The wind does not blow in from the window frame, nor does it come from the world, but from people's hearts, from a thick calluse that has long frozen.
This heavy ice cube has been condensed for many years, roasted in the sun, bathed in the spring, and destroyed in the storm... However, that ice cube has never melted
one day.
Because there are so many elements that condense temperature for it. They are never two people, love, marriage, pregnancy, children... These are not two people's affairs, but countless people make it together.
The concubines, princes, court affairs, princes, princes... these people stubbornly freeze the ice cube tightly, and make it bigger and thicker.
Breathing is so fragile, feelings are really far less than the tenacity of life, walking faster than time, a trace of warmth, silently, between fingers, lips, in the heart, in the blink of an eye... all the beautiful past
, silently.
It took Tuoba Hong's body to lean inside, and his footsteps were staggering. It was so difficult to even take a few steps to get to the bed.
However, no one helped him. The palace maids, eunuchs, guards... were not alone by his side. Only the woman around him had her eyes on him, but the focus was not there. She looked at him but could not see him.
Whether he is weak, painful, sick, or dying life, she doesn't care at all. She is like a wandering soul, she doesn't even have the strength to love herself, let alone love others.
But he kept staring at her, seeing that she was dressing strangely carefully this day: the thick queen's robe had not taken off, the faint powder on her face had not been wiped off, the phoenix hairpin on her head, and the ears were still there.
Pendant... She seemed to be wrapped in a pile of jewelry flowers, but even so many jewelry glory could not hide her brilliance. Her face was pale, and a little blush slowly came up, like a piece of nothing
A lotus flower blooming on the angry snowy ground.
Miaolian.
Miaolian.
It is no longer in the pond in July and August, and the world is full of blooming. Between the world, there is only this pale lotus, with a kind of haggardness and vitality that is incomprehensible, as if it was the last breakthrough