bookrandom Chapter 1100: Love is the most poisonous word in the world
Chapter 1100: Love is the most poisonous word in the world
Shi Anxia's eyelashes trembled slightly when she heard this, and her eyebrows raised slightly. It seemed that these two ministers were not only diligent in their official duties in the court, but also wanted to work together to carry out court affairs back home.
You two are truly in perfect harmony and in perfect harmony with each other.
If nothing else, this is a good idea to save lamp oil.
Shi Anxia pointed at the colorful flowers swaying in the wind and said, "Look at this flower, isn't it beautiful?"
"Beautiful." The two of them said almost in unison, but their answers were very perfunctory.
What's so beautiful about it? Today they both came with court affairs.
Lu Sangyu's wide sleeves held the Ministry of Justice files. He and Shi Chengyi were both working in the Ministry, and they had taken advantage of this break to bring over the official business that needed to be discussed in person.
Yan Xingchen had just discussed the drafted "Canal Memorial" with Shi Yunqi and Qiu Zhiyan, and they were also planning to go to the emperor for his approval later.
Therefore, this dazzling splendor is just a fleeting glimpse in their eyes, and has never entered their hearts.
The important thing was that the east wind gathered the catkins, and the spring water brought together the duckweed. Anyway, today, under the pretext of the Shi family's banquet, we could get these busy people who usually rushed around to gather together and get down to business together.
Seeing that the two of them were both perfunctory, An Xia pretended not to see them, smiled and offered them a seat, and ordered someone to serve them freshly brewed tea.
Amidst the lingering tea mist, Shi Anxia's gaze suddenly wandered outside the pavilion. She saw a cluster of colorful flowers brushing against the stone steps, the chirping of copper bells from the eaves echoing with the cries of orioles, and the sound of water splashing in the distance.
She said calmly, "Heaven's work unfolds, and the four seasons follow one another: spring arrives with the singing of orioles, summer solstice arrives with the humming of brooks; the moon shines through autumn windows, and winter hills are covered with snow. My two lords, in spring you can listen to the rain pattering on banana leaves, in summer you can watch fireflies flickering through the corridors, in autumn you can admire the swaying shadows of osmanthus trees, and in winter you can boil snow to make tea. Don't live your lives like a perpetually leaking copper kettle."
Lu Sangyu suddenly smiled and said, "I'm busy."
Yan Xingchen also agreed, "Well, if I had the time, I could draft a charter."
Shi Anxia: "..."
You two! Go ahead!
The two of them took their leave and happily went to find the emperor.
After Lu Sangyu turned around, a hint of worry appeared on her face.
A trace of dull pain slowly crept into my heart.
He recalled how Lu had picked a pair of lotus flowers in the spring and needed the broadest banana leaf to hold them. She had said that when the banana leaves were stained with the green scent of morning dew, the flowers would appear even more pure.
On summer nights he would catch fireflies for her. She would put them in a round fan made of white gauze, and when she waved it she would feel as if she were holding half of the starry sky in her palm.
She didn't like to pick laurels in autumn, but when the moon was full in the courtyard, she would move a green stone basin and place it under the porch, filling it with mountain spring water, letting the reflection of the laurel branches shatter into golden dust in the clear water. She said this was "the moon moving from the moon palace underwater."
On the winter solstice, she would sweep the plum branches of the third snowfall. Holding a silver-handled bamboo scoop, she would scoop up the fresh snow from the branches and place it in a celadon jar. Before burying it in the cellar, she would cover the jar with three layers of pine needles to prevent dust from tainting the snow spirit.
The following year, she would unseal the pot, pour snow into the silver kettle, and simmer it over a low fire. When the water was about to boil, she picked up a small, half-worn, plain gauze fan, raised her wrist three-quarters, and gently shook it with her slender fingers. Suddenly, a cluster of golden-red flames rose from the bamboo charcoal in the clay stove.
In the hazy white mist, the cold fragrance of aged Mengding stone flowers, wrapped in snow, wafted towards him. He gazed at her, her eyelashes soaked in mist, as her smile, softly lifted by the tea smoke, resembled a pale black magnolia blossoming on rice paper, a touch of tranquility blooming in the season when the snow had cleared.
……
The regrets of this world are so deep and unfathomable that he has lost the strength to bend down and pick the beauty of the world.
Eight years of frost and frost have ripped my heart apart, yet it hasn't managed to erase even a fraction of the pain. It turns out that the righteousness of this world, which should have burned away the sparks of winter, has never warmed a single grain of frozen earth; the thorns that shouldn't have grown, have entangled the human race, causing it to bleed at every step.
Since the rites and laws are as solid as a prison made of iron, he uses his soul as fuel to forge an axe of criminal law.
He decided to devote his entire life to the Northern Wing Code, patching up the numerous holes one word at a time into a blue sky armor, and sharpening each section into a guillotine to cut through thorns.
When the Nine Provinces have no chance for demons to take advantage, and the people have a way to drive away the cold and frost, then I will live up to this life and live up to her.
The sun shone down, stinging Lu Sangyu's eyes so much that they burned red. He tilted his head back and forced the moisture back, leaving only a streak of blood tangled in his eyes like a spiderweb.
Yan Xingchen sighed lightly, "Master Lu, nothing can be forced."
Lu Sangyu turned away, a tear falling down her face. Her heart felt empty. "Well, as long as that person is happy, I'm fine. Well...it's okay..."
Yes, as long as that person is happy, that's enough. Yan Xingchen cast his misty eyes into the distance for the last time...one more look, just one more look.
Her eyes were so greedy, as if she had taken in all the beautiful scenery of her life in one glance.
The man's figure was as tall as a solitary pine covered in snow, his profile carved with a cold, hard edge of gold by the sunlight. He remained upright, his sharp edge slightly subdued.
He actually smiled. The curve of his lips was like a silver blade being unsheathed, and the light that splashed out burned her heart.
In her eyes, he never smiled.
He was a beam of white moonlight on her chest, clear and cold, which disturbed her heart for half her life.
It turns out that the moonlight is even more enchanting than the scorching sun of spring.
Yan Xingchen quickly lowered his wide sleeves to cover his eyes, and his fingertips dug deep into his palms under the silk, using the stinging pain to hold back the tears that were about to burst in his eyes.
When he looked up again, his eyes were clear.
She knew that the man had never looked at her straight in the eye.
His mind and eyes were filled with the woman who had just asked him "Are the flowers beautiful?"
Some people have always mistakenly believed that she likes Prince Guizheng Xiao Zhi.
The middle volume of "Records of Mountains and Rivers of Beiyi" written by Yan Xingchen specifically records the footprints of Guizheng Wang Xiao Zhi in providing disaster relief and helping the people.
People only know that she was away from the capital for more than 400 days, and walked every route that Prince Guizheng had walked, working hard to promote the emperor's merits.
Little did she know that when she described each river, her fingertips were caressing the bluestone left by the man who waded through the water. When she examined the site of each former disaster shelter, her lips were reciting the shadow of the lamplight of the man who stayed awake all night.
Every place is engraved with that person's footprints.
What Yan Xingchen wrote in his hand was Prince Gui Zheng, but what he was thinking about in his heart was the white moonlight in his heart.
Even the retired emperor once asked her if she was willing to be the empress of Emperor Zhaowu.
She replied, "I will never refuse even if it means death."
Because if the groom is not the right one, it doesn't matter who she marries.
It is nothing more than carving a tombstone in one's heart. The inscription on the tombstone bears someone else's surname, while the grave contains one's own uncorrupted infatuation.
Yan Xingchen treated it as a government matter and responded to the words of the emperor.
Her heart can no longer accommodate others.
I seemed to recall that year, in the sparse shadows of the apricot blossoms, the man picked up a pearl hairpin and pinned a stream of soft light like a flowing cloud into the princess's hair.
In the bustling city, the man stood in front of the old pot of roasted chestnuts holding the princess's fingertips, letting the heat turn her cheeks red.
He peeled off the charred shell, twisted the golden chestnut kernel between his fingers and handed it to him. The princess's smile was filled with honey, and with her backhand she pressed the brightly colored candied haws to his lips.
Yan Xingchen stared blankly across the crowd, his eyes blurred with tears.
I wish I could gouge out my eyes! Gouge out my heart! Gouge out this burning greed! Let my blood and bones turn to ash, in exchange for a moment of receiving that endless love.
That would be great.
It turns out that love is the most poisonous thing in the world. It makes you watch helplessly as what you have longed for all your life blossoms into a scorching peach blossom in the palm of someone else's hand.
Yan Xingchen sighed in his heart, Princess Haiyan, I envy you so much, you must be happy forever.