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Schemes Of A Flower

Crown Prince Yun Chi chose as his consort the youngest daughter of the Hua Family, Hua Yan, and the news shattered the hearts of countless ladies in the Capital City. It was said: the Crown Prince could write poetry at three, compose essays at seven, debate with the greatest scholars at ten, shoot arrows with precision at twelve, oversee the examinations of all scholars at fifteen, and was regent by the time he was sixteen. He reached the pinnacle in letters, the extreme in martial arts, his looks were world-shaking, and his presence unrivaled. Hua Yan felt as though a gigantic pie had fallen from the sky, landing squarely on her head. From then on, was she to compete with the entire world for this man? -------------------- Yun Chi: Standing at the pinnacle of the Azure Clouds, he learned the art of balance, practiced the strategies of an emperor, envisioned the land and skies in his heart. Within the nine-layered royal palace, he could turn his hands to clouds and his palms to rain, holding sway over the court and the nation, trimming himself into a figure free from desire and henceforth unyielding. Hua Yan: She viewed herself as beneath the dust, with all her emotions and desires, disliking the Son of Heaven's court, preferring the ordinary alleys, treading on ten feet of soft red and experiencing all facets of life. She believed that nothing was better than green mountains and clear waters. "If you promise me a lifetime, I will accompany you for an eternity."

Xiziqing · Allgemein
Zu wenig Bewertungen
558 Chs

Chapter 43 (1 Update)_1

Qiuyue was heartbroken to the extreme, and in her grief, she sobbed until she fainted away.

After a long silence, Hua Zhuo turned around, looked toward Qiuyue who had collapsed under the Phoenix Tree in the distance, watched for a while, stood up and walked over, bending down to pick up Qiuyue.

An Shisan watched Hua Zhuo's extremely calm appearance without saying a word, knowing inside he must be feeling the utmost discomfort. Unlike Qiuyue who could cry it out, but he knew the Young Master would never shed tears. Concerned, he spoke up, "Young Master?"

Hua Zhuo closed his eyes, his voice hoarse, "If that is her fate, what can be done?" He paused, then added, "I would rather she had died four hundred years ago, her soul at peace. I wish she were not my sister."

An Shisan's eyes immediately reddened.

Hua Zhuo opened his eyes, calm at the core, "Go rest."

An Shisan acknowledged and withdrew.