The five golden large words of "Bright Palace Abao" were very eye-catching in the light of the candle fire. At night, Zhou Wudi was arrested after bending over, and his mouth and limbs were caught dead with his hands. He was brought into the dry and clear palace.
“Ma'am, Toshio's pet came in.” To salute the master and master, it was late to refresh the struggling Po in his hands.
“Leave it to Changxi. You come here, Father has something to tell you.” Shen Huilu sipped tea and opened his mouth carelessly. After a long time in power, she would never breathe a tiny animal again. In her eyes, Po's life was worse than that of grass mustard.
“Yes.” Late Qing handed Po over to Changxi and knelt down to Mrs. Shen's feet to listen.
Chang Xi picked up the fiercely struggling Po, took him far away to the empty ground in front of the dry and clear palace, slammed him hard underground, then stepped on his chest with his feet and applied a little force. Changxi could have killed Po with one foot, but the last time he was beaten in the face by Toshio, he had already accumulated a stomach resentment, and urgently needed to let it out. Seeing Po struggle as he growled, that resentment, but there was nothing he could do, greatly satisfied his inner brutality, and his foot was slower.
There was a clicking stifle in the chest, which was the sound of a broken rib, and the intense pain seemed to come from the soul, constantly. Zhou Wudi stared at Chang Xi with his bloody red eyes. He remembered Meng Sangyu's name over and over again. Three words into the bone marrow at this moment gave him infinite power and made him not want to die easily. He's dead. What about Mulberry Elm?
“Little bastards are tough!” Always smiling and suddenly pushing hard under his feet.
The broken ribs pierced the lungs, pierced the heart, a trace of blood gushed out of the corner of the mouth, Zhou Wudi growled one after the other, the pitch-black eyes gradually covered with a layer of blood mist. In trance, a slim sanskrit came from the sky, a soft force pulled his soul out of Po's body and into the void. He closed his eyes unwillingly, and his bloody mouth and nose exhaled a final trace.
“Dead? That's boring!” The little animal at his feet stopped moving and Chang Xi stepped on his feet again, which led him to call a little eunuch and throw Po's body into the garden next to the dry palace as a flower fat.
A quiet mansion in Beijing.
In a room lit with countless chandeliers and intense sandalwood, an old monk with white eyebrows and a solemn look slowly stopped Sanskrit and said to the man guarding the door, all angry, "The giver has returned to his place of soul and wakes up immediately. ”
“Really?” The man frowned and questioned. There was nothing the doctor could do about it. The old monk came and looked at it. He said, "It's his own destiny, he'll be back soon" and started reading the scriptures. This situation is too easy. How can he believe it? But thinking of that bizarre note, he could only treat the dead horse as a living horse doctor and let the old monk torment him.
A moment of dialogue between the two men, the handsome man surrounded by a long lamp moaned and slowly opened his eyes. When he saw the snowy ceiling above his head, he stunned and immediately realized that it was not a palace. The dome of the palace is painted with rich murals, so simple.
He turned his head and looked around, facing the previous stunned face. That face line is cold and full of rage, not Junwei, who is it?
“Junwei?” Zhou Wudi opened his mouth in surprise and immediately heard his dull voice, unbelievably raising his hands to look. Is this manpower? I can't believe I'm back.
“The benefactor is well enough to take a few days of soup medicine to nourish his body. The poor monk said goodbye.” The old monk read a Buddha, slowly walked toward the door of the room and stopped again. His hands closed ten times, cautiously reminding him, "In the meantime, the poor monk will keep his mouth shut, and the owner will not forget the original promise. It is necessary to reshape the gold body for the Buddha statue of the temple. ”
“Thank you, Master! The reshaping of the gold will be done within a month.” Junwei bowed down and promised. The old monk reshaped his gold body one by one. He thought the man had come here purely to cheat money, but he didn't expect to have any real talent. Amitabha Buddha, thank God he saw the old monk more immortal and left people behind.
The old monk read the Buddha again and left with satisfaction.
Zhou Wudi didn't think about these two things. He stared at Junwei and asked, "Have you sent someone to protect Mulberry Elm? ”
“Mulberry Elm?” Junwei was stunned, hesitating, “Toshio? ”
“Didn't you see the note I left you?” Zhou Wudi asked in silence.
“Is that really the Emperor's? Not a dog sharpener? What's with the twisted handwriting and the dog paw print?” Junwei pulled the note out of his arms and spread it out, pointing to a little club print on it.
Zhou Wudi rubbed his eyebrows with frustration. His tone was quite helpless. “Send someone into the palace to protect Mulberry Elm first. I will explain this note to you slowly.” I didn't want to tell Junwei about the attachment. He loved to shave the bottom of the question. He couldn't give him a satisfactory answer. He could go around the subject. Mulberry Elm's safety could not be delayed for a moment.
“The Emperor was assured that by the moment he received this note, his men had sent someone to the Princess De Fei. Toshio is said to have a pet name for Po...” Junwei stopped talking and looked at the dog paw mark on the note. He was only daring to speculate, and still hesitated to bring the dog, but the old monk said that everything would go according to nature. The donor woke up soon and told him not to interfere at will, stirring up the Lord's destiny.
It seems that the Emperor has encountered a strange encounter in recent times! He's most interested in surprises! A novel full of studios is not for nothing!