Empress Fu Yao [Volume 1] (COMPLETED)✔

Mountain Rain Will Soon Come

Yun Hen anxiously raised his head, glancing at that layer of dense clouds. In the south, the tenth month would still have some hints of summer. When a storm is about to come, even the wind would gust with downcast oppressiveness. With this type of humid wind blowing on one's face, it seemed like with just a squeeze of a hand, water would be wrung out.

There still remained three half-hours, before the imperial family banquet.

Yun Hen's face was ashen while he fixedly stared at the front. The non-stop, swift steps of the guarding soldiers slowly transformed in his vision. Some images deeply buried in his memories, crossed through many years and months, crossed through the river of forgetfulness, and materialized in front of his eyes once more.

... it was also a jumble of legs, passing through his upward gazing vision. Those hurried legs indifferently walked before him. He gasped for breath and held out his hands, in an attempt to grab onto something he could rely on, but instead he was stepped on by some unknown boot. In pain he raised his head, but that boot only, slowly, crushed down.

It was the mass of graves that night. An owl flew past from the forest branches, its wings brushing against and rustling the tree leaves, while letting out a deep sigh that was broken like ghostly wails. He lay on the wet ground, seeing bright glow of the steel shovel as it dug out the bloody mud and splattered it on his face. It blocked his sight, and he couldn't see clearly, couldn't see clearly that inside the pit was ...

Yun Hen's breathing, gradually became rushed.

These nightmares sunk deep into the countless moons of the past – just when would they find their final redemption?

The spark of star fire hovering in his eyes, exploded into a raging inferno. Yun Hen suddenly tightly gripped the sword by his waist, and with a step he wanted to stride out. Yet, someone suddenly pulled him back.

Turning back his head, Yun Hen stared at the Meng Fuyao who had stopped him, and coldly flung her hand away. The star fire twisted and soared in his gaze, as if it could fly out at any moment.

Fuyao was also startled by his unexpectedly cold and piercing gaze. She had seen that Yun Hen looked like he was going to impulsively charge out alone, and so she quickly pulled him back. She had good intentions, not wanting him to go charging to his death, so what was he doing being so angry?

Pursing her lips, Fuyao decided not to argue with him right now, only swiftly making a couple hand gestures to signal for him to turn around.

Some doubt flashed in Yun Hen's eyes, but seeing Meng Fuyao's sure expression, he still did as she said.

Meng Fuyao retreated back a step, furtively cutting down a tree branch from a flowering tree beside her. Holding it in her hand, she attentively whittled and scraped at it, making some kind of long cylindrical object. After weighing it in her hand and inspecting it, she then indecently hid it up her sleeve.

The weather was dim, but that still couldn't cover up the suspicious pink blush that suddenly flushed on her face.

That thing held in her palm was round and thick and long, coarsely rubbing her fingertips. Meng Fuyao's face burned hotter, and she curled her mouth in a helpless smile.

Kao, it was true that a moment of impulse would stir one into muddy waters. It looks like the reputation of this woman's entire life was going to go down the drains in this preposterous Tai Yuan imperial palace ——-

Shen hour, second half-hour.[2]

Inside the brilliantly candlelit Heavenly Peace Hall.