[Ancient Style] The notorious minister turned out to be beautiful, strong and miserable

It was Rong Ying who came to interrogate Zhao Yan on the sixth day.

Third Young Master Rong brought not criminals to Dali Temple, but two elegant female envoys, who bowed and stood by his side, holding a white jade plate in their hands.

Exquisite wine bottles are placed on the jade plate.

The young man was dressed in brocade clothes, with a graceful demeanor, looked at Zhao Yan who was sitting on the straw mat and looked normal one by one, "Master Zhao, are you all right?"

Zhao Yan raised her eyelids, only took one look, then lowered her eyes again.

When Zhao Yan saw the clothes on his body, she knew that Rong Ying was now working in Dali Temple, and Dali Temple seemed to be the home of the Rong family.

Rong Ying didn't even look at the dossier, "Feng Shui turns, I used to be a prisoner of the lord, but now the lord has become my palm."

Third Young Master Rong didn't look like he was here for an interrogation, but he looked like he was visiting a flower house, and the envoys he brought with him were all beautiful and beautiful. He looked around, and when he saw the spider web being knotted in the corner, he felt a little disgusted. Said, "Such an environment, adults can also bear it?"

The indifference around Zhao Yan never melted away.

Rong Ying then smiled, "My lord refuses to tell the truth, does he?"

"Brother is too upright, I don't know what Mr. Zhao is most afraid of." Rong Ying stared at Zhao Yan, her eyes moved down, and landed on her slender waist.

"Master Zhao is most afraid of being crushed on the ground like a woman one by one."

The female envoys on both sides lowered their eyelashes, not daring to listen any more.

Zhao Yan's beautiful eyes finally looked over, the dim candlelight against a face carved from jade, her eyes were full of cruelty, "Rong Ying!"

Rong Ying gathered her sleeves together, walked in front of Zhao Yan, stretched out her long and slender fingers to pick up the hibiscus face, and the hatred hidden in those beautiful eyes could be seen at a glance.

If it wasn't for the heavy iron chain in his hand, he probably wanted to break his neck.

It's a pity that these weak hands can't even lift them up. The iron chains are hidden behind the loose robe, and only the vague shape can be seen.

Rong Ying was condescending, pinching Zhao Yan's neck and forcing him to raise his head.The touch feels warm and soft, like a tribute brocade.

The female envoy came over holding the jade plate, Rong Ying took the wine bottle on the jade plate, and poured the wine into Zhao Yan's mouth, the person in the palm shook his head and struggled, the wine dripped and soaked his clothes, The white jade-like neck slipped a little, and even the loose long hair was stained with the aroma of fine wine.

Perhaps such a scene was too charming, the maid's eyelashes trembled slightly, and half of her cheeks were pink.

Just this kind of struggle exhausted all the strength in Zhao Yan's body. He lowered his head and panted softly, his snow-white neck turned a shocking red from being pinched.

He coughed a few times, but the wine had already flowed into his limbs and veins.

The red tides are overlapping like the petals of the first spring blooming in the fine and white complexion.

Rong Ying's voice was somewhat low and strangely gentle.

"My lord, there was an oiran in Zuihonglou who offended Marquis Ping'an, and Marquis Ping'an used a cup of Qinghuan wine to burn that oiran to death. I heard it was very miserable."

Qinghuan is an inferior aphrodisiac, usually used in brothels or even Nanfeng pavilions.

And in this glass of wine, he not only put Qing Huan in it, but also melted in a big tonic elixir.

Zhao Yan's body is too weak, and Qing Huan is afraid that she won't be able to bear it, it would be meaningless if she fainted.

The third son of Rong has been in the entertainment all year round, and he has come up with endless tricks. Now he is standing in front of Zhao Yan wearing a human leather dress, and he still looks very luxurious.

Zhao Yan's fingers curled up in her sleeves almost pricked her palms with blood.

"My lord, it's good for everyone to sign and pledge as soon as possible. If you don't recruit, I have countless tricks to deal with men here. The sun is still long today, let's try them all."

Zhao Yan's whole body softened, and the fine sweat on her forehead soaked out, wet her eyebrows and long hair.

Only those eyes were still stubborn, and the two rows of teeth bit her lips tightly, and her skin gradually burned.

The black hair on the temples was intertwined with the gorgeous Shu color, showing a bit of bewitching beauty.

His body was on fire, and his eyes were on fire.

But there was no sound.

The iron chain fell to the ground, and the person finally limp on the cold blue brick.

Rong Ying watched quietly, as if even she was burned into a ball of fire.

He slowly walked towards Zhao Yan, raised his chin with his hand, and saw those beautiful but somewhat distracted eyes.

Years of cold ice has turned into a pool of spring water.

Rong Ying approached him, whispering in his ear, "If I were the first emperor, I would lock you into the palace and raise you in a cage made of gold wire."

His hands moved like snakes between Zhao Yan's skirts, tearing his outer shirt until his blushing skin was exposed, shivering from the slight cold wind.

"Look, my lord, do you look like a slut hanging out with men in the wild?"

Disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, low moans that almost blurted out, burnt almost exhausted mind.

The cold exiled immortal fell into the evil of the world, struggling in vain to wake up.

Third Young Master Rong's eyes fell on the faint white wisps between his temples, and he stretched out his hand to pick up a wisp, the faint fragrance of fragrance exuded from his hair.

What made him gray hair?