Suddenly, Xiao Zhongzhi laughed so hard that he almost burst into tears, "Your Majesty, do you just rely on his words? What did he say just now? Looks like - looks like me. Also, how am I dressed and dressed? Could it be that
My general's residence is the only one in the whole capital.
Are you having a funeral?" He laughed at himself, tugged on his mourning clothes, and continued sarcastically: "When you say that, I hate my father. Why didn't he die sooner rather than later? Why did he have to die when the Queen Mother is gone?
When will you die?"
In his eyes, it was really extremely ironic. But what was he mocking? Even he himself was not sure. But one thing was probably certain that he was not mocking the person in front of him, but the current situation, or his entire failure.
Life. The pride of the soldiers who once followed me disappeared with that night.
One night in Handan City changed the lives of many people, and the one who changed the most was not Murong Jing or Sima Luo, but Xiao Zhongzhi. That night, he could be said to have lost everything, and he would never be able to wake up from his life.
of a nightmare.
Murong Jing's face darkened and he said in a deep voice: "Xiao Zhongzhi, what do you want?"
"Haha...ha..." Xiao Zhongzhi was still laughing. There was no trace of joy in his eyes. Suddenly, he stopped laughing, looked at Murong Jing, raised his eyebrows and asked: "In what capacity are you talking to me now?
"[
Murong Jing looked directly into Xiao Zhongzhi's eyes and looked at each other.
Like two volcanoes, they seem ready to erupt at any time.
Murong Jing said: "Xiao Zhongzhi, if you hate me, come after me. Don't touch women -" He gritted his teeth with hatred. She was clearly right in front of him, but she was kidnapped under his nose. This kind of
The shame is indescribable. How will he see her again in the future?
Xiao Zhongzhi smiled mockingly and ignored it.
At this time, a guard came to report that no one was found in the general's mansion and nothing unusual was found.
Murong Jing glanced at the farmer just now and said coldly: "Take a closer look, is it him? If what you tell is the truth, you will be rewarded heavily. But if you dare to tell a lie -" he said
It is neither slow nor urgent, but there is a majestic and unquestionable sense of oppression hidden between the lines.
It seems that if the farmer dares to tell a lie, blood will be splashed on the spot at any time.
At this time, all eyes were fixed on the farmer.
When has an ordinary citizen ever seen such a battle?