Female tyrant provoked death

Chapter 39 Since we want to love each other, we must get along naturally

In a wing room of Xiangran Villa, Fan Qingtian washed off the fatigue of the day, put on a white brocade lining, giving a lazy look, and then sat cross-legged on the bed to practice internal strength without wasting any time .

In the other room, Mo Fengyan was turning around and sleeping restlessly. The scene of Fan Qingtian ordering to kill his whole family was constantly flashing in his mind, and then he recalled the assassination that night. Fan Qingtian, and seeing the talented and unreal Fan Qingtian today, his thoughts were chaotic and complicated.

As the night darkened, Fan Qingtian who was practicing was still full of energy, but suddenly a lethargy came, and Fan Qingtian immediately fell into a deep sleep, but his body still maintained the state of cross-legged cultivation.

A chilly breath blew against Fan Qingtian's skin, and when he opened his eyes, Fan Qingtian came to the bank of the Wangchuan River again.

The blood-red river is flowing calmly, and the riverside is still full of blood-red Bianhua flowers, and there is still a mountain peak standing in the middle of the river. The light green mist is lingering in the middle of the mountain peak, and the river is also floating with hazy green smoke. , everything looks shadowy and mysterious.

The surrounding area is full of gloomy atmosphere, and the Weisen hall on the top of the mountain is still majestic, exuding a strange breath of death.

Frowning slightly, Fan Qingtian knew that the God of Death had summoned her again, but the abominable thing was that she still couldn't resist and let the God of Death pull her into the illusion.

Staring blankly at the old woman who was still rowing to pick her up, Fan Qingtian remained indifferent.

The boat docked on the shore, "Girl, please get on board." The old woman said in a hoarse and ugly voice.

Knowing that the god of death would not do anything to him, Fan Qingtian was not afraid, nodded slightly to the old woman, and stepped directly on the boat.

The old woman rowed the boat to the edge of the mountain ladder in the middle of the river again, and Fan Qingtian stepped on the human bone ladder of the mountain peak.

This time Fan Qingtian walked all the way to the main hall on the top of the mountain, there was no depressing and terrifying aura like the first time, but the atmosphere was slightly dead silent.

With doubts in Fan Qingtian's eyes, he was thinking about why the god of death asked her to come this time.

Stepping on the last step, Fan Qingtian came to the Senluo Hall again.

On the throne of human bones, it was the first time Fan Qingtian had seen the god of death. He was dressed in a black robe embroidered with gold, and his slender body was full of the kingly style of a world-defying demon god.

Her long silver hair was untied, and fell like a waterfall behind her ankles. The face above the tip of the nose was covered by a black gold mask, but the slashed three-dimensional silhouette was still amazing.

The god of death is still shrouded in mystery, and the breath of death lingers on him, making people feel frightened.

The black eyes under the mask narrowed slightly, and the god of death looked at Fan Qingtian standing in front of him, without any emotion on his face.

This time, Fan Qingtian didn't feel the pressure of death on her, but Fan Qingtian was still on guard.

The two looked at each other, and a weird atmosphere spread in the air.

Before the god of death opened his mouth, Fan Qingtian asked first, "I don't know what the god of death is doing seeing me this time?" The calm voice could not hear any emotion.

Looking away, God of Death waved one hand, and a table made of black crystal and two black crystal chairs appeared in front of Fan Qingtian.

The god of death said calmly with a gentle voice mixed with echoes, "Since we want to love each other, we naturally have to get along with each other. I give you to drink tea and sit with me."

There was a gleam of light in the eyes, Fan Qingtian did not expect that the god of death would really come, but she would not be afraid if the god of death dared to accept the move, she nodded slightly, and Fan Qingtian stepped forward and sat on the crystal table in front of the black crystal table. chair.

And the moment Fan Qingtian took his seat, the figure of the god of death on the human bone throne disappeared from the throne like a trembling shadow, and in the blink of an eye he had already sat on the crystal chair opposite Fan Qingtian.

A tense breath rushed towards his face, causing Fan Qingtian's mood to fluctuate and become tense, but it was only a momentary feeling, and Fan Qingtian's heart regained calm again.

The power of the god of death and the power of Fan Qingtian are one after another. Even if the god of death restrains all the breath on his body, it is inevitable to make people scared. Fan Qingtian is only emotionally driven and tense. Compared with other people, she definitely does it one of the best.

Looking at the Grim Reaper from a close distance, anyone other than Fan Qingtian didn't feel the breath of death, but the Grim Reaper at this moment had an unspeakable loneliness.

His eyes did not turn to Fan Qingtian, the Grim Reaper rested his elbow on the armchair with one hand, and rested his left cheek on the back of his hand. He looked lazy, but his tall and straight figure was still domineering, his eyes were lightly closed, and Grim Reaper seemed to be thinking about something.

Instead of guessing what the god of death was thinking, Fan Qingtian said calmly, "How can I drink tea without tea?"

Withdrawing his thoughts, the god of death sat up straight, and a breath that was as overwhelming as Mount Tai was driven, and the air also stagnated a little with the movement of the god of death.

Frowning slightly, Fan Qingtian felt that sitting opposite the god of death was simply Alexander, if she was her former self, she would not have to be so restrained at all.

Seemingly noticing Fan Qingtian's uncomfortable frowning, the god of death took back all the overflowing breath, and then brushed his white hand across the table.

Where one hand brushed, a set of exquisite tea sets had been placed on the table.

The tea set is made of high-quality carnelian. The red teacup is crystal clear. The cup body is carved with peony, the king of flowers, and the teapot is inlaid with two lifelike dragons. The faucets are protruding from the top of the pot. fine.

And at this moment Death made the tea himself.

Fan Qingtian looked at the God of Death's graceful and skillful tea-making movements step by step, but he seemed a little surprised. Is the God of Death really omnipotent?
The two of them kept silent. Although the atmosphere was tense, it was not awkward.

The iron kettle on the table was filled with cold water and was slowly burning in the charcoal stove. The hand of the god of death was placed on the edge of the charcoal stove. Boiling water.

Sprinkle a touch of tender green tea leaves on the teacup, and raised his hand gracefully. The god of death poured the water in the iron pot on the teacup. The tea leaves floated up with the water flow, and the tea leaves were actually arranged in the shape of a peony flower, which is really magical.

The fragrance of tea overflowed, and light smoke rose from the teacup. Death put down the iron pot, pushed the brewed tea in front of Fan Qingtian, and said calmly with an echoing voice, "Please."

"Hmm." Without a trace of hypocrisy, Fan Qingtian's face remained normal, and he responded lightly, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

After a long silence, Fan Qingtian raised his head to look at the god of death, and softly commented on the tea ceremony, "This is the first tender leaf of the 'Yipinxiang' tea tree that grows in the extremely cold place of Lingshan. , a tree can only pick up to ten leaves, which can be called the king of top-quality tea.”

(End of this chapter)