Every world is crumbling [Quick Transmigration]

Tears streamed down his face, holding the brocade that was more important than his life in his heart, trembling and weeping completely.

Master Guoshi, in Lu Jie's heart, you will always be the cleanest and purest moon in the world.

A little palace lady who happened to pass by seemed to hear something coming from behind the rockery, and curiously stretched her head to look inside, but only saw an exquisite food box.

strangeness?Why is there a food box here?The little maid held the food box and looked around for a long time without seeing anyone, so she had to take the food box away.

In the rippling lake, snowflakes are falling.

118. Your Majesty, Please Respect Yourself 21 (End)

It is another annual sacrificial day, when Wei Lin travels across the country, during the pilgrimage of thousands of people, the new emperor respectfully kowtows in the imperial mausoleum, and a tablet engraved with the names and taboos of Mo Jiujun is placed in it, and the strange thing is that , In the place where the emperors of all dynasties belonged to the later positions, another name that should not exist here is engraved.

mirror dust.

Mo Jiujun reigned for a total of 13 years, and he was only in his thirties when he passed away. He was such a monarch, who was praised and criticized in folk rumors. There are those who respect others. There is a clear distinction between public and private.There are those who hate others, and force the death of virtuous ministers for the emperor, and even give them posthumous titles, destroying the reputation of the first national teacher.

But whether it's like or hate, there is one thing that the folks are very similar to, infatuation.

teahouse

"...During the heavy snowfall back then, the national teacher dressed in white and defeated the Nine Heavens Immortal, vomited black blood and fell on the couch. The first emperor did not sleep for half a month, undressed and waited beside him. At this moment..."

"Guo Shiyan, I want to see peach blossoms bloom in early March."

In today's sacrificial ceremony, the teahouse was full of guests, and the business was extremely hot, because every year at this time, there were storytellers who would tell about the late emperor's infatuation and deeds, and today is the last one.

The storyteller is an old man in a long gown. I saw him standing in front of a simple case, and there were countless people listening to the book sitting around him. Those who came late and didn't grab a seat, so they randomly found a place and stroked their sleeves twice. Ask for a cup of tea and sit on the floor.

"At that time, it was snowing heavily in the winter, so how come the peach blossoms were flying in the sky in March, but this is what people like to mention, so the first emperor wore thin clothes on a snowy winter night, regardless of everyone's obstruction, Kneel down and worship the gods in the heavy snow outside the temple, performing three worships and nine kowtows."

"The severe cold of winter is like a knife cut on the body, but the late emperor who was covered by frost and snow did not move at all. Just when everyone was in a hurry to call the imperial doctor..."

Snapped--

The storyteller clapped the gavel in his hand and said, "A miracle has happened!"

The listeners in the next song subconsciously stopped drinking water, held their breath nervously, and fixed their eyes on the old storyteller without blinking.

"The peach blossoms in the imperial garden are blooming."

hiss--

Amidst the sound of gasping in unison, everyone's eyes were full of disbelief.

"Among the long snowfall, the peach blossoms are glowing with gorgeous pink, which is indescribably pleasing to the eye against the silver dress in the garden..."

While Xiao Huzi was listening with great interest, he suddenly heard the familiar muttering from his grandfather.

"Bullshit."

Little Huzi turned his head in confusion, and saw his grandfather, whose hair was all white, staring at the storyteller, blowing his beard and saying, "Nonsense."

Suppressing his own voice, the little tiger said, "Grandpa, why do you say that?"

"The national teacher died after being poisoned back then. Where did all these gods and gods talk about it come from? Peach blossoms are still blooming in the middle of winter. The national teacher doesn't like peach blossoms at all. Let's see what that is."

"If you don't like peach blossoms, what do you like?"

"Clivia."

A gentleman should be like orchid, light like water.

The words from that year seemed to echo in my ears again, making Wurun's eyes full of reminiscences. Hearing what the storyteller said or something outrageous, he shook his head and stood up. Seeing his grandfather leaving, he didn't listen, and immediately followed his footsteps out of the teahouse.

"Grandpa, grandpa, why don't you listen?"

"What's the point of listening to nonsense?"

The little tiger pursed his lips, and muttered in a low voice: "I think it's pretty good." After speaking, he followed the pace of others and said, "Grandpa, grandma said that you used to be a servant in the palace, then you met Mr. The emperor? Have you seen the national teacher again? Did the former emperor really have such a patriotic teacher?"

The little grandson's words brought back Wurun's frozen memories. At this moment, he seemed to have returned to the winter day when the snow was flying, and to the night that made the whole palace tremble.

The man who was so arrogant and arrogant in front of others, hugged his master who was dyed dark red and cried like the whole world collapsed. He was so sad that he vomited blood on the spot, and his hair turned white in just one night.

In front of the master at that moment, he was no longer the emperor in charge of the world, no longer the Mo Jiujun who never changed his face, but a man who had lost the love of his life and lost his treasure.