The Emperor's Favorite: The Fourth Miss Ghost

Yun Qingcheng is a good-looking man, with an elegant and gentle temperament like feathers on his body, and a pair of drifting amber eyes, which often have a brilliance that is not different from ordinary people.

At this moment, his amber eyes reflected evil rays of light, and the smile on the corner of his mouth widened, and he said with a smile: "Miss Si is really different from ordinary people, it seems that using red tape to talk to Miss Si is the right thing to do." The king's impoliteness. Since this is the case, the friendship between gentlemen is as light as water, let's not ask about status and status, but only enjoy good wine and delicacies, okay?"

Yun Qingcheng gracefully raised the wine glass in his hand like an elegant and chic lotus flower, the eyes of the charming lake sparkled with strange light, and the smile on his lips was indescribably elegant.

It's a pity that Feng Zhuyue didn't even bother to look at him at all, but the little bird snuggled up to Long Canghao's arms, playing with Long Canghao from time to time, the two laughed happily, and the magnificent King Beiyou on one side , abruptly left out in the cold.

A basin of cold water poured from head to toe.

Mistake, really big mistake.His charm seems to have no effect on the two people in front of him.

Both of them had immune cells in their bodies, completely immune to him.

Just when Yun Qingcheng's hand holding the wine glass was about to freeze, Long Canghao on the side raised his eyebrows, picked up the wine glass on the table, and said coldly: "To King Beiyou."

Feng Zhuyue also smiled and raised the cup in her hand, "It's a pity that it's not night, or I should have applied the sentence, 'Raise a glass to invite the bright moon, and the shadows will form three people'."

It's just that one of these three people is obviously unwelcome.

Feng Zhuyue gently put down the wine glass in her hand, looked at the lake, looked down at Long Canghao who was hugging her, and said: "Cang, Yue'er will play a song for you, okay?"

"it is good."

Feng Zhuyue raised her hand, and Ruolan immediately brought the guzheng up to Feng Zhuyue. Feng Zhuyue was on the deck, making a clean place on the edge, sitting on the floor in groups, not afraid of the dust staining her white Putting the zither between her legs, the melodious sound of the zither pierced through the clouds, the air, and time and space, and fluttered over Nanyue City.

Frozen tears fall like meteors and shatter whose thoughts

Between reincarnations, the previous dust has been annihilated, the blurred face in the dream

Kunlun top rivers and lakes are far away, flowers are fading, flowers are blooming all over the sky

Sighing that the world of mortals has fallen into the beauty of beauty, heaven and earth

Love is like amorous feelings like smoke Pipa has been a thousand years

This life is destined for the next life, the vicissitudes of the sea and the fields become fleeting years

The ancient sword severed the oath of whom the feud awakened

The love that passed away in a blink of an eye reminisces about the past

The dream of Kunlun peak is only for you

Laughing at the world of mortals, painting red faces, floating clouds

Difficult love, but love each other, only envy mandarin ducks, not immortals

The fate of this life and the next life are inseparable

The dream of Kunlun peak is only for you

Laughing at the world of mortals, painting red faces, floating clouds

Difficult love, but love each other, only envy mandarin ducks, not immortals

Love in this life and love in the next life don't let lingering become parting

Yun Qingcheng didn't know that a flute full of jasper appeared there, and played it softly along with Feng Zhuyue's singing. The sound of the piano, the singing, and the sound of the flute mixed together seamlessly.

The crowd wandering on both sides of the river suddenly stopped, closed their eyes, and listened attentively to this song of nature.Not to mention Feng Zhuyue, but Yun Qingcheng, whose flute sound is rare in a hundred years, Yun Qingcheng has reached the point where he is so proud that he doesn't take anyone seriously in terms of his attainments in poetry and poetry.

In this life, I would like to have a bosom friend, what more can I ask for?