With a shout from the master of ceremonies.
The guests all quieted down and turned to look at the entrance of the ancestral hall.
They seemed to have come just to watch a show.
At this moment, Ling Yongqing was dressed in a dark red wedding gown, with a strange expression on his face that was neither a smile nor a cry.
He carried a memorial tablet in both hands, covered with a red veil, and slowly entered.
A breeze swept by, lifting a veil to reveal the words on the memorial tablet.
Memorial tablet for my beloved wife, Mo Yunzhao.
Everyone felt that as the wind blew and the red veil was lifted, a chilling wind followed, making them shudder.
Madam Qian looked around for a while, then rubbed her arms and muttered to herself, "Could it be a ghost in broad daylight?"
It's already March, and it should be hot, so why is it so chilly right now?
Mo Jinghao glared at her lightly.
Mo Bici snorted lightly. Even if it was Mo Yunzhao's ghost, she wasn't afraid.
If you can kill a living person, what chance do you have of killing a ghost?
Ling Yongqing felt that the gusts of cold wind were on his neck, no, they were blowing against his back.
In short, he felt like his whole body was covered in ice daggers.
Fear made him swallow hard, and his hands and feet trembled slightly.
The fear made him feel as if he had encountered the crown prince.
Mo Yunzhao looked at the people below, all of whom were rubbing their arms.
Turning his head, he saw Ling Jingyu staring coldly at Ling Yongqing, his eyes truly as cold as ice.
If we keep watching, we might get exposed.
She gently poked his arm with her finger.
Ling Jingyu withdrew his gaze, glancing down at her still-slender, white fingers.
Looking up at her again, her once icy peach blossom eyes instantly melted into a pool of spring water, and she smiled, as if all things were reviving and a hundred flowers were blooming.
That smile was incredibly alluring.
Mo Yunzhao quickly looked away and continued watching the commotion.
As Ling Yongqing entered the hall, he felt the chilling coldness of the knife disappear, and straightened his back again.
It doesn't matter.
Even if Mo Yunzhao's ghost came, it wouldn't be to take his life.
Instead, they come with joy to establish this kinship in the afterlife, complete the grand ceremony, and then willingly reincarnate.
She would be happy for him.
That must be it.
The master of ceremonies was the patriarch of the Mo clan.
He glanced at the memorial tablet and said, "Ling Yongqing, do you really want to marry into the Mo family and marry the deceased Mo Yunzhao, and take the surname Mo from now on?"
Ling Yongqing straightened his back and answered loudly, "Yes."
The answer came without the slightest hesitation.
An old man leaned against the plum tree in the corner, twitching his beard.
The clan chief nodded and had someone tie a red ribbon with flowers on it, one end of which was held by Ling Yongqing and the other end was placed in the hands of the corpse in the coffin.
Everything is ready; we're just waiting for the wedding ceremony.
"Wait, are you sure the person lying in here is Mo Yunzhao?"
Hearing the sound, everyone looked up.
It was an old man leaning against the plum tree, his face stern and dignified, accompanied by a fair-skinned old man.
When Ling Yongqing saw him, fear filled his eyes, his mouth was slightly open, and his knees trembled so badly that he almost knelt down.
Father...Father Emperor!
The Mo Jinghao family of three recognized him and stared wide-eyed.
Why is this person from the palace here to join in the fun?
And what does that mean?
Mo Yunzhao raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ling Jingyu.
He shrugged, then gave a charming smile.
Mo Yunzhao quickly looked away.
Emperor Yanwu leaned against the plum tree, not stepping forward, and asked again, "Are you sure you want to marry the corpse in the coffin?"
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