage, that is, people don't dare to revisit the old things easily.

"Today is the first day of junior high school, and her antidote has been delivered, right?" Before Bai Yuan could speak, Zhan Yu took the lead in opening his mouth, and his still low and beautiful voice sounded in the hall, peaceful and peaceful, lacking the previous edges and sharpness.

Baiyuan nodded, and placed a small red box on Zhan Yu's desk and placed it in front of him.

The small red box, the lid of the box is carved with a golden crocus, and the other decorations are gone.

This time, it's no exception.

He stretched out his plain white fingers, stroked the box on the surface of the velvet forging, and muttered, "I remember, Ah Qi, is the one who likes the lotus the most." ”

And over the years, the box she sent him for the antidote was in the shape of a lotus.

It would be sent every three months, and it was sent on the first day of the third month, just when the poison on his body attacked, and it was always able to save his life in time.

He knew she didn't want him dead.

Thinking about it all these years, she put him on the tip of her heart and hated him, his life has long been in her chessboard.

The man's fingers stroked the box one by one, his eyes lingered on it, there seemed to be her temperature still on the box, he stroked it like this, her temperature could be transmitted to his heart through this box, so that his eyes were gentle, and he smiled bitterly: "She has spent so many years laying out a chess game, you can know how deep the hatred is." ”

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