In the early death incident that year, obviously, the little prince did not die as the perpetrator expected. Among them, there must be a problem in which link.
If you want to completely solve the mystery, it is not so easy.
Not to mention that this happened fourteen years ago, the place where the incident happened is still in Tiancheng Kingdom. She is here, and her clues are limited. It is very difficult to find the woman Wen who delivered Queen Xiaomin's birth.
Probably, for today's plan, we still have to find clues from Cheng Ye.
When Fengqian returned to the dormitory, he was on foot, not on a sedan chair.
The night wind was slightly cold, making the girl's head a little awake.
After stepping into his own bedroom, Jiu Jin began to come up.
Because the original owner had never touched alcohol, she only drank two sips of fruit wine, but she was still a little overwhelmed.
The girl's steps were a bit vain.
His complexion was as calm as ever, except that his fair-skinned face was stained with a touch of crimson.
Feng Qian groped back to his room, and after opening the door, he closed the door.
The girl's vision was a little blurry, and when she staggered to the side of the bed, she was already drunk and unconscious.
She stared blankly at the little monk on the bed.
After a long while, he tilted his head slightly.
"Cried?"
Feng Qian threw herself on the bed, supporting her body with her arms, slowly raising her other hand, and touching the tears in the corner of the little monk's eyes with her fingertips.
When touched, there was a chill on the fingertips.
Feng Qian was stunned.
She slowly leaned over, and with a layer of quilt, crouched on top of the little monk.
The girl's blue silk as long as a waterfall hangs down and spreads on the bed.
Staring blankly at the tears in the corner of the little monk's eyes.
She stretched out her fingertips again and tried to wipe them away, but it seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't wipe away the other's tears.
Feng Qian frowned and moved, his palms resting on both sides of the little monk.
The blue silk also slid down with the girl's movements, covering Xiao Shard's face.
The girl seemed to be in a daze, paused, and slowly leaned over.
With such an action, it was impossible for Wang Chen not to be awakened.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the girl's face that was very close.
Wangchen was stunned, and suddenly, as if he was frozen, he didn't dare to move anymore.
There was a tingling feeling on his face.
His long eyelashes fluttered and drooped slightly, covering the beautiful broken light at the bottom of his eyes.
The girl's movements gradually stopped, she raised her head slightly and looked down at Wang Chen.
Afterwards, the girl tilted her head and fell into a deep sleep.
There was no movement, and Wang Chen didn't dare to move.
His face seemed to be on fire.
There seems to be something wrong with the body.
The nerves of the whole person were tense to the extreme, the back was slightly arched, and the fingertips clenched the sheets under him.
There was a thin mist of water in the clear eyes, and there were tiny shimmering ripples in it.
Wang Chen pursed his lips and said nothing.
It wasn't until the girl's even breathing came from his ears that Wang Chen relaxed a little, his tight arched back slowly relaxed, and his fingers also pushed away the sheets under him.
He moved slightly, and the girl lying on top of him frowned, rubbed it, and fell asleep again.
Wang Chen didn't dare to move again.
He stared blankly at the bed net above his head.
Suddenly I understood why Uncle Huikong said that his fate was not over.
He has never stepped into the red dust, and it is impossible to talk about the red dust.