Your Majesty, You Can't

Since some memorials that were originally reviewed by He Lanzhi were now left to the young emperor alone, Zhao Yin's workload was much greater than before.

In order to gradually adapt to such a workload, Zhao Yin devoted almost all of his energy to it, and was even willing to sacrifice his sleep time to postpone an hour to carefully review the less important memorials.

He is willing to be filled with work all the time.

Although he was busier than before, Zhao Yin felt that he was enriched a lot, so he didn't have the rest of his mind to think about other things.

On the day after dismissing the officials of the Ministry of Rites, Zhao Yin still buried his head in front of the memorial, reviewing the papers until midnight, completely forgetting the time.

He had already asked all the maids and eunuchs to withdraw from the imperial study, so as not to disturb the busy work of the king of a country.

No one reminded the Majesty that it was time to rest.

The document that He Lanzhi was supposed to read caused Zhao Yin's temples to swell, so he couldn't help but want to complain that this kind of boring official document was a waste of his time, and only He Lanzhi could read it.

Zhao Yin rubbed his aching head, raised his eyelids slightly and complained: "Ah Zhi, this kind of thing..."

The words that came out came to an abrupt end, and the lingering sound has not dissipated, echoing lonely in the air.

Zhao Yin raised his head in a daze, looking at the empty imperial study.The position that originally belonged to He Lanzhi is still waiting for its master who will never return.

In the silent blue-black starry sky in the dead of night, the silver moon quietly rises and hangs in the night without knowing when, and the falling moonlight silently reflects on the young emperor, leaving behind a black shadow that is so thick that it cannot be melted away, and the single shadow falls on the ground alone superior.

Zhao Yin sat on the chair blankly, and slowly fetched the rice paper that had been left on the table for a long time with trembling hands.

It was the last portrait of He Lan that he hadn't finished drawing before he learned of the prime minister's death.

Since that day, he has never touched this portrait again.

The young emperor slowly unfolded the portrait, and was about to raise the brush dipped in ink to continue drawing, when a tear fell unexpectedly and fell on the white and yellow rice paper, smudged Helan eyebrows.

Zhao Yin hurriedly put down the pen and wiped away the tears on the drawing paper with his hands, but unexpectedly, his lacrimal glands seemed to be broken and he couldn't control it. Open ink speed.

His heart throbbed like never before, and the pain made it hard for him to breathe.

Zhao Yin closed his eyes and let the tears flow silently along the tear trail.

I regret that I didn't reconcile with him back then.Just because of something like that, I fell out with him.

I regret that I let him leave my side at the beginning, but now I can't wait for him to come back.

I really regret that I didn't tell him my heart well at the beginning, but now even if I want to say it ten thousand times, I can't find anyone to tell him.

I really like him, I like him who is as gentle as jade and touches my heart all the time.

But that person is no longer in this world.

Zhao Yin's tears fell unconsciously, and then gradually his whole jaw couldn't help shaking, and his handsome eyebrows were tightly frowned.His fingers unknowingly picked up the portrait stained with tears, and after suddenly realizing that he had crumpled the portrait of He Lanzhi, Zhao Yin tremblingly shook his fingertips to spread the rice paper .

He was afraid that his tears would wet the rice paper again, so he bit his lower lip to keep the tears from falling. The tears in his eyes blurred his vision. All the wrinkles.

This portrait cannot be flattened by any means...

Zhao Yin stared at He Lanzhi, whose original handsome face could no longer be seen in the painting, only the corners of his smiling lips were still raised, Zhao Yin couldn't help gasping for air anymore, and sobbed softly.

The young emperor moved the last portrait aside, then he clenched his right hand and beat the table weakly, curling up on the table and crying bitterly.

He never knew that a person's heart could hurt like this...

"Azhi...Azhi...I miss you." Zhao Yin buried his head in his arms and cried out, "I miss you...Azhi..."