The woman in white lay leisurely on the tree, swinging her legs, her high hair hanging down and caressing the pear blossoms, her eyes glanced lightly, and the people under the tree were silent for a long time.

took the last bite of the pastry in his hand and said, "Brother Ziqian is so contemplative, but who do you want to protect?" ”

Hearing this, the man raised his head.

He was also dressed in white, his eyebrows and eyes were like paintings, seeing her face, his eyes were dyed with tenderness, and he smiled slowly: "Who else is there besides leaning?" ”

Hearing this, the smile on his face became stronger, and he held up the branches in his palms, turned over, and the ground was covered with snow white, fluttering, and a few petals fell into the hair of the ion.

"It's not stupid to lean."

"Do you want to believe it?" The man asked rhetorically, as he was accustomed to serving tea.

She didn't say anything, just playfully raised her eyebrows, sat down, supported her cheek with one hand, and jumped on her long sword with the fingers of the other, and the fragrance of tea lingered in her nose that she had long been accustomed to.

"After three years, the pear blossoms will bloom, and you will be an adult." Ziqian's fingers stretched out, and there was an extra jade hairpin in his palm, which was snow-white, and only the tail of the hairpin carved an orchid, which was a little green.

"Send me?"

"Hmm."

He pouted and took it, and his eyebrows and eyes were disgusted: "What do I want it for?" It's not as good as a famous sword to win my heart. ”

"Pouring is going to grow up, when it pours, the green silk has to be pulled up, how can there be less hairpins?" Libai chuckled.

"Pouring into the future, he is an inspirational person who wants to be a general, and when he fights on the battlefield, he needs this daughter's thing?" Although the words are disgusting, they are also good to be born in their arms.

Libai shook his head helplessly, looking at her, her willow eyebrows and apricot eyes, not changing a trace of immaturity.

"His Royal Highness the Prince."

A sound sounded, his eyebrows and eyes were dyed with coldness, and he said coldly: "What's the matter?" ”

"Master Mo has returned home."

Ziqian drank all the tea in the cup in one gulp, stood up, and the wind carried away the petals in his hair, so he was decisive.

He was also accustomed to his sudden departure, and only looked at him fixedly.

Suddenly, Ziqian turned around.

Her eyes flashed in a hurry.

"By the way, I will paint the plum blossoms on your adult forehead, and you can't allow others."

Tilting was stunned for a moment, and after coming back to his senses, Fang Qingcrisp replied, "Okay." ”

Gently hooked away from the corner of the white mouth, turned away, as if taking away all the colors, and left her alone in the wind.

He attached his sword to his sword, stood up, and danced in the wind.

Ziqian, the prince of the northern country, a young talent, and her childhood sweetheart, talented and beautiful, they say this, she always denies it, but she is happy in her heart.

With only one sentence from him, she wants to protect her the most in this life, so she can do everything and leave him alone.

……

However, she never thought about it, it was just three years.

She wore a skirt he gave to congratulate her on coming of age.

However, in an instant, the wind blew the flowers and fell, the Mofu Zhuli flowers were decadent, and the snow-colored petals fell into a pool of blood.

She slumped to the ground, somehow.

only let the blood stain the red clothes, and the red hairpin was scattered all over the ground, only a little cinnabar in the center of the eyebrows was very red.

The woman of the first palace stood in front of her and called her softly.

She only asked, "What about Ziqian?" ”

"Your Majesty is busy with state affairs, so you can't come, just let the slave and maid inform the young lady that the people are also leaving, please mourn and change, don't waste your body."

"Can't come?"

She raised her head and glanced at the woman in front of her, and instantly tears filled her eyes and she had rouge on her face.

It hurts, it hurts, the cold wind seems to blow into her bones, turning into a sharp blade, slashing her one by one.

If it was a dream, when would she wake up.