Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
I took off the flat bamboo pattern and Hetian jade thumb ring, and lifted Guangling King's hand gently in the air, and the thumb ring fell onto Guangling King's finger like a copper coin into a wishing pool, delicate, oversized, and easily slipped off with a slight bend of the hand.
Guangling King pulled her hand back and put the thumb ring back on my hand, saying, "Imperial items should not be casually given to others."
I held her hand tightly and retorted, "But you are not just anyone." She didn't say anything, why is her tongue so dull in front of me? She couldn't say the words I wanted to hear for a long time, making me wait anxiously for an answer that seemed distant and indefinite.
12,
In the days of bitter regret, I will repeatedly recall the days at Yinyuan Pavilion, thinking of the fragrant orchids blooming like snow, thinking of the constant incense at Sanqing Temple, thinking of the graceful figures practicing martial arts in the mist, thinking of the kind and generous palm of the master resting on the young man's head, thinking of Shijun smiling as she holds two bowls of clear water, thinking... of the figure of Guangling King that can be found every time I turn my head, thinking of her smiling face, taking my hand, and embracing me tenderly.
13. The West Palace's crabapple trees are in full bloom, inviting Guangling King to come and enjoy the flowers. I had intended to climb the tree to pick flowers, but was stopped by Guangling King's stern gaze. So I stepped on a chair brought by the palace servants and picked the best-looking branch, then pinned it in Guangling King's hair. Guangling King, take it out of the palace, let the flower represent me, and stay by your side.
14. Standing on the high palace roof, the wind was so strong that even the carefully arranged hair was disheveled. The little eunuch begged Guangling King to wait a little longer, but she turned away so heartlessly. Although the high ground seemed to be spinning, I still jumped without hesitation. I have never been afraid of death, I told myself. If I can't win Guangling King's heart, what does it matter if I die?
15,
The light drizzle pressed down the hair of the Son of Heaven. Xiao Huang held an umbrella behind him, not daring to step forward, feeling like crying but unable to shed tears.
Son of Heaven Looking at the crimson palace walls, I wonder, when I was a child, the palace walls seemed this tall. How come they still seem this tall even though I've grown up and gotten taller?
Rain falls on my face, making my eyelashes tremble. My elaborate robe drags on the ground, getting heavier and heavier. The muddy Han Palace almost swallows me up.
Then, the Guangling King appears at the intersection, holding an umbrella and shielding his face. Son of Heaven lifts his robe and walks over, embracing Guangling King and muttering to himself: Is this real? Or am I dreaming again...
There are moist water droplets flowing down the collar of Guangling King, into the neck. It's unclear whether they are tears of the Son of Heaven or tears from the sky.
15. Osmanthus Soup
When Son of Heaven was young, he liked to eat osmanthus soup, so he always picked a lot of osmanthus flowers when they bloomed, and saved them for later use after autumn.
Liu Bian and Guangling King were pulling long cloth under the tree, then the senior brothers used long sticks to knock down the small golden osmanthus flowers, which fell all over their heads. They picked some to give to Shijun and dried the rest for later use.
At that time, Liu Bian and Guangling King were mischievous teenagers. They secretly grabbed a handful of golden osmanthus flowers and walked behind their meditating master, and then let them fall onto the master's snow-white hair.
Later, Liu Bian recalled that the master must have noticed at the time, but allowed them to do so, just sighing lightly and sprinkling a little golden osmanthus on their faces.
Later, Shijun demolished the palace, which left him with some psychological shadow regarding osmanthus soup, but the memories remained colorful and splendid. On a whim, he ordered the royal kitchen to make a bowl of osmanthus soup, but none of the chefs' skills could replicate the taste from the Yinyuan Pavilion. Later, every autumn, Liu Bian would often dream of him and Guangling King scattering golden osmanthus flowers on Zuo Ci's bed, and then being punished to kneel in front of the Three Pure Ones to transcribe scriptures, before waking up startled.
Comment 0 Comment Count