"Oh," she didn't expect this to be the answer, and was silent for a moment.

Qingshan Temple has a Buddhist hall for people to put tablets, and they are all souls who can't enter the ancestral hall. He is a noble prince, why does he have an old man who can't enter the ancestral hall after death?

This is a private matter, and she doesn't want to ask too much.

She patted the stone bench next to her and motioned for him to sit down: "You are too tall, my neck is sore." ”

He was taller than her, and he was still standing, and she had to tilt her head to talk to him, and she was very tired.

Helian Haoer smiled, the smile was faint, insignificant, and quickly disappeared.

He flicked his hem and sat down on the stone bench next to her.

The two of them faced the void, and the cool wind from the mountains was flowing from her, and he smelled the faint fragrance of plum blossoms again.

There are no plum blossoms in this season, where does the plum fragrance come from?

"Are all the princes in the palace like you?" she said suspiciously, not turning her head to look at him.

"Huh?" he didn't understand her words.

"It's just," she blinked, as if pondering how to explain it, and after a pause, continued, "it looks lonely. ”

Lonely, does he look lonely?

He was in a trance all of a sudden.

For a long time, she didn't hear his answer, she turned her head to ask him, he was just about to answer, he also turned his head, and the eyes of the two met for a short distance.

Her eyes were bright and clean, like snow in the wax moon, and like a bright moon in the night, and he suddenly forgot what he wanted to say.

She blinked, reached out and touched his face, her tone serious and puzzled, "Are you sad?"

His body shook, but this time he didn't avoid her hand, staring straight at her, as if he wanted to see her through, with a bit of compelling sharpness.

She frowned slightly, and just wanted to withdraw her hand, he suddenly grabbed her hand, her hand was soft and small, and the palm of her hand had a thin layer of cocoons due to years of practicing long whips.

Her eyes widened and her heart was beating a little fast.

Her father, mother, and three older brothers also held her hand from time to time, and they all treated her as a child, and she didn't think it was okay to hold hands.

But this man's palm seemed to be very hot, and the knuckles were slender and distinct, with the softness of a young man and the hardness of a man.

She could hear the sound of her own heart pounding, and she saw that a complicated look seemed to flash across his face, surprise, joy, sadness, loneliness, and patience.

She didn't understand why, but she earned it.

His eyes returned to clarity, and he quickly let go of her hand, lowered his eyes slightly, and had a little embarrassment on his face: "I'm sorry." ”

There was still his residual warmth in his palm, and the place where he had grabbed it seemed to be still hot. She touched her nose and shook her head, thinking to herself that he probably didn't like people touching his face.

Her hands were warm and soft, he remembered that when he was a child, his mother always touched his face to coax him to sleep, her voice was low and soft, her palms were warm, and he always fell asleep quickly.

It's been so many years, it's been many years since anyone touched his face.

That time in the back garden of Changning Palace, when the snow pressed the branches of the plum tree, she touched his face and said, "Your face is very cold." ”

In my impression, when it didn't snow in winter when he was a child, when he stood on the porch and watched the snow fall silently on the ground and disappear quickly, his mother always squatted down and hugged him, touched his face and said gently: "Hao'er, is it cold?"

He always shook his head.

Is it cold, in fact, it is cold, but his mother's hand is so warm, so gently touching his face, he suddenly feels not cold.

That day, she asked him in the plum blossoms that were flying all day long, "Aren't you cold?"

At the time he was tempted to say, cold. But he couldn't speak.

For more than ten years, he has survived in the besieged palace every day, and he no longer knows what cold is, it may be that his blood and flesh have become cold and hard, cold to the bone.