What makes her feel most disappointed is that when she faces these things, she doesn't even have someone to talk to. She is usually amiable, but because of her identity, most of her relatives and friends like her with some awe, and the subordinates put her on top, only Xu Lanjiang is willing to associate with her, but she avoids it.

The crown is covered with Jinghua, and the people are alone and haggard. Is this the poem talking about her current situation...... No, today's Flying Dragon Castle, where can it still be regarded as a crown full of Jinghua?

As soon as the news of his father's death came out, many colleagues in the martial arts came to mourn. But after a few busy days, An Xueli found that most of the people who came had bad intentions, they were actually here to watch the future fate of Feilong Castle, and pay attention to whose hands this territory, which was once known as the first castle in the world, would eventually fall into.

In the past two days, Spiegel has heard some rumors from Bao'er, and it is said that the rivers and lakes have begun to fight over who is the first in the world.

It seems that her father's words are really not wrong, and the outside world is far more chaotic and complicated than she knows and imagines.

This night, An Xueli left Feilong Castle again.

She didn't want to escape, she just wanted to find a quiet place and be alone to clear her messy thoughts.

Lao Zhao drove the carriage anxiously, and didn't hear her speak for a long time. Finally, I couldn't help but ask, "Miss, where are we going?" She suddenly came back to her senses, and then remembered that she hadn't told Lao Zhao where she was going. But where can you go? She sighed, "Qinglan Mountain." The bleak wind was everywhere on Qinglan Mountain, where her mother was buried, and soon her father would be buried here.

Kneeling at her mother's grave, letting the moon's light shine over herself and her tombstone, she sighed and sat down. "Mother, my daughter has come to see you, and my daughter has a lot of things that I can't understand, I really hope my mother can tell me." She brought her beloved guqin, the sound of the piano on her lap, facing the red handwriting on her mother's tombstone, and plucked the strings in amazement.

The sad and bitter sound of the piano echoed in the mountains and forests, and she calmed down, trying to throw away all the things that bothered her, immersing herself in the sound of the piano, and trying to find the answers to all the troubles through the sound of the piano.

Rubbing the strings, tears dripped down the strings one by one, the jerky strings cut her fingers, cut the flesh of the fingers, and the blood droplets mixed with the teardrops dripped together, staining the strings red.

Only under this bright moon, before the tombstone, will she shed out the fragility that belongs to a girl in the depths of her heart.

"It seems that the person who uses the piano to express his depression is now a girl?" A faint voice rang out from the mountains.

Her fingers trembled, and another drop of blood dripped onto her snow-white dress.

"Who is it?" She asked in a trembling voice.

In the darkness of the night, a black figure slowly approached, and the bright eyes that had been haunting her mind with familiarity shone brightly.

"Is that you?" She whispered, "How are you ...... Will it be here?" "That's fate." He smiled faintly. Leaning down, he pulled her fingers up and examined them carefully, "I said that the sound of the piano should not be plucked with a wounded finger with such a heavy sadness. Does it hurt the piano or the heart?" An Xueli watched in amazement as the other party held her hand and covered her injured fingertips with a snow-white handkerchief.

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