The door opens.

As soon as Fu Yan raised his eyes, he saw Mo Lingfeng sitting in the Taishi chair in front of the Buddha statue, holding the armrests of the chair with both hands, and his eyes were like electricity, shooting towards Fu Yan.

Although he is a prisoner, he has no embarrassment.

The heart of the phoenix eyes jumped, and when he stepped in, the sky was darker by two minutes, and the ashram was also darkened, and there was a large shadow on the Buddha statue, like a hellish ghost stretching out its claws to cover the Buddha's eyes.

Mo Leaf's face was the same as that of the Buddha statue, gloomy and gloomy, staring at him, as if he wanted to eat his flesh and blood.

Fu Yan's hair stood upside down, and the hand behind him grabbed the tabloid hard, and his footsteps followed, and then he sneezed.

He turned his head and told the jailer, "Raise a brazier and come in."

It's hard to see the light of day, and it's colder than outside.

Walking in again, he found that Nomad Qing was lying on the Sumeru seat, sleeping on all fours, and when he saw someone coming in, he dragged the mud and water to get up, walked to Mo Lingfeng's side, and stood still, drooping his eyelids, listless, and his stomach let out a long roar.

"General," Nomad Qing touched his stomach and looked at Fu Yan with his eyes, "Yushitai Prison doesn't care about drinking water, why don't you ask for an order, go to Dali Temple or the Criminal Department."

Fu Yan let out an "oops", rolled the tabloid in his hand into a roll, slammed it on the head of a monitor, and scolded, "I'm not here, why didn't I even forget the water? Why don't you do it yet!"

The inspector received a trivial blow, confessed his guilt again and again, and ran out to prepare tea and dinner, while another inspector went to the oil lamp, drew out the fire fold, blew out the spark, and leaned in front of the wick to light it.

A jailer came in with two steaming teacups and put them on a small table beside Mo Lingfeng, Nomad Muqing reached out to serve the teacups, shook it hotly, withdrew his hand and pinched his earlobe, and after a while, he took two mouthfuls of "Huhu", and took a sip from his mouth to the side of the bowl, letting out a loud sigh.

He and Mo Lingfeng have not touched the water since they were imprisoned yesterday.

Mo Lingfeng was not in a hurry.

Fu Yan was coy, wanting to cut off her water and force her to show her embarrassed appearance, but she was not as he wished, stretched out her fingers, and lightly played with the white gas above the teacup.

"Dali Temple and the Criminal Department are not empty at this time," Fu Yan sat on the Sumeru seat, the stone seat was cold, and as soon as his buttocks were touched, he lifted it up and sat back in the Taishi chair, "Your Majesty ordered the three divisions to interrogate Master Wu."

He handed the tabloid to the superintendent: "Show it to General Mo."

The supervisor took it in his hand, walked over and was about to hand it over to Mo Lingfeng, but Nomad Qing first reached out and grabbed it, unfolded it and glanced at it, and there was no abnormality before giving it to Mo Lingfeng.

Mo Lingfeng glanced at it, and immediately saw a strong smell of blood from it.

Thirty-six of the Death Counsel and the Court Staff.

She didn't miss a word, from the beginning to the end, the brazier quietly moved in, put it in front of her to bake her legs, she threw the tabloid into the fire, picked up the teacup, and drank half of it slowly.

"It seems that Fu Zhongcheng not only wants to inquire about my collaboration with the enemy, but also has to add one more instruct to Master Wu to attack and annihilate His Majesty, so as to disrupt the dynasty."

Fu Yan smiled, and after laughing, he saw the superintendent coming in with a food box, waved his hand and said, "General Mo will eat first, inquire about something, don't be in a hurry."

He stepped back into his chair and crossed his hands over his abdomen to watch Mo Leaf's every move.

The meal was simple, it was eight steamed cakes that were steamed in a hurry, two plates of pickles, Mo Lingfeng glanced at it: "Fu Zhongcheng, is there any sugar?"

Fu Yan turned his head to look at the inspector: "Take the sugar."

The inspector blew out like a wind, and then blew back, panting, and brought a small bowl of sugar.

During this period, the nomadic Qing devoured two steamed cakes, ate a chopstick pickles, and ate five steamed cakes and a plate and a half pickles, and drank the tea in one fell swoop.

Sand sugar was placed on the table, he took advantage of the situation and threw a little into his mouth, and then licked his fingers.

Fu Yan finished watching the short gluttonous eating, and then looked at Mo Lingfeng, Mo Lingfeng ate the eight winds without moving, took steamed cakes dipped in sugar and ate them, after eating one, drank two sips of tea, and ate another one.

Fu Yan looked at it, but he couldn't see the panic and flaws from Mo Lingfeng, but he saw the saliva out of breath, and quietly swallowed a big mouthful of saliva, and choked on the saliva for a while

coughed violently.

He hurriedly hid his face and got up, pretending to be calm and walked out, coughing as he walked, and walked out of the prison cell, the cold wind outside blew "fluttering", and he salivated more and more about the steamed cake dipped in sugar.

Back in the front room, he took a deep breath, suppressed his appetite, and narrowed his eyes, thinking that he still had to start with Wu Jin.

Wu Jin has parents and brothers, he himself is not afraid of death, is he not afraid of implicating his family?

It's just that his family is far away in Kuanzhou, how can we deter him to the greatest extent?

While thinking, he walked out of the imperial history platform, looked at the blue sky, and instructed his entourage: "Prepare a sedan chair and go to the palace."

The night encroached on the light of the sky little by little, and the Yushitai hung up the lantern early, and when the lights could not dispel the stalemate of the night, Mo Lingfeng moved his hands and feet in the fine house, and said in a low voice, "Are the people of Wu Desi here?"

"Not there."

"Knives."

Nomad Muqing pulled out a sharp knife from his boot, untied the white muslin wrapped around the blade, and handed the knife to Mo Lingfeng - he was just an inconspicuous character in this conspiracy, hiding a knife.

Mo Lingfeng took it in his hand, and with a slight shake, the blade immediately made a clear and lonely cold sound, and on the blade, half of her face was reflected, and when she moved slightly, her face twisted, elongated, blurred, and turned into a strange light and shadow.

She stabbed the knife at her waist in case she needed it.

The tabloid had been reduced to ashes in the brazier, but she remembered every word on it.

reported to Wu Jin, with her own strength, invincible, split the hypocrisy of the dynasty, and saved her from being humiliated in the imperial history platform - at this time she should have been tortured, Wu Jin's recital made the court situation unpredictable, and the imperial history platform did not dare to act rashly.

He is not Zhao Shiheng, he is not Qi Chang, he has a heroic spirit, a backbone, a temperament, and his own way.

She was going to see this man, just as she had been through a blizzard.

Nomad Muqing opened the door of the house, and there were two prison guards outside, drowsy, yawning, hearing the sound of the door, he hurriedly shook his spirits, holding the saber on his waist with his left hand and the handle of the knife with his right hand.

"The general should clean his hands," the nomadic Qing walked out and yawned, "I'm tired of closing the door."

Mo Lingfeng is a woman, he is a man, it is not the first time to avoid it, the jailer did not think much about it, the two turned around together, one hooked a copper ring, and was about to pull the door shut, when there was a sudden pain in the back of his neck, and then his eyes turned black and fell to the ground softly.

Mo Lingfeng walked out, his heart was urgent, he stepped on the hand of the jailer, and walked into the road where the lights were shaking.

When she came, the Imperial Prison was still empty, only the dark smell, but for a day and night, a fishy smell accumulated in the corridor, mixed with the pungent smell of medicine, and the smell of defecation, hidden in the two, which was unbearable.

In addition, the damp qi also surged upward, as thin as a cow's hair, and the tarsal bone corroded the marrow.