Yu Jun

The door of the monastery is open.

When Fu Yan raised his eyes, he saw Mo Lingfeng sitting in the Grand Master's chair in front of the Buddha statue, his hands on the armrests of the chair, his eyes like lightning directed at Fu Yan.

Although he is a prisoner, he is not embarrassed.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw these phoenix eyes. When I stepped in, the sky was two points darker, and the monastery was also darkened. There was a large shadow on the Buddha statue, as if a ghost from hell stretched out its claws and covered the Buddha's eyes.

Mo Lingfeng's face was exactly the same as that of the Buddha statue, gloomy and forbidding, staring at him as if he wanted to eat his flesh and blood.

Fu Yan's hair stood on end in shock. He clenched the tabloid hard with the hand behind his back, paused in his steps, and then sneezed.

He turned around and told the jailer: "Raise a brazier and come in."

It's hard to see the light in the monastery, and it's even colder than outside.

Walking inside again, he found Nomad Qing lying on the Xumizuo, sleeping with his back stretched out. When he saw someone coming in, he got up and walked to Mo Lingfeng. After standing still, his eyelids were drooped, listless, and his stomach was rumbling. A long cry.

"General," Nomad Qing touched his belly and looked at Fu Yan, "Yushitai prison does not care about food and water. Why don't you ask for an order and go to Dali Temple or the Ministry of Punishment."

Fu Yan said "Ouch", rolled up the tabloid in his hand into a roll, hit a supervisor on the head hard, and cursed: "I'm not here, why did you forget to drink water? Why don't you hurry up and do it!"

The supervisor received a trivial blow, confessed repeatedly, and ran out to prepare tea and rice. Another supervisor walked to the oil lamp, took out the flame, blew out the sparks, and lit it in front of the wick.

A jailer came in with two steaming tea cups and placed them on the small table beside Mo Lingfeng. Nomad Qing stretched out his hand to hold the tea cup. He shook it when it was too hot. He retracted his hand and pinched his earlobe. After a while, he endured the heat and picked it up. "Huhu" blew twice, then put his mouth to the edge of the bowl, took a sip, and let out a loud sigh.

He and Mo Lingfeng had nothing to do since they were imprisoned yesterday.

Mo Lingfeng was not in a hurry.

Fu Yan pretended to cut off her food and water, forcing her to look embarrassed, but she didn't do what he wanted. She stretched out her fingers and lightly played with the white air on the top of the tea cup.

"The Dali Temple and the Ministry of Punishment are not available at this time." Fu Yan sat on the Xumi Seat. The stone seat was cold. As soon as his butt touched it, he lifted it up and sat back in the Grand Master's chair. "Your Majesty ordered the three divisions to interrogate Xuexian Wu."

He handed the tabloid to the supervisor: "Show it to General Mo."

The inspector took it in his hand and walked over to hand it to Mo Lingfeng. Nomad Qing reached out to grab it first, opened it and took a quick look. There was nothing unusual before giving it to Mo Lingfeng.

Mo Lingfeng took a look and immediately saw the strong smell of blood.

Death remonstrance, imperial staff 36.

She read every word from beginning to end. The brazier was quietly brought in and placed in front of her to warm her legs. She threw the tabloid into the fire, picked up the tea cup, and drank half of it slowly.

"It seems that Fu Zhongcheng not only wants to inquire about my collaborating with the enemy, but also wants to instruct Xuexian Wu to attack and annihilate His Majesty to disrupt the imperial court."

Fu Yan smiled. After smiling, he saw the supervisor coming in with a food box and waved his hand: "General Mo will eat first. I want to ask something. There is no rush."

He retreated into the chair, folded his hands on his abdomen, and watched Mo Lingfeng's every move.

The food was simple, consisting of eight hastily heated steamed cakes and two plates of pickles. Mo Lingfeng glanced at it and said, "Fu Zhongcheng, do you have any sugar?"

Fu Yan turned to look at the supervisor: "Bring the sugar." The supervisor blew out like a gust of wind and then came back. Panting, he brought a small bowl of sugar.

During this period, Nomad Qing devoured one steamed cake in two mouths, and took advantage of every opportunity to eat a chopstick of pickles. He finished five steamed cakes and a plate of half pickles, and drank all the tea in one gulp.

Putting the sugar on the table, he picked it up a little and threw it into his mouth, then licked his fingers.

Fu Yan watched the little Taotie eating, and then looked at Mo Lingfeng. Mo Lingfeng ate without moving, dipping steamed cakes in sugar, finishing one, drinking two sips of tea, and then eating another.

Fu Yan looked at it, but he couldn't see any panic or flaw in Mo Lingfeng. Instead, he saw the saliva, which was worthless. He quietly swallowed a big mouthful of saliva, and for a moment, he choked on the saliva and coughed violently.

He quickly covered his face and stood up, pretending to be calm and walked out, coughing as he walked. When he walked out of the prison cell, the cold wind outside made a "plop" sound, which made him salivate over the steamed cakes dipped in sugar.

Returning to the front hall for duty, he took a deep breath, suppressed his appetite, squinted his eyes, and thought that he had to start with Wu Jin.

Wu Jin has parents and brothers. He is not afraid of death. Isn't he afraid of implicating his family?
It's just that his family is far away in Kuanzhou. How can we scare him to the greatest extent?
While thinking, he walked out of the censor's stage, looked at the blue sky, and ordered his entourage: "Prepare the sedan and go to the palace."

The night gradually encroached on the light of the sky, and lanterns were hung up early on the Yushitai. When the lights could not dispel the dark night, Mo Lingfeng moved his hands and feet in the monastery and whispered: "Are the people from Wu Desi here?"

"No."

"Knife."

Nomad Qing pulled out a sharp knife from his boot, untied the white muslin wrapped around the blade, and handed the knife to Mo Lingfeng - he was just an inconspicuous role in this conspiracy. Hiding a knife was no big deal.

Mo Lingfeng took it in his hand and shook it gently. The blade immediately made a clear and lonely sound. Half of her face was reflected on the blade. With a slight movement, her face twisted, stretched, blurred, and turned into strange light and shadow.

She stuck the sharp knife at her waist in case of emergency.

The tabloid had turned to ashes in the brazier, but she remembered every word.

Reporting to Wu Jin, she single-handedly became invincible, breaking through the hypocrisy of the imperial court, and saving her from being humiliated in the censor's platform - at this time, she should have been tortured, but Wu Jin's memorial made the court situation worse. It was so unpredictable that Yushitai did not dare to act rashly.

He is not Zhao Shiheng or Qi Chang. He has a majestic spirit, character, integrity, and his own way.

She wanted to see this person, just like the time she walked through the blizzard.

The Nomad Qing opened the door of the monastery, and there were two jailers guarding outside. They were drowsy and yawning. When they heard the door, they quickly cheered up. They held the sword at their waist with their left hand and the handle of the knife with their right hand.

"The general wants to clean his hands," Nomad Qing came out and yawned, "Can you please close the door."

Mo Lingfeng was a woman and he was a man. This was not the first time they had evaded the warder. The jailer didn't think much about it. They both turned around and each hooked a copper ring. They were about to pull the door shut when they suddenly felt a pain in the back of their neck. His eyes turned black and he fell to the ground.

Mo Lingfeng walked out, feeling anxious. He stepped on the jailer's hand and walked into the corridor with flickering lights.

When she came, Yushitai Prison was still empty, with only a dark smell. However, over a day and night, a fishy smell accumulated in the corridor, mixed with the pungent smell of medicine, and the smell of defecation. Hidden in the two, it made people feel uncomfortable. Unbearable.

In addition, the damp air also surged up in waves, as fine as ox hair, corroding the marrow of the tarsal bones.