In front of the carved bronze mirror, a dazzling array of hair ornaments is placed on a table, pink crystal jade inlaid with foaming white jade, and long broken beads and tassels are placed on the edge of the table.

Running impatient, she threw her hair ornament to the ground and turned back to control her anger.

On the ground knelt a young and strong man, surrounded by guards who had escorted him.

He was frightened by the sound of Su Rong throwing his hair ornament, and lowered his head even lower.

"Say, who made that pot of wine?"

He only promised for a long time, and he couldn't say why.

Her gaze was like an arrow, and after nodding, one of the guards grabbed the man's hand and stabbed it down, and his little finger rolled to the ground.

Howling like a pig, blood splattered onto the hem of her skirt, which she wiped with her handkerchief in disgust and threw it behind her.

"Yes, Lord Wang, it was Lord Wang who changed the wine, it's really none of his subordinates' business!" The man was fainting in pain, and he forced himself to speak.

Su Rong was silent for a while, then swished to get up, sweeping all the things on the table to the ground with her arms, and there was a loud sound in the ping-pong room.

She braced her upper body, trying to calm her anger, but she couldn't help but vent.

The green tendons on her forehead jumped suddenly, she didn't understand, he obviously forgot, why, why did he save that woman?

"Got him done." As soon as the cold words came out, the man was dragged down before he could beg for mercy.

She sat on the ground decadently, her right hand clenched little by little, if she had a little sympathy for Liu Sujin before, now, she just wanted to cut her with a thousand knives.

The mist is thinning and the air is slowly getting cooler.

The summer trees are flourishing, the greenery is thick, and everything is quiet.

On the other side, in the study, the Xiaoxuan window was slightly opened, and the breeze wrapped around the window.

There are seven or eight painting scrolls placed on the desk, among which there are landscapes splashed with ink, there are flowers, there are also freehand black and white, and a few are depicting Luo Yu's girlish appearance, at that time Luo Yu liked him to paint for her, and it was also at that time that he liked to paint.

It's just that among the many scrolls, there is one that is very eye-catching, and the blank space of the plain white scroll is painted with half-opened white hibiscus flowers, stained with light pink. The flowers bloom strongly, the center of the picture scroll, is a woman wearing a light dress, the veil covers her face, the only eyes exposed, smart and beautiful, obviously a gentle outline, but is filled with indifference, looking at it from a distance, like a fairy in the painting, it is unattainable.

He could recognize at a glance that the painting was his own handwriting, but the person in the painting, and he didn't understand why it was her.

He didn't remember when he painted this painting, but he could see that the painting was made with heart, and it was actually a little more amazing than Luo Yu's portrait and the ink-splashed landscape that he was best at.

In fact, he spared her life, in addition to hating her for killing Luo Yu, and secondly, because he felt that something was wrong, he could obviously feel that some of his memories were missing, but he couldn't remember it anyway. Intuition told him that this matter was inextricably linked to her, and he must find out.

Actually, it was too easy to kill her, he only needed to move his fingers, she was not his opponent.

But there is always a force in his heart that is hindering, no matter how much he hates or hates her, he can't do it.

One by one, the scrolls were folded together, and he pondered for a while, placing the scroll about her in a separate mahogany box.

He put on his coat, and the little servant waited at the door.

"Come on, prepare the horses." In a few words, he seemed reluctant to stay any longer.

The little servant took the order and led the white horse to come.

Before he could step on his horse, hurried footsteps could be heard behind him.

"Where are you going?" Su Rong smiled happily and held the peach blossom soup made by meditation in her hand. "The concubine has prepared some dishes, it's better to ......"

"No need." He only paused, and the movement of getting on the horse did not stop in the slightest. "There is something to discuss in the palace, you won't come back tonight, you can rest early."

All her words were in her throat, but she still had to smile and watch him go.

The direction he was walking was obviously not the direction of the palace, but he treated her like a fool!

"Madam, do you want to send someone to follow the prince."

She indifferently poured the peach blossom soup into the garden and wiped her fingers with embroidered silk. "You think he can follow me if I want? Don't steal chickens and rice, there's always a chance, I'll wait. ”

Walking slowly, the willows on the riverside are still clinging, and the silky branches are swaying with the wind.

He drove to sparsely populated places, and everywhere he looked, there was greenery.

It took about an hour to get to the place, and the detours were twists and turns, and if you didn't know the route with a light car, people who came here for the first time would definitely get lost.

He bought this small courtyard five years ago, thinking that one day he would do everything and return to the mountain to recuperate, but he didn't expect it to become Luo Yu's mourning hall.

Step into the small courtyard, quiet, no sound.

Although it is a small and delicate place in his heart, it actually requires sixteen houses and several small roads, and such a huge place only has Liu Sujin and the maid called Red Sleeves, so all the cleaning and maintenance here has become Liu Sujin's business alone. He deliberately wanted to embarrass her, so he didn't recruit anyone, only four or five guards were at the door.

"Lord Wang." Red Sleeves held the food, saw him, and saluted.

"What about her?" He untied his coat and was a little tired on the way to his horse.

Red sleeves said: "It's been the seventh day since I copied the scriptures in the Buddhist hall, and I hardly eat much on weekdays, and I can't eat it." She flipped through the food in her hand, and could see that it was almost untouched.

He didn't speak, walked away, and when he reached the door of the Buddha hall, he paused for a long time and gently pushed the door open.

The white gauze is ethereal, layered and rippling, rippling with ripple-like lines.

Next to the low desk, there was a large pile of written paper, and the handwriting was dense.

Some of the white paper was moved by the wind and fell to the ground with a subtle sound.

She lay down on the table, sleeping soundly, her face smeared with a little ink, and the thin white skirt was mottled with marks.

For a moment, he suddenly wanted to cover her with the coat in his hand, but he took a step back and slowly cleared his thoughts.

The small block on the rice paper was upright and delicate, and he couldn't help but pick up a sheet to look at. The handwriting is so familiar that I can't say why it's familiar.

His afterglow fell on the well-defined silhouette of her face, thin and haggard giving her a little more pitiful rhyme.

"Wake her up." He walked out of the Buddha hall with a cold expression. "Let her change into clean clothes and go to the front hall to serve the king for dinner."

"Yes." Red Sleeves replied, and just as he was about to go in, he said again: "Four dishes and one soup, let her cook it alone, don't interfere." ”

Red Sleeves was stunned for a moment, nodded, and lifted her skirt in.

She knew that the prince was deliberately making things difficult for Miss Jin, and it was tiring enough to copy scriptures and clean the mourning hall all night, and it was really a bit ...... She sighed, blushing.