Yan Beicheng held the waist of Mo Shanghua tightly and said: "don't the princess like to get along with her second brother very much? Do you want to meet your wish? By the way, and Liu Zheng, do you want to bring them to you? "
As soon as I think of Mo Shanghua's avoiding him these days, even if I see him occasionally, I don't pay attention to him. It's also cold words. But I've been alone with Yan Moli for such a long time, and I often say soft words to Liu Zheng. His heart is burning with bitterness and resentment.
But Yan Beicheng didn't know that his words were just like pointing to their noses and calling them sluts for any woman. In particular, such words came from his husband's mouth.
This words swam quickly in the heart of Mo Shanghua. Her delicate and cool cheek was covered with frost, and her voice was also cold. "Well, if the Lord likes it, you can bring all the men in the palace, and I can accept them one by one."
Although she was sometimes a little dull and didn't want to talk to others, she was covered with sharp thorns. Whoever provoked her, he decided not to swallow his anger. Even if he hurt himself 800, he would hurt the enemy 1000.
When Yan Beicheng heard the speech, his whole face was completely gloomy. It was as gloomy as the dark clouds when the wind and rain were about to come, and the fierce air in his eyes leaped forward.
"Flowers on the street!"
Yan Beicheng couldn't help but roar. He grabbed the slender and fragile neck of Mo Shanghua and said, "what do you want me to do?"
Because he was too emotional, he even abandoned his usual disguise. Now, he has no place to vent his anger.
But even so, he did not forget to restrain the action in his hands, did not dare to really force, just afraid to hurt the flowers on the street.
If he was an ordinary woman, he would have been pale and flustered. But the stranger didn't even move his brow. He said coldly, "this is what you are, cloak man."
The last two words, she is almost word by word, eyes in addition to full of frost, vaguely mixed with a bit stubborn.
Yan North City can't help but a Zheng, the Mou color is clear to extinguish, don't know exactly what is thinking. After all, it's one thing for Hua qianliu to talk to him, and another thing for him to hear.
After a long time, he lowered his head again and spat out a few words from his thin lip. "Now that you know, are you not afraid at all?"
Say, holding the hand of the flower neck on the road slightly tightens a moment.
"You can't kill me." Mo Shanghua's face was still the same. At the same time, he took out the dagger he was carrying with him, and one of them was on Yan Beicheng's neck.
The dagger was across his neck, bringing a cold touch. However, Yan Beicheng's face changed little by little, and his eyes disappeared again. He couldn't understand what he was thinking.
But the flower on the street seems to be cold and merciless at this time, but the bottom of her eyes is the same complex and difficult to distinguish, unable to see what she is thinking.
For a long time, Yan Beicheng's face suddenly relaxed, and his hand holding the neck of the flower on the street also relaxed. It seemed that he was helpless, and he began to speak in a low voice like self mockery: "after all, it's the king who has been amorous."
This time, the stranger was stunned. His brain was like an empty echo. He kept playing this passage in a circle. His heart, which had been thought to have erected a barrier, seemed to be broken, and there were bursts of pain.
Before he had time to respond, he saw that Yan Beicheng had already reached out to brush the dagger that was lying across his neck. Because he didn't pay much attention to it, the sharp blade made a light scratch on his neck.
Mo Shanghua catches a glimpse of the scratch on his neck. He jumps for a moment in his heart. Subconsciously, he sits up and wants to have a look. But his consciousness finally catches up and stops her action. He grasps the bed sheet under him between his fingers.
Yan Beicheng seemed to have no sense of the blood stains on his neck. He didn't even frown. He just raised his hand to lightly erase the blood stains and said, "the princess must have not been raised well. Later, I will let Doctor Liu come back to have a look. You can take good care of her these days. I have nothing to do and won't disturb your peace."
Then he turned and strode away.
Mo Shanghua stares at his back in a dazed way. It's clear that she's so tall and straight. Somehow, Mo Shanghua sees that she's a little lost, or maybe she's lost herself
The house was completely quiet. Moshanghua sat on the bed for a long time. She could only hear the patter of rain outside the window, but she felt that her ears were buzzing and her heart was in a mess. No matter what, she could not calm down.
Later, this night she was tossing and turning, until dawn, can not rest.
When Qin Ya came to wait on Mo Shanghua to do her make-up, she was shocked to see that her eyes were black. "Princess, why are you so heavy now? Was the thunderstorm last night so noisy that you didn't sleep well?"
After Qin Ya said so, Mo Shanghua just looked up at himself in the bronze mirror.She is proficient in medical theory, so her body has always been well conditioned. Her face is ruddy and clear all the year round. Except when she was ill, when did she become so haggard?
She looks ten times worse than when she is working on medicinal materials.
Seeing that she didn't speak, and seemed to have gone away, Qin Ya could not help but called softly: "princess?"
The flowers on the street suddenly came back and said in a soft voice: "yesterday's rain was a little big."
Qin Ya nodded approvingly. She combed the long silky black hair of the flowers on the street and said, "it's not true. The maidservant just went to bed after a long time yesterday. In the past, the maidservant never went to bed because of this."
Although she was talking about her troubles, her heart was still more happy. The corners of her lips could not help raising. But after laughing for a moment, she was distressed again. "It's a pity that my brother has not recovered."
"I'll feel his pulse later. You don't have to worry too much," he said softly
Qin Ya reluctantly smiles, lowers her head and doesn't speak any more. She skillfully twists the long soft hair of Mo Shanghua into a bun and decorates it with a few Zhu Chai. Then she combs it in a simple but decent bun.
Mo Shanghua raised her hand and cut a few strands of broken hair in front of her forehead. As she was about to get up, she heard the door knocked, and then there was no sound.
It's not Qin Lin who can knock like this.
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