In the blink of an eye, Ye Mushen's mood returned to coldness.

Many years ago, he had made up his mind that if he could meet "him" again, he would never hurt this person between words and deeds like he did when he was a child.

However, this does not mean that "him" is connived.

Today's "he" is no longer weak and deceitful, but has done countless deceitful things.

This man...... Inside and out, it's really dirty.

Ling Shang took out a handkerchief from his arms and wiped his shoulder where it had been touched.

Ye Mushen's retracted hand seemed to suddenly detach from his body and hung down weakly.

"Let's go." Ling Shang rubbed the handkerchief into his palm, as if nothing had happened.

"Where to go?" Ye Mushen was stunned.

"Your Highness."

Ye Mushen looked at the little snow foam that fell on Ling Shang's black hair bundle, and was stunned, "Okay." ”

You Hai prepared a carriage for the two.

Along the way, Ye Mushen was so stuffy in the car that he couldn't breathe.

He wanted to say something to lighten the mood, but he really didn't want to say a word to this man.

Ling Shang hung his head all the way and contemplated something, as if he didn't feel the slightest embarrassment around him.

Zhou Mansion.

By the time the two of them had turned over the entire mansion, it was already late at night.

Inside the dark mansion, it was gloomy and desolate.

The only candlelight came from Zhou Yinchen's study.

Ye Mushen flipped through the letters and hand-made calligraphy and paintings on Zhou Yinchen's desk, trying to find some clues from them.

Ling Shang looked around the room, as if he was looking for some mechanism, and as if he was waiting for some vulture to appear.

"Really, where will it go?" Ye Mushen rubbed his eyebrows tiredly.

Ling Shang glanced back at him, wanting him to rest for a while, but he moved his lips but still didn't speak, and turned around and came to the alcove.

Ye Mushen looked at the sour poems written by Zhou Yinchen for Ye Mujing, and felt that there was sour water in his stomach.

He read it half-knowingly, and criticized it disdainfully, pedantic ordinary people, obsessed with petty love all day long, are really ignorant to the extreme.

As if by doing so, he would be able to draw a line with the self that was trapped by the wind and snow not long ago.

The snow outside the window has stopped, and Ye Mushen still has no clue.

He dozed off unconsciously, his hand resting on his chin.

On Jun's uneasy face, his long eyelashes fluttered shallowly with his breathing.

Ling Shang came to his side, hesitating whether to wake him up, and happened to see the poem in his hand-

"It's useless to be lovesick on a straight path, and it's madness to be melancholy."

The handwriting is sparse and the pen is thick, which shows the complexity of the mood of the person who wrote it.

Ling Shang looked away, his eyes were bloodshot.

He doesn't know anything about lovesickness.

I'm not interested in understanding it.

"Ah Shen......" Ling Shang called softly, and immediately changed his words, "Night Hall Master...... Do you know where Mrs. Zhou's relics are placed? ”

Ye Mushen snorted, and simply lowered his head to the table and fell asleep.

Ling Shang was also a little helpless about Ye Mushen's reaction.

Looking at his still somewhat haggard face, Ling Shang clenched his fingers and resisted the urge to peel off his face.

Ling Shang retreated to another corner of the study and sat cross-legged on the spot, closing his eyes and sitting up like a monk.

The candle flame was extinguished unconsciously, but Ling Shang saw a dizzying and increasingly anxious picture in the lightless world.

On the other side of the darkness, Ye Mu Shen was far away from a whole sea of stars, burning himself angrily.

Ling Shang's existence was too dazzling, and even the light of Mu Shen was hidden overnight.

Thirteen years ago, Ye Mujing was attracted to him, and Ye Ziling was also amazed by him.

Even the emperor, who was most important to Ye Mushen, once said something like "you should take Ayan as an example" after hearing about the deeds of the scholar.

But only Ye Mushen knows his filthy nature.

Ling Shang opened his sour eyes, turned his head to look at the lonely and bleak light that fell to the ground through the paper window, and could no longer sleep.