Chapter 093 Chapter 93 (ends with an inverted V)

Furong was exhausted, trying to sit firmly on the throne like before, but now it was not the same as before. After going through so many things, everyone's mentality had changed drastically, and it was impossible for them to look at him the same way as before.

When he realized this, he was sitting in front of the table in Yangxin Palace. The table was piled with memorials, and on the empty seat in the middle were cakes or soups sent by the concubines.

The cakes were colorful, fragrant, and exuded a sweet smell. They looked pink and white. For some reason, when he saw cakes of this color in the past, he would only feel his eyes brighten, but now he only felt sweet, too sweet.

He felt like vomiting.

It was like he used to think that pink was the rouge on a beauty's face, but now he saw it as a rosy skull in disguise.

The Tremella Soup was sticky and white, like a spider's web or a dead silkworm's cocoon, with a corpse inside.

The chicken soup was refreshing, with clear white soup, sprinkled with chopped green onions, and a light layer of oil floating on it. It must have been very appetizing, with tender white chicken, golden chicken skin, round bones, and large white radishes.

But when he got close and smelled it, he could smell a disgusting fishy smell.

It wasn't because the chef's skills had changed, or because he had changed the chef, but because things were different now.

Others could no longer look at him the same way as before, and he could no longer look at everything around him the same way as before.

On the memorial spread out in front of him, all kinds of words were distorted, as if demons and monsters were about to crawl out of it.

Furong felt that she could not go on like this.

He needed quiet, he needed to think, he needed to be alone.

He announced his abdication and became his own emperor, and the next emperor would undoubtedly be Qiu Qu.

His mentality was relatively simple, as if he had not experienced much, so everything in front of him was simple except for difficulties. When he encountered difficulties, he could solve them easily, and when he encountered simple things, he could do it even more effortlessly.

He was a qualified heir, perhaps because he was still young and energetic, had not been suppressed to death, and did not have a deep hatred, and had no signs of madness.

It seemed that he did a good job in all those things.

Furong looked at all this and felt that it was a good idea for her to abdicate, and that he should do more than just this.

He should do something else.

But all the gold, silver, jewelry, silk and satin in the world were in the national treasury, and his private treasury also had many good things. He had enjoyed all the prosperity in the world.

What else was he dissatisfied with, and what else could he do?

He visited famous mountains and rivers, walked and played, asked about the local customs and folkways, and asked his attendants to record. After a few years, the records became a book.

He did not stop, and felt that his life was interesting until he died.

He walked to a bridge, and a blurry old man stopped him. Next to him was a huge pot, purple, with soup inside, shining and steaming.

"You have obsessions in your heart." The old man said.

"Do you?" He didn't understand. "

Yes. If you can't figure it out, you can't pass through here." The old man nodded.

He stood by the bridge for a long time, watching the people in the queue pass by him one by one: "There is only Li Qingshan."