Chapter 1057 This crazy woman wants to murder the prime minister?
Xiao Zhan pushed the warmed wine in front of him and said, "Think about it slowly on the way back to the city. Let's put Fu Dong's matter on hold for now. It will be good for both of you."
The bottom of the jade cup reflected the clear light in his eyes, as if it had already seen through the young man's thoughts.
When the man in blue shirt disappeared at the end of the corridor, Jiang Xue suddenly laughed out loud: "Your cousin is just like the little wolfhound you raised. He has been trained to be so obedient."
"The truth is there, he has to listen even if he doesn't want to."
Xiao Zhan fiddled with the charcoal basin casually, and the sparks that flew up illuminated his angular profile.
Suddenly he felt a slight itch on his neck. It turned out that Jiang Xue was brushing his Adam's apple with the tip of her hair.
“Yun Che.”
She deliberately dragged out the last word: "What you said just now, is it a different way of saying that you like me?"
"Yes." The answer was so clear and crisp that Jiang Xue was stunned.
She simply climbed onto his shoulders and gave him a sandalwood-scented kiss on his chin: "These words are so sweet that my heart is trembling. They remind me of something personal to say."
Xiao Zhan lowered his head and smiled, stroking her earlobe with his fingertips: "Xiaoxue, just say it."
"You make me feel more at ease than my brother."
Before he could finish his words, he felt the arm around his waist suddenly tighten.
Jiang Xue simply leaned against his chest, listening to his steady and powerful heartbeat and continued:
"I always thought that my brother was the best man in the world. He taught me how to read and write, and allowed me to do whatever I wanted.
The revolving lanterns during the Lantern Festival and the dragon boat races during the Dragon Boat Festival were all stained with his shadow.
Snowflakes outside the window rustled against the glazed tiles. She reached out to trace the cloud pattern on Xiao Zhan's collar:
“But ever since you broke in with the wind and snow from the north, I’ve learned what it feels like to be treated like an ordinary woman.
My royal brother gave me ten years of worry-free life, but you promised me someone to rely on for the rest of my life.
The ginseng soup you handed me when I was entangled in political affairs, the warmth of your palms when I was in labor, and the stars in your eyes when you watched your child take his first steps..."
The tail tone turned into a warm breath that fell on his neck: "Yun Che, I want to be the most vulgar couple in the world with you.
In spring I brew apricot blossom wine, in autumn I collect sycamore seeds, and when I am old I can still laugh and say, "Why did you steal my chess pieces again, old man?"
Xiao Zhan gently stroked the brow of the person in his arms with his knuckles, his eyes, like deep pools, filled with unspeakable emotions.
Suddenly he flicked his finger on her forehead and said, "Don't ever mention that word again."
There was a gravel-like bitterness in his voice. Jiang Xue buried her cheek in his palm: "It's up to you."
The agarwood ashes in the copper furnace fell to the ground. They knew better than anyone that since the day they took over the tiger talisman, the so-called lifelong alliance had been soaked in blood.
Avoiding the issue of life and death is just like drinking poison to quench thirst, but they still have to drink this poison.
When the news of Jiang Xiaoan's departure came, Fu Dong was pruning the white plum trees under the corridor.
The silver scissors cut off the dead branches with a "click", but my chest felt like it was stuffed with a ball of water-soaked cotton wool.
She stared at the juice oozing out of the broken surface of the plum branch in shock - she had clearly gotten what she wanted, so why did she feel a rusty smell in her heart?
When Feng Ziqing woke up in the morning and looked in the mirror, the action of the wooden comb combing her hair mechanically repeated twenty-seven times.
The figure reflected in the bronze mirror seemed unfamiliar to her: the figure was like a magnolia on the verge of withering the day before, but now it seemed as if its roots had touched a dark spring.
When she turned her head and glanced at Zhuier, the madness in her eyes was like a poisoned silver needle: "Have you touched my makeup box?"
Zhuier tried to make excuses in his throat, but he instinctively retreated the moment the empress dowager raised her hand.
The wrist bone hit the huanghuali mirror stand, and the copper buckle carved with twin lotus flowers fell off.
The sound startled the guards outside the door, and two shadows blocked the curtains of the inner room like iron towers.
"presumptuous!"
Feng Ziqing swept the dressing box with her wide sleeves, and the pearls rolled all over the floor: "Drag this traitorous slave to the torture chamber!"
Zhuier retreated to the window clutching the torn coral earring, but the guards were like tomb guardians nailed to the floor tiles.
She suddenly understood the hesitation beneath their armor—the crazier the Queen Mother became, the closer she was to the secret decree that would kill her.
From then on, whenever the sound of porcelain breaking was heard in the hall, the guards would count the hours in tacit understanding.
Usually after three quarters of an hour, the Queen Mother would lean against the cracked window frame in a daze, as if the person who had just torn off the curtains was not the same person.
But today was different. Her red-finished nails scratched off the mother-of-pearl inlaid on the window frame, and she was not even aware of the debris piercing her skin.
When the captain of the guards heard the order, he moved quickly and grabbed Zhuier by the scruff of the neck in the blink of an eye and threw her at Feng Ziqing's feet like a sack.
Zhuier's pupils trembled. How could the secret guards who obeyed the Prime Minister last night suddenly obey the orders of the deposed Queen Mother?
Looking at the maid's shocked expression, Feng Ziqing let out a long-suppressed laugh.
Ateli's promise last night to "take power back" had made her half-believing and half-doubting, but now the guards' defection became the most powerful evidence.
She deliberately dropped the teacup at Zhuier's feet, and sure enough, she saw the guards immediately carry out the punishment - that Western witch actually planted the soul-stealing Gu into the secret guard's body!
Crazy laughter echoed in the courtyard, and Feng Ziqing's fingertips dug deeply into her palms.
The depression from being imprisoned for half a year turned into a twisted pleasure, as if he had seen the scene of Jiang Xuefeng's crown falling to the ground and Xiao Zhan kneeling down to plead guilty.
Zhuier, curled up on the blue bricks, felt cold all over. The wooden expressions of the guards reminded her of the indifference of hounds biting their prey.
“Bang!”
The emerald-armored palm slapped Zhuier's ears, causing them to buzz. Feng Ziqing grabbed her messy hair and sneered:
"Do you think you can turn things around by getting close to the Prime Minister? I'll crush you like an ant."
Dark red blood beads slid down the maid's scratched forehead, leaving strange patterns on the bluestone slabs - this crazy woman actually wanted to murder the prime minister?
When Zhuier slammed her forehead against the ground for the fifth time, Feng Ziqing finally condescended to raise her foot and crush her fingers:
"I'll spare your life so that you can watch with your own eyes how that pair of bastards die."
The maid crawled on the ground in the shadow, digging her fingernails into the cracks between the bricks and counting the hours silently, hoping that the Prime Minister's carriage would return soon.
At this moment, a hundred miles away, Xiao Zhan's forehead was oozing with cold sweat.
Jiang Xue held his burning wrist and frowned: "It's only been half a day since I returned to Beijing, how come you have a fever like this?"
The scent of the soothing incense prepared by Imperial Physician Jiang wafted in from outside the carriage curtain, causing the Prime Minister to suddenly shake off his wife's hand, as if what had touched him was a poisoned blade.
"Don't move."
Xiao Zhan's Adam's apple rolled as he swallowed the burning pain, his neck flushed with a sickly red: "You're pregnant, I can't..."
Before he could finish his words, he curled up into a bow and coughed violently, his knuckles clenched so hard that the golden hooks of the bed curtains jingled.
Jiang Xue pressed the mint-soaked silk handkerchief into his palm, and her fingertips froze just before touching.
In fact, she never believed those who said that people were extremely sick. But looking at her husband's trembling shoulder blades, she finally stepped back and sighed, "I'll ask Fu Dong to burn some wormwood. You just have to bear with it until Doctor Jiang comes."
Xiao Zhan felt as if he was in lava purgatory, and the boiling magma in his bones suddenly turned into a thousand-foot-high ice cone.
In the chaos, he heard the rustling of pages. He forced his eyelids open and saw his wife sitting in the candlelight, holding a gilded storybook. The hem of her pomegranate red skirt spread out like a starry sky on the ground.
"Xiaoxue..."
He called her by her nickname in a hoarse voice: "Would you like to read a biography of the Ranger?"
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