Kite falling into red dust

I saw Xiao Langhao's face turning blue and red for a while, glaring at him angrily, and said: "You know?" "Know what?" He asked innocently. "Sir, I should have known that there are no secrets between your master and servant!" Xiao Langhao stood up and walked around the room twice anxiously, "When did you know? Why didn't you tell me?"

Murong Mingyu picked up the teacup, took a sip slowly, and said leisurely: "That's his business, he doesn't want to talk about it himself, how can a widow who is the king of a country reveal other people's secrets casually?" "I I can see it clearly, in the heart of our king, personal bodyguards are more important than friends who grew up together!" Xiao Langhao complained aggrievedly loudly, while putting on a sable fur, "That's all, grass people Farewell, I don’t dare to enter the palace again without the king’s will!”

Murong Mingyu, who had long been used to him, was still sitting there, drinking tea leisurely, not intending to stop him at all, "Do you have to be so nervous? If you don't like it, just refuse, and No one is forcing you to accept him."

"Reject? It's easy for you to say, but it's Mo Yuan! What if he becomes angry and just gives me something?"

"What?" Murong Mingyu frowned, and asked puzzledly, "Ah, are you afraid that he will force you? Don't worry, Mo Yuan is not that kind of person!" "What! I didn't mean that That!" Xiao Langhao jumped up anxiously, his whole face turned the color of a monkey's butt, "I was afraid that he would beat me up, or even kill me. He is a fourth-rank imperial guard with a sword , with the support of the king, I, Xiao Langhao, am a commoner, and my death will be in vain!"

Murong Mingyu shook his head helplessly, and said: "Your imagination is too rich." "Since he is coming back, you can rest assured that I don't have to come to accompany you anymore, let's go!" said Then, he opened the door, called the attendants waiting in the next room, and left.

Murong Mingyu couldn't help but picked up Mo Yuan's letter and read it again.This guy Mo Yuan usually doesn't talk much, and he saves pen and ink when writing letters. The letter doesn't explain where he went in the past three days, nor what he did. Apart from signing, there are only six words: Tomorrow night Return to Beijing, don't read it.

I remember that he also left a letter three days ago that said: "I have something to do, I will leave Beijing for a few days, don't read it.", and left inexplicably.On weekdays, the person who would follow him even when he went to a brothel, suddenly offered to leave him without saying where he was going.What else did you say "don't read it", how can you not make people miss you if you do such an abnormal thing?

Sighing, he turned around slowly and took down a box from the bookshelf, and took out a scroll of paintings from the box.

Unfolding, the young man in red in the painting still has the same demeanor, but it is a pity that no matter how superb the painting skills are, he cannot be as full of life as a real person.And since seeing Luo Hongyuan again, he is no longer satisfied with just a painting to soothe the pain of lovesickness.Yes, today, he can finally admit that since the first day of separation, he has never stopped thinking about him.

But what if you admit it?He was trapped in the hands of the Infernal City Lord, unable to get out.All the while, everyone warned themselves not to go near it.Before meeting Mo Yuan, he had never heard of the name of this organization; now, he suddenly and urgently wanted to understand it, how strong it was, and where its weaknesses were.

He dipped his pen into the ink, wrote the word "Wujian" on the paper, and drew a cross on it, "As the monarch of the Yan Kingdom, it should not be difficult to wipe out a Jianghu sect."

There is also a hundred miles of spring breeze.After returning to the palace, the scene when that stranger was with Luo Hongyuan often flashed in his mind, stabbing his nerves over and over again.

It took him a while to figure out that the thing that makes him irritable, angry, and impulsive is called "jealousy."

When he realized that he had such feelings, he knew that he could no longer deny it.