Just like now.
Fu Yue was sitting in the imperial study room approving the memorial, and suddenly lost his mind. The Langhao brush in his hand was left in place for a long time, and the ink stained a large part of the memorial.
She looked down at the soiled memorial.
"..."
Tap the pen on the table.
There was a loud noise.
The surrounding attendants shrank suddenly, and buried their heads lower, for fear that Fu Yue would find someone to vent his anger for no reason.
Fu Yue was thinking about Wen Xian.
She didn't know why Wen Xian wanted to kill her, and she didn't know why he stopped at the last moment.
The phrase "Your heart pleases me" was also lied to by Fu Yue.
The result was beyond Fu Yue's expectation.
Unexpectedly, Wen Xian really liked her.
A somewhat complicated look flashed across the long and narrow eyes of the empress, as well as slight doubts.
If Wen Xian really wanted to kill her.
Fu Yue knew very well that she couldn't escape.
As long as the dagger is smeared with a layer of poison, or Wen Xian doesn't hesitate to stab her down while she is still awake—
She must die.
This is what Fu Yue was puzzled about.
It's not so much that Wen Xian is assassinating her, it's better to say that he seems to be completing a formalistic task, which is still very careless.
It's like playing house.
Fu Yue: "..."
She has some guesses.
Could it be that Wen Xian is a member of a certain killer organization and had to complete the task of killing her, but still couldn't do it because he fell in love with her
I feel that this explanation is a little pale and too far-fetched.
With such an idea.
Fu Yue went to the prison alone.
…
dungeon.
It was already late at night, and a round of pale moon hung alone in the sky. It was covered by clouds in a small corner, and the calmness of the thick ink-like sky was a bit strange.
The moonlight shines lightly.
Through the small window of the cell, it sprinkled on the numb and gray faces of the prisoners.
The inside of the sky prison was very dark, the long corridor had no end in sight, and there was a faint light of fire in the distance. Looking carefully, it was a burning fire in front of the cell.
Cold and humid environment.
Wen Xian was locked in a relatively neat cell by himself. He sat on a clean straw mat with his back leaning against the wall, his eyes were closed, and his lips were pale and bloodless.
Because there is no will of Fu Yue.
The guards in the sky prison didn't make things difficult for him, but provided him with good food and drink every day. On the contrary, Wen Xian didn't move a few chopsticks for the food delivered every day, and his expression became obviously haggard.
Before that, he forcibly received Fu Yue's palm.
Fu Yue didn't tell him to pass on the imperial physician, so Wen Xian's injury continued like this.
Wen Xian remained silent.
It's like wanting to die.
At this time, the guards outside all fainted there, and corpses lay there one by one, in a mess.
It doesn't feel right.
Wen Xian's curled eyelashes moved slightly and opened slowly. Those eyes were always clean and beautiful, but they had lost their former brilliance, and looked as if their hearts were ashamed.
He saw the man in black standing in his cell. The man was wearing a pure black cloak, and he could only see that his figure was a little stooped, and his whole body seemed to be hidden in the darkness.
The man in black glanced at the medicine he sent to Wen Xian, he didn't touch it at all, and he hated the iron for being weak.
His voice was hoarse and harsh, and a little shrill, it was hard to describe at the moment, but it was familiar, but he couldn't tell how familiar it was.
"My lord, what's the matter with you now?"