What's more, for a woman, father and son are tragic, and the world is in chaos, and from then on, the century-old foundation of our ancestors will be destroyed?
Luo Jia opened his mouth wide, like a beast flooded by a flood, leaving only the last breath.
It's just a little bit strange, they don't know!
They don't know all of this.
At this time, he would rather believe that she and him were truly ignorant.
No, they must not know anything anymore, even if they pretend not to know.
“The Lord…”
The Taoist priest took out a pill and wanted to take it for Luo Jia.
However, Luo Jia's lips were closed, and under the moonlight, there was a dead blackness.
"God!"
He suddenly let out a low voice, and even the moonlight was injured - there was clearly a piece of white in front of him.
The majestic man Kong Wu used to be, his hair and beard were white at this time; he was even whiter than himself!
There is nothing more sorrow than death in the heart.
Even though this wise king went through so much trouble to escape the fate of poisoning, he died again - this time, he really died at the hands of his son.
After all, it is the fate of father and son fighting each other.
Death is even more tragic than the first time.
He couldn't speak, but just put his hand on Luo Jia's vest and used up all his energy.
It took a long time before Luo Jia slowly opened his eyes.
"Master of Taoism."
"Please give me instructions, Lord."
"Try to make Fangfei believe that I am really dead."
The psychic Taoist priest didn't start and couldn't bear to look at his miserable gaze.
What can be forced to do in everything in the world? Come and go, it is just a waste of time.
"The prince is treating her sincerely; she is not completely unintentional to the prince... As long as she gives up, she will live a happy life in the future."
The old Taoist nodded, not daring to say a word.
"I want to be alone."
The old Taoist retreated with tactfulness.
The mountain is so quiet.
In the second half of the night in Beiwudang, the cold wind was cold, and the dying autumn insects were singing a sad song with the rolling pine waves. They were sleeping all over the world, but they had just started shouting.