i have a sword fairy

About that person's love letter, she was very anxious when she was outside, but now she is not in a hurry when she returns to the boudoir.

She has always had a valuable experience—the process is more delicious than the result, which makes people have endless aftertaste. This process of carefully tasting the sweet taste makes her very happy.

After savoring a certain feeling for a while, Concubine Zhao Ling moved and walked slowly to the wardrobe next to the dressing table.

This is one of the most intimate places in a women's boudoir.

Concubine Zhao Ling opened the closet, blushing slightly, and quietly opened those favorite clothes and private obscene clothes, looking for something inside

In the private corner of this private place, there is hidden the most cherished private item of this Qinglian, a legacy of the Taiqing Mansion, which has been longed for by countless men.

After a while, Concubine Zhao Ling squinted her eyes, moved aside the pile of neatly stacked wedding dresses in the closet, and took out a beautiful wooden box hidden underneath.

The embroidered box is thick, black lacquered all over, tied with a red ribbon around a circle, and tied with a beautiful bow.

Holding the embroidery box carefully, she squatted down in front of the dressing table, leaning against the dressing table with her curled delicate body.

Concubine Zhao Ling put the embroidery box on her knees, and gently pulled one end of the red ribbon with her hand.

The embroidery box is opened.

In front of outsiders, she has always given the impression of being arrogant and self-improving, but now she is like a kitten quietly hiding in a corner, happily counting her belongings.

At this time, the house was very quiet.

Concubine Zhao Ling, who was crouching on the ground with her body curled up, gradually lowered her head and buried it between her knees.

The embroidery box was resting on her lap.

Concubine Zhao Ling's palm-sized oval face was parallel to the side of the embroidery box, her small nose was touching the surface of the box, and her long eyes were twinkling at the moment, slowly crossing the edge of the box mouth, her eyes sneaked into the box, Quietly looked up.

There was a crimson post inside, which was the marriage letter between her and Zhao Rong.

There is a small strand of black hair tied with a red string, which was supposed to be tied with Zhao Rong's black hair on the wedding night, but so far, this red string is still tied with her black hair .

No one has ever tied hair with her in this life.

In the corner of the box, there is a neatly stacked white embroidered handkerchief, on which there are two fat, um, two mandarin ducks. She always thinks the embroidery is very beautiful, but someone holds a completely opposite view, but this is also why she It was the most beautiful handkerchief embroidered in the past year, so she brought it close to her body all the way into the wedding room at the beginning, and when the man was away, she blushed and put it under the fiery red acacia quilt.

It's just that Bai Xipa, commonly known in this hometown, is still white, without the slightest color of the marriage bed.

How it was brought away in the first place, and how it was brought back later.

In fact, she was very familiar with what was in this box, but ever since he took away the jade that she had carefully raised for five years and left that night, Concubine Zhao Ling rarely opened it, even if she couldn't help it for some reason. Open it with the same care as now.

However, now that Zhao Rong has come back to look for her, for this embroidery box that she thought would never be opened again and again, although she still has such a "cowardly" pitiful appearance, it will be difficult to change it back for a while, but The pair of eyes exposed on the edge of the box mouth still couldn't help smiling.

At this time, Concubine Zhao Ling was like a greedy kitten.

Tasting memories.

Added the memory of the seasoning "him".

It is no longer the astringent taste without "him" in the past.

Concubine Zhao Ling's gaze "stroked" the many items in the box one by one, occasionally stopping on some special things.

For example, Fang Bai Xipa was actually wiped by Zhao Rong at that time.

This, how can this thing wipe your mouth, shame... shame to death...

The woman gritted her silver teeth secretly, and spat lightly, but her eyes overflowed with soft and weak shame, like warm spring water.

The contents of the box.

Except for a few things belonging to Aunt Liu and Qian'er, all of them, all of them, are related to him.

Concubine Zhao Ling's eyes were gentle.

I do not know how long it has been.

She came back to herself in a daze.

Reaching out, reaching into the embroidery box, he gently took out a well-preserved letter.

This is the first letter that Zhao Rong sent to Concubine Zhao Ling in this life.

She was as happy back then as she is now.

There are only a few lines in this letter.

"The flowers on Moshang are blooming, you can return home slowly."

then.

At that time, she couldn't wait to go back to get married with the woven wedding dress and raised Moyu...

Concubine Zhao Ling put away the embroidery box, got up, and brought this first love letter—the first love letter she stubbornly believed—to the desk.

Concubine Zhao Ling took out the seven brocade boxes, opened them one by one, and searched carefully.

Soon.

Inside a certain brocade box, the plain hand that slides between letters of different kinds suddenly stops.

His fingertips rested on a simple white envelope.

The letter was unremarkable, not at all.

However, the handwriting on it... Although she had only seen it not long ago, it had already been engraved in her mind.

Concubine Zhao Ling took a deep breath, gently twisted up the envelope, uncovered the sealing wax, and pulled out the folded letter paper inside.

This is his second love letter.

It's a love letter, and this time, you said it yourself.

Don't play tricks.

Concubine Zhao Ling slowly unfolded the letter paper, her crescent head drooped, her eyes met, and she murmured: "Shangxie?"

She meditated lightly:

"Shangxie, I want to know you, and my longevity will never end... The mountains have no tombs, the rivers are exhausted, the winter thunders are shaking, the summer is raining and snowing, the heaven and the earth are united, so I dare... to die with you!"

Chapter 169 Love Letter

In a spring boudoir.

There was a Yiren standing still and reading the letter.

On the desk in front of her, there were seven brocade boxes full of love letters. Some of the envelopes were brightly colored, and some were radiant. At first glance, they looked like decent fairy paper.

But these were all put aside casually, and were inadvertently ignored by the woman.

In her eyes, she only had two love letters.

Now, one is in front of me.

"I dare to say goodbye to you... I dare to say goodbye to you... I dare to..."

A pair of long autumn eyes seemed to contain a pool of spring water, and the eyes were shining, reflecting the rows of regular script on the letter paper.

Zhao Rong's handwriting is majestic and upright, with a solemn momentum.

Just like this line of poetry, resolute, solemn, like an unswerving oath, he will not change his life forever, until the sea is dry and the rocks are rotten, and the sky is old, he solemnly swears.

Brother Ronger, do you want to... make an alliance with Qingjun Mountain...

Concubine Zhao Ling's long eyelashes trembled slightly, and her eyes were bright and piercing, staring blankly at this ordinary but extraordinary letter.

Ordinary because the letter paper is just ordinary paper, more refined, but not ordinary because... Chery appears on the letter paper, and the dignified regular script shines brightly, which is extraordinary.

"Shangxie... Shangxie..."

Her pink lips trembled, opened and closed slightly, and murmured silently.

At this moment.

Visions abound on the letterhead.

The breeze filled Concubine Zhao Ling's sleeves, her two plain hands holding the letterhead, her sleeves were stretched by the wind, revealing two white lotus arms, making her look more slender and slender.

And the breeze blowing from nowhere, passing by her head, also blowing her loose white clothes tightly to fit her figure.

Yi Ren has a delicate and graceful body, with well-drained figures.

It's just that the momentary aura that would have made him unable to look away if Zhao Rong was present would be gone in the next second.

Concubine Zhao Ling came back to her senses instantly after feeling the spiritual energy rushing towards her, turned over her bare hands, folded up the letter, breathed a sigh of relief, then looked down at the love letter on her palm.

She smiled lightly, her brows and eyes were full of joy, and she couldn't put it down.

The love poem that Brother Rong Er gave her is a poem about the state of selflessness in Luohuapin.

It can help the bottleneck monks in the Fuyao Realm to comprehend the broken mirror, and it is also effective for the monks in the Haoran Realm and beyond. It can instantly replenish aura and improve some cultivation bases.

And the poems in the realm of selflessness can be used repeatedly, and after being enlightened once, they can slowly absorb the spiritual energy to recover.

Concubine Zhao Ling just because she was too absorbed, inevitably interacted with the song "Shangxie", causing its aura to flow into her body.

Concubine Zhao Ling only needs a little guidance to absorb it. Although she is already a monk in the Grand Virtue Realm and is at the bottleneck of the Grand Virtue Realm, this aura cultivation can also loosen the mountain-like bottleneck.

however.

She doesn't want to.

Not at all.

Although Concubine Zhao Ling was very surprised that Brother Rong'er was able to write a high-quality poem, she already knew that he had written a birthday poem for Qian'er before, and it was also a high-quality poem. It was also a Luohua grade, but it was not as good as hers this time , This time she was given the realm of selflessness.

Concubine Zhao Ling knows that for Confucian scholars, except for the kind of reading seeds that are born with poetic talents, it is extremely difficult for most Confucian scholars to be able to write high-quality poems. important.

Therefore, in her mind, Brother Rong'er must have thought hard and pondered deeply because of her and Qian'er's sake, and wrote the poem.

Well, Brother Rong used to think about the neat rhythm of a poem for two or three days when he was a child. He also thought about it when eating, and when playing with her. Uncle Xiaobai said that he has a elm head, but I think he is really serious He worked very hard, brother Rong Er is such a man, how can others know how good he is...

In the process of searching for her all the way north, he didn't know how many love poems he wrote for her before he got this one that shocked her heart.

Love is so important.

Concubine Zhao Ling is not willing to absorb the slightest bit of its aura.

She couldn't bear it at all, this shining majestic regular script is so beautiful, if it absorbs the spiritual energy, it will lose its brilliance.

Even if the poems in the realm of selflessness can slowly recover, who knows how long it will take, Concubine Zhao Ling is unwilling to wait for a moment.

Whatever it was when Brother Rong wrote it, then keep it as it is.

Can't move...

The woman thought stubbornly.

And if Zhao Rong was by her side at this time, and knew what was going on in this fool's mind, he would definitely roll up the book and tap her small forehead, and if he was reluctant to knock on this stupid lady, he would reach out and pinch her nose , shaking her hands from side to side, looking at her swaying little face, and turning her eyes up to look up at him, she laughed and scolded the little fool.

a moment.

The corners of Concubine Zhao Ling's eyes rolled, and she was a little smug.

Although the girl Qian'er kept saying that the birthday poem was written by Brother Rong'er, after all, it was not Qian'er's birthday that day, but her birthday.

But the birthday words were consciously written by Brother Rong'er to Qian'er.

After that, Qian'er also found an excuse, saying that she would help her keep the poems, so she happily took away the original manuscript of the birthday poems. Later, she occasionally came to see it a few times. Fa's reminder, it seems that she is afraid that she will be ignorant, and will not return it.

But now, the love poem in his hand is even better than the birthday poem, it is the state of falling flowers and selflessness.

Concubine Zhao Ling has a cold and calm personality, and usually she doesn't argue about whether the poems are good or not, what kind of situation it is, but at certain times and aspects, she will be very concerned about it, such as now.

Because what she cares about is the mind behind it.

Qian'er...you have to...be behind...don't run in front of Miss...

The woman whose boudoir name is Qingjun sits obliquely in front of the desk, her thoughts are full of thoughts, tactful and affectionate.

A wooden hairpin was inserted between the cloud temples, and three thousand love threads were pulled up, and the hair was coiled for the king, revealing a beautiful oval face with a curved shape, and a snow-white neck like a white swan, with full eyebrows and eyes, refreshing.

At this moment, she was tilting her head, her chin resting on one hand, and she was looking at the two love letters on the table with clear eyes.

Concubine Zhao Ling quietly stretched out her hand, couldn't help but opened the song "Shangxie", squinted her eyes for a few times, then closed it gently, afraid that if she read it again, she would feel a sense in her heart and let it lose her spiritual energy.

Soon.

The plain hand stuck out again, like a little fox stealing a chicken, its fingertips got into the seam of the paper, and carefully turned up a corner, thus revealing Zhao Rong's regular script again.

She bit her lip and stared at it for a while, then nodded slightly, and closed it again.