Fuxing Mengfei

Chapter 202

After a good night's dream, when Mo Xiaowan woke up, the sun was already high.

Getting up and lying on the bed for a while, finally remembered that she wanted to get drunk on Uncle Xuanyuan last night, but she seemed to have lost consciousness in the end.

Right now, my head still hurts, as if I am the one who is drunk?
She rubbed her forehead, the sunlight from outside the window came in, Mo Xiaowan jumped out of bed and leaned against the window to have a look, screaming like ghosts.

"It's over, it's over, it must be getting late, I'm late."

After finishing speaking, regardless of her disheveled clothes, she ran out of the door and ran towards Xifeng Pavilion with bare feet.

"Small bowl and so on."

Yun Gu hurriedly chased her out with her clothes and shoes. Although Mo Xiaowan was barefoot, she ran fast regardless of the pebbles on her feet.

The prince had explained before that she was drunk last night, and she was not allowed to disturb her rest. The master has already ordered Uncle Lu to ask for leave.Uncle Lu had already followed the prince's order and prepared a bowl of sober soup on the table, waiting for her to drink it before having breakfast.

But in the blink of an eye, as soon as Yungu chased her out, she ran into Fenglin and disappeared.

Yun Gu sighed: "This child looks reckless, whose temperament is he following?"

When she saw that she was sleeping like a dick, Mo Xiaowan was anxious!

She didn't remember that she was not wearing shoes until the cobblestones were a little rough, but when she thought of Master Xie Wudi's disappointed eyes, she didn't have time to turn back and put on her shoes, so she simply let loose her hair and ran towards the Xifeng Pavilion with bare feet.

Emperor Xiewu got Uncle Lu's letter early in the morning, and under the big maple tree beside the Xifeng Pavilion, he stroked the qin and other ink bowls.

"Master, Master, I'm sorry I'm late!"

Hearing the urgent shout from the maple forest, he put his fingers on the strings and turned his head away.

The cobblestone path in Fenglin leads to a secluded path, and the sun shines through the gaps in the trees. At the turn of the path, Mo Xiaowan is dressed in a cloud silk brocade robe, adding a little fairy air. As she gallops forward, the waterfall-like blue hair is blowing in the breeze. flying in the middle.

Her white and tender little feet, stepping on the dappled sunlight, flew out from the green maple bushes.

Xie Wudi was absent-minded for a moment, only feeling that the noisy child could be so breathtakingly beautiful.

Mo Xiaowan ran closer, panting and stopped.

Her little face was flushed, because of the strenuous running, the crystal beads of sweat oozing from her forehead were like the dewdrops rolling on the lotus leaves in the morning of the lotus lake small building.

"Master, what's wrong with you?"

Every move of Xie Wudi, his expression was as calm as that of the lotus lake in the Eighth Prince's Mansion. When he smiled, there might be ripples blown by the breeze.

But when he was in a daze like this, Mo Xiaowan really hadn't seen it before.

She stretched out her paw anxiously, and shook it in front of his eyes: "Master, are you really angry with me? I was drunk last night. Alas, I originally wanted to get Uncle Xuanyuan drunk, but what the hell, he is fine. I Drunk myself..."

"Little Wan, how can you run out without shoes?"

Mo Xiaowan felt his body lighten, and Xie Wudi had already hugged him onto the stone pier.

Xie Wudi only felt that her feet, when the sun shines on them, are even more crystal clear like jade, with white blossoms, making people unable to open their eyes.

"Drink less in the future."

He was a little embarrassed and didn't start, but asked: "Why do you want to get the Eighth Prince drunk?"

When this was mentioned, Mo Xiaowan was extremely depressed.

She felt so stupid.

So what if he was really drunk last night?
Her handwriting, not to mention the spirit of Uncle Xuanyuan, not to mention the strength of character in Master's mouth, just the fact that it resembles this, and it has been practiced for so long, is less than one percent of him.

(End of this chapter)