After leaving the Eastern Palace, Nalan Yunzhi returned to the Imperial Study. However, due to her bad mood, she could not concentrate on reading a single word while reviewing the memorials.
Nalan Yunran, who was heavy-hearted, had no choice but to put down the things in his hands temporarily and carefully took down the "Lingyan Imperial Horse Painting" carefully painted by Meng Lishi from the bookshelf next to him.
Gently unfolding the scroll on the imperial desk, a young man in sharp attire, reins in hand, majestically seated on horseback, came to life on the page. Nalan Yunzhi couldn't help but reach out and gently caress the man in the painting, his eyes filled with endless tenderness, as if he was expecting Feng Lingyan to step out of the painting immediately.
"Lingyan..." Nalan Yunzhi stared at Feng Lingyan's portrait, her heart filled with sadness. All the beautiful memories of the past kept flooding into her mind, making her cry again.
"Master." No one knew how much time had passed, but An Yi's deep voice suddenly came over, breaking Nalan Yunzhi's deep attachment to Feng Lingyan.
At this moment, Nalan Yunzhi, who was concentrating on appreciating the painting in front of him, did not raise his head, but simply asked lightly: "Has he gone back?"
Then, Nalan Yunzhi heard An Yi's reply in his ears: "My Lord, not yet. The Second Young Master Feng has gone to the cold palace where An Zihao lives."
"Gone to the cold palace?" Upon hearing this, Nalan Yunzhi suddenly stopped stroking the scroll in his hand, slowly raised his head, and cast his gaze on An Yi who was kneeling in front of the imperial desk.
After thinking for a moment, Nalan Yunzhi said in a cold tone, "Secretly protect the Second Young Master Feng. Don't let anyone mess with him. Also... kill An Zihao. Don't let the Second Young Master Feng sully your hands."
"Yes, master." After receiving the order, An Yi disappeared quickly like a ghost. His figure flashed by and he rushed towards the direction of Wutong Palace.
At the same time, Feng Lingyan, dressed in a white robe and a white gauze veil on her head, had already reached the Wutong Palace.
This Wutong Palace, like the Youlan Palace where Situ Mingting once lived, was used to imprison concubines who had made mistakes.
"Stop! Who are you coming?" The guard guarding the door of Wutong Palace stopped the man in front of him who was carrying a food box with his sheathed sword.
Feng Lingyan said nothing, but leisurely pulled out from her bosom a waist badge that Hua Qingcheng had given her, representing her status as a princess. Seeing that she was from the Eastern Palace, the guards let her pass.
The inner court guard opened the door and warned, "The people living inside were once high and mighty masters. They might be unhappy about being imprisoned here and attack you. Be careful when you go in. If you get hurt, you will bear the consequences at your own risk."
"Thank you." Feng Lingyan nodded slightly.
As the heavy iron chains fell, the door of Wutong Palace slowly opened.
Feng Lingyan walked through the gate, and his handsome figure, like a banished immortal, walked slowly in the courtyard, seeming so out of harmony with everything around him.
Wutong Hall lies in a secluded area of the imperial palace, surrounded by a forest of Wutong trees. The palace has long fallen into disrepair, its walls peeling and revealing the marks of time. The doors and windows are broken, and the cold wind whistles through the cracks, adding a whimpering sound to the desolate atmosphere.
In the courtyard, the leaves on the sycamore trees had long since fallen, leaving only dry, bare branches that swayed precariously in the cold wind. The flowers and plants in the garden had also withered, creating a scene of decay and desolation.
The entire Wutong Palace was empty, the royal family's luxurious decorations in tatters, scattered on the ground, unattended. The beds and furniture looked worn and covered in dust, as if telling of the loneliness and desolation of those who lived here.
In this cold palace, time seems to have frozen, with only the bleak sound of the wind and the silent atmosphere, giving people an endless feeling of desolation and sorrow.
"Look, the emperor is coming!"
As a man opened the door and exclaimed, the demoted servants living in other rooms also rushed out.
"Your Majesty, I am Lu Liangren. You like to listen to my singing the most. I will sing a song for you now. Ah ah oh ah oh..." A man in plain clothes pretended to hold a pipa in his hand, playing and singing. His voice was low and hoarse, like a broken gong.
However, before Lu Liangren finished singing, another man squeezed him out of the way and tightly grasped the corner of Feng Lingyan's clothes. Tears flowed like a spring, and he choked and said, "Your Majesty, I am Yu Meiren. You have praised me many times for my graceful figure and beautiful dancing. Please allow me to dance for you again..."
He was seen dancing as he spoke. However, his skinny body had long lost its former plumpness, and it looked like a dried-up skeleton twisting, which was extremely creepy.
At this moment, another man with disheveled hair and a haggard face suddenly rushed forward, hugged Feng Lingyan's legs tightly, and cried bitterly: "Your Majesty...I am Master Jin. You once said that you were very satisfied with my performance in bed. I am willing to serve you immediately..."
Before he finished speaking, the man let go of Feng Lingyan's legs and began to untie his patched clothes.
"Your Majesty, I am Jiang Liangren. You love the snacks I make the most. This is what I just made carefully in the small kitchen. Please try it!" A ragged and haggard man carefully brought a tattered bowl to Feng Lingyan.
The bowl was filled with sand, pebbles, leaves, and other debris, looking extremely dirty. However, the man looked at Feng Lingyan expectantly, as if he was full of confidence in what he held in his hands.
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