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Free Web Novel,Novel online - All in oicq.net -> Fantasy -> The Four Steps of the Unbridled Sky Volume 3: A blow of destiny, the king appears Chapter 11: Fang Wen Dashan, Zhou Da Jielun
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- The woman closed her eyes and snuggled quietly against the Music Emperor's chest, holding on to her beating heart.
The Music Emperor opened his eyes and saw that this woman was the legendary goddess Wang Yunchan. She had beautiful long hair and a beautiful temperament. Wang Yunchan, tall and slim, said in a low voice: Long, you shouldn't have written "The Book of Forgotten Demons". The heart of the legendary K is broken, broken in the wilderness of a foreign land.
Wang Yunchan picked up the music emperor's heart and listened to it. She heard the deep magnetic voice of the starry sky goddess Luo Xiaoyun, and also heard the coquettish voice of the computer sister.
The passionate and affectionate music emperor is on the verge of collapse, looking at the legendary goddess Wang Yunchan with miserable eyes.
Wang Yunchan sang softly with the most beautiful voice in the world: The moon is full of wolf teeth, the beauty is haggard, she raises her glass and drinks up the wind and snow. Who knocked over the past life cabinet? Stirring up trouble.
"Yuanzijue", after several reincarnations, you can't bring back your frowning and crying beauty! Even though the history has turned to ashes, my love will never die! Prosperity is like three thousand east flowing water, I only take a scoop of love to understand, I only love the butterfly you incarnate.
My hair is like snow, and my farewell is poignant. Who has been touched by my burning incense? Invite the bright moon, make memories bright and love perfect under the moonlight.
With hair like snow and tears flying, who am I waiting for to grow old? In the years when I was drunk in the world of mortals, I will never regret it, and I will carve a monument of my eternal love for you.
Wang Yunchan waved her hand, and a tomb appeared. The tombstone read: Husband: The Proud Music Emperor - Tianjiaolong, inscribed by Wang Yunchan.
Wang Yunchan, who suddenly became disheveled, sang: Laer la la la la la la la la la la.
The Music Emperor pointed to the sky: "The bronze mirror reflects the innocence, with a ponytail. If you act wild, I will accompany you with wine in this life." Then as fast as the wind, a string of words loomed.
A lonely lamp of separation and sorrow stands at the window, pretending behind the door that you haven't left yet. The old place feels even more lonely when the moon is full again, and the candlelight that wakes me up in the middle of the night cannot bear to be harsh.
A pot of wandering wandering around the world is hard to swallow. After you leave, the wine warms the memories and misses you. How can you steal time when water flows eastward? The flowers bloom and mature once, but I miss them.
Who is playing the song Dongfeng Po on the pipa? When I saw you when the years were peeling off the wall, I still remember that I was still very young back then, but now the faint sound of the piano is waiting for you. Have you ever heard it?
Who is playing the song Dongfeng Po on the pipa? Maple leaves dye the story and you have seen through the ending. The ancient road outside the fence leads you through it. Even in the desolate years, you are silent even for minutes!
Thinking of the past, Wang Yunchan burst into tears. With a wave of his hand, he splashed out: "The sky is blue and waiting for the mist and rain, and I am waiting for you. The smoke from the kitchen is rising thousands of miles across the river. The calligraphy written on the bottom of the bottle imitates the elegance of the previous dynasty. Think of it as a foreshadowing of my meeting you."
The Music Emperor waved helplessly: "The blue and white strokes outlined by the embryo are thicker and lighter, and the peonies painted on the bottle are just like your first makeup. The sandalwood fragrance slowly shines through the window and I understand my thoughts. The pen on the rice paper has been half-finished.
The charm of the lady's picture rendered in glaze is kept secret, but your beautiful smile is like a bud waiting to bloom, and your beauty is floating away, reaching a place where I can't reach it.
The white and blue koi fish jump out at the bottom of the bowl. When I copy the Song style inscription, I am thinking about you, the secret you have hidden in the kiln for thousands of years. Extremely delicate, like an embroidery needle falling to the ground.
The plantains outside the curtain caused the showers and the door knockers to turn green, but I passed by the small town in the south of the Yangtze River and provoked you. In the splash-ink landscape painting, you were hidden from the depths of the ink. "
The Music Emperor continues to imitate the songs of ancient China. Expressing the stream of consciousness in the sky: The fog on the ancient road is too thick, and only the reeds are left swaying in front of the eyes. The broken bricks on the ground are used to describe it. The memory hurts even if you step on it.
Wang Yunchan sang: "The moss in the corner is too thick. My thoughts are like a clock that has been set back. The cat outside the fence is no longer favored. So I understand some things."
Music expresses it: the wind chimes under the eaves wait for the north wind, and look forward to a rainbow after the shower.
Wang Yunchan sang: "Who is living in whose story? Who is moved by whom? If you don't believe in fate, your destiny is over."
Music Emperor Shuzhi: Listening and paying attention, whose eyes are red?
Wang Yunchan sang: "Whose past has this flower-shaped flask lived in? We once agreed to seek love from each other. It is fate, who do I want fairness from? I am calm, I am sober, and I am waiting for the response of my sincerity."
Music Emperor Shuzhi: Who has heard the sadness of this flower-shaped flask? I have not made up my mind to work hard on this relationship.
The King of Darkness glanced at the messy bed. There were unread books on the edge, both ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, and they were all new. A cup of tea, strong-colored, burnt-flavored oolong tea, which he has been drinking lately.
He was too busy on Sunday to type. It¡¯s not until after 12 o¡¯clock at night that I can listen to music in an elegant way. Today I listen to popular Chinese-style songs, mainly lyrics by Fang Shan and music by Jay Chou.
"Your tears are weak and hurt, and the pale moon crescents catch the past. The night is too long, and it condenses into frost. Who is feeling the cold despair in the attic?
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ???Flicking, the vermilion window, my life was blown by the wind on the paper. The dream is in the distance, turning into a wisp of incense and blowing away on you in the wind.
The chrysanthemums are broken and the ground is covered with wounds. Your smile has turned yellow. The flowers have fallen and my heart is broken. I lie quietly with my thoughts. The north wind is turbulent and the night is still young. Your shadow keeps cutting, leaving me alone on the lake, in a pair.
The flowers are already late, their brilliance has fallen, and the fate of the withered world is unbearable. Don't worry about crossing the river. Your autumn heart will be torn in two. I'm afraid you won't be able to get to the shore and will be shaken for the rest of your life.
Whose country? Horse hooves beat wildly. My uniform is rustling with vicissitudes of life! The sky is slightly brighter, and you sigh softly, which is so euphemistic for a night of melancholy. "
The King of Darkness saw his reply to the question: "I didn't answer it before, but I suddenly remembered and answered it. Some readers asked me 1. Why is my mind so powerful? 2. Why is it so easy to write a book for the first time without an outline? Just write a million words on any idea?
1 and 2 both have the same answer! Maybe it¡¯s because I know a little about history, philosophy, and law, and in the ideological fields of music and real estate, I think I¡¯m almost at the pinnacle of humankind, which makes me become 1 and 2! Ha ha! Too confusing! "
The prosperous sound escapes into the empty door, disturbing the world. The dream is cold, and after a lifetime, how many love debts are there? If you agree, life and death are waiting, waiting for the growth rings one after another, how many layers of the pagoda are broken? Whose soul was broken?
Running, a residual lamp, the collapsed mountain gate, I waited, turned around and waited for the alcohol, waiting for you to play a guzheng.
??It rains heavily, the old hometown has deep vegetation, I heard that you are always alone, the mottled city gate is entangled with the roots of old trees, and the words echoing on the stone slabs are waiting.
At the same time, he was listening: "The rain is falling in my old hometown and the trees are deep. I heard that you are still guarding the lonely city. The sound of the pastoral flute on the outskirts of the city fell in that wild village. It is us who are destined to take root. Listening to the laughter of the young spring, many people are envious .
"The annals of history are gentle and unwilling, and the writing is too harsh. Fireworks are easy to get cold, and people are easy to separate. But you are asking me if I am still serious?" After thousands of years of deep love, who else is waiting?
And how can the history of Qing not be true? Wei Shu Luoyang City is like you following me. I passed through the world in my previous life and followed me throughout my life. The rain is falling in my old hometown. The grass and trees are deep. I heard that you are always alone. I hear that you are still guarding the lonely city. The sound of the flute on the outskirts of the city. Falling in that wild village, it was us who took root because of fate. It was us who took root because of fate. Jialan Temple listens to the sound of rain and looks forward to eternity. "
He rapped Jay Chou¡¯s simple melody:
The drift at the alley throws away the familiarity of the past. You look in the rear mirror more clearly than in your mind. The distance between you and me is like skidding and drifting. It is far away but seems to be very close.
The flashing of the car lights means that I still care. I saw you getting into his car so carelessly. The horn honked twice means that I will leave. Don't worry, I understand this game.
The sound of the roaring engine is your most annoying melody. It turns into a fantasy song as it travels through the city. While recording like crazy, you forget, forget, forget, forget, forget.
You lose your temper, close the car door and the scent stays in the car. I'm sorry. If you want to leave, you can close the door without force. Use snacks, snacks you are not here to eat. Ice cream melts the beauty of lies around you.
There are no windshield wipers, but they still keep moving around. It¡¯s like memories are waving at me, and the dashboard is spinning wondering if I will understand. No matter how fast I go, I can¡¯t make up for the promise.
The window shakes down and listened to you to listen to your perfect excuses. The opening of the music made me pretend to be moved. If you are intimate, you do n¡¯t need to directed the heart pain. I ca n¡¯t understand it. I will be more sad.
ps: After a busy day, I listened to a song and forgot about the dust, and just made up a few words and a chapter, haha, it¡¯s so confusing, my imagination is unconstrained, keep doing it 3q!!
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