The first morning bell of Tanglin rang, and Bo Xi broke the dawn.

Cheng Yingyu put down Luo Zidai and looked at the familiar and unfamiliar faces in the mirror.

It's been three years.

Re-painted rouge, painted eyebrows, and wore my red robe, and my already beautiful face bloomed with a scorching light.

The people in time slowly overlapped, stacked into a face that faded away in greenness, intertwined with confusion and engraving.

It's all about the past. Just now, back.

Boom. The third morning bell rang, Cheng Ying got up, pushed the door and walked towards the Mausoleum of the Mourning Emperor.

The snow is falling again. One after another, the sky is full of jade dust, the imperial tomb is green and green, and it is silent under the snow.

Cheng Ying stepped into the snow with one foot deep and one foot shallow, and the bright red Zhaojun Qiu was like a red cherry, hidden in the boundless snow white.

She staggered, the snow was too deep, the whistling north wind made it difficult for her to breathe, and she was alone in the world.

Finally, she crossed the gate of Qi'en and came to the foot of the green mountain, in front of which was a straight Shinto, a dwarf pine verdant, a shrine dedicated to the tablet at the end, and the red wall and glazed tiles were very similar to those days, as well as his imperial palace.

Emperor Mourning Emperor Apocalypse.

Vaguely, clearly, she saw six seal scripts on the tablet in the middle of the temple.

She couldn't help but tremble, like a dream for years, becoming a nightmare in front of her eyes.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Your Majesty......" the woman murmured dreamily as she struggled to step through the knee-deep snow on the Shinto.

Walk towards him.

In the wind and snow, in the haze, she saw him walking towards her.

The pale face is choked with the most gentle starlight in the world, the smile at the corners of the eyebrows and eyes, and the thin lines.

Dressed in a bright yellow shirt and a clear face, he walked towards her like the wedding of the Kyushu Tongqing back then.

Greetings, his wife.

It's been three years, and there are old people who are not old. There are people, but they are not what they used to be.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Your Majesty......"

The woman quickened her pace, trying to call him in the voice of a twelve-year-old in her memory.

Just like when she wore a red hijab, her small body dragged a long palace robe, and walked towards her husband.

In the past, I went back, the willows were still around, and now I think about it, and the rain and snow are falling.

The woman suddenly became a little nervous. What should she say the moment she saw him?

said that she grew up, said that he was old, or the peony of the imperial palace was still the same, but they all became the past written by the historian.

As if he had never existed in this world, he had never watered a history with hot and turbid tears, he and she had become the wind that blew over Shengjing, and no one remembered.

Or, she should tell him that since he parted, she would never plant six flowers again, and the six flowers in the old palace of the imperial palace had become waste grass.

Or, she has been doing "Hua Er" for three years, with a similar sound, waiting for the return of her soul one day, and she can still be found in the vicissitudes of life.

Yes, flowers.

She had been waiting for him.

At this moment, he walked up to her, smiled at her, and called her.

Flower.

In the dark, the mountains and rivers are silent.

Suddenly, the woman was confused.

Time shattered in that moment, in the chaotic light and shadow, and she felt herself getting smaller, shorter, and her cheeks grew back to the flesh of the twelve.

Until that day, she had been locked up in a splendid mansion, looking up at the octagonal sky from the patio.

After that day, she saw him in red clothes pick up the hijab with a weighing rod, squat down, and smile at her.

Flowers, I call you flowers, okay?

So, in this life, she was saved.

So, in her life, she also caused the first knot.

After all, she didn't know what she should tell him, and usually asked him if he was doing well, and whether there were six flowers blooming wantonly at the end of the Yellow Spring.

"Your Majesty......"

The woman walked too quickly, and the snow was so deep that she plopped and planted herself in the snow.

However, she scrambled to her feet, and the snow did not bother to wipe it, and still staggered towards him.

I want to hurry up and see if he is what he was back then, and I want to hear him call again, flowers.

Thump. The woman was planted in the snow again, and the snow foam got through the hem of her clothes, and her face was bruised in an instant.

However, she just stood up and continued to walk towards him, these three years are too difficult to cross, the sins of this life are all bitter.

So she fell again, and went forward, and fell, and walked forward, and I don't know how many times the woman had fallen in the snow, and her little face was pale, and her palms were cut by ice slag, and they were full of blood.

But she still didn't stagnate. Hurried towards him, for fear that if he was a little slower, he would leave her again.

The wind and snow are gone, the voice is called, and the dream is born.

She sang, hazy and sleepy, moaning desolately, drifting away with the north wind.

“…… Jun buried the mud under the spring, and I sent the world full of snow...... I send the world full of snow ......"

The woman sang softly, sang sadly, the cuckoo cried blood, and there was only one person in heaven and earth.

Where is the man waiting for her?

All she saw was the shrine at the end of Shinto, with five seal books on the tablet.

Emperor Mourning Emperor Apocalypse.

He slept here, never to return, never to call her flowers again, and to smile brightly with the stars.

Yes, she's the only one left.

The woman trembled and began to chant tirelessly, her voice hoarse, and she did not stop chanting.

“…… Jun buried the mud under the spring, and I sent the world full of snow......"

……

Did you know that today, snow. On a December day, I came to see you, and in the snow, I saw you smiling at me.

Do you know, the world has been tossing and turning, how many long nights have been sleepless, and I call your name, but no one answers.

……

Jun buried the mud under the spring, and I sent the world full of snow.

Jun buried the mud under the spring, and I sent the world full of snow.

……

Cheng Yingyu stretched out her hand to the snow, the snowflakes melted in the hot palm, and she couldn't catch anything.

Even the flying snow, a wisp of wind, and a grain of ice above his mausoleum, she couldn't keep anything.

Only Qingshan is eternal, he will never leave her again in time and memory.

“…… Jun buried the mud under the spring, and I sent the world full of snow......"

The woman finally spat out, feeling blood running down the corners of her lips.

She smiled, and then planted it.

In her blurred vision, she saw a touch of colored clothes, it was Zhao Xixing's guy, he turned off his horse and ran towards her in a hurry.

"Cheng Yingyu !!"

He called to her, a somewhat broken cry, overlapping with the voice calling the flowers in the dark.

She wanted to answer him, but her throat was broken, and she couldn't say anything.

He ran to her with a white face and sweating profusely, and picked her up by the waist, the warmth from the palm of his hand, and the brightest light in his eyes.

It's beautiful.

Didn't you go with you to worship Emperor Shun?

The confusion in her eyes asked him.

"I'm worried about you! I'm afraid that your heart will be too heavy and there will be some stubble, so I will rush back in a hurry of 800 miles! Fool, you fool! Come! Pass on the Imperial Doctor! Come! ”

Known as a saint, he has always had a calm and solemn face, and the corners of his lips trembled with fear.

He carried her and rushed towards the Imperial Hospital, and she turned around one last time, crossed his shoulder, and saw that the man in the bright yellow shirt had returned.

Standing at the end of the temple, with a pale face, smiling, looking at her as if saying goodbye.

Cheng Yingyu also smiled. Then he closed his eyes in reassurance.

At the last moment when the world turned dark, she seemed to hear a gentle voice at the end of the temple that was getting farther and farther away.

Don't be afraid of flowers.

……

Okay, flowers, don't be afraid.

The light outside this cage.

The Wind Rider in this light.