vixen meets frigid ghost

"Hey, little Qing'er, is your Daoist Xu there?" Hong Yun nestled on the sofa, lazily, with a wordless charm.

"Why?" A soft boy's voice came across, with scrutiny on her.

"No reason, just borrow something from him."

"what."

"A little thing to peek into memory." Hong Yun narrowed his eyes and smiled, revealing a foxy smile.

"A little thing?! Don't overdo it, you know how precious it is! Hmph, Chang Yu won't agree."

"Won't you agree to what?" There was a low and cold tone on the other end of the phone.

"Ah, why are you back?"

"no?"

"Very well."

"Is there something wrong with Mrs. Rong?"

Hong Yun raised the corner of his mouth: "Well, Chang Yu, let's make a deal."

"As long as I am impressed, I don't mind borrowing from you."

"Yeah, that's easy."

...Zhaixing Pavilion's status in history, even surpassing the imperial power, has always been contradictory, but it seems to be harmonious.

600 years ago, the holy son and the eldest princess combined to give birth to a child.

The owner of the pavilion at that time named the child Zheng Xihe, Xihe, Xihe, and the meaning can be imagined.

But the emperor was ashamed of this, he forced the eldest princess to remarry, and sent someone to chase and kill the young boy who was related to him.

The Zhaixing Pavilion was originally not interested in imperial power, and the emperor's suspicion was too heavy, which led to the confrontation between the two.

Originally, he planned to calm down the matter, but after this encounter, the rift became more and more serious.

Clay figurines still have a third temper.

The situation is changing, and the Zhaixing Pavilion and the imperial power have been confronted for more than ten years.

Zheng Xihe, who was the victim and the fuse, grew up quietly on the top of the Zhaixing Pavilion.

Like a blank sheet of paper.

After the emperor passed away, Zheng Xihe, as the heir, would be the master of the Zhaixing Pavilion, but on that day, Zheng Xihe was assassinated.

Not more than fifteen years old.

During the burial, seven or seven panaceas were stuffed into his abdominal cavity, as well as star jade for identifying his identity and a mirror for shielding his breath.

Zheng Xihe is the proud son of heaven, but he gets too little.

Hundreds of years of being alone as a wandering soul made Yan Qing, whom he met for the first time, hold a special place in his heart. Coupled with his company every day, it has developed into an inseparable love.

It's a pity, no matter how much love there is, as a vixen, dissatisfaction with desire is more painful, okay?

"Oh, it looks like you still have to continue practicing." Hongyu narrowly stared at a certain part of Zheng Xihe.

Zheng Xihe started to feel awkward after staring at him.

Zheng Xihe pulled out the memory of his family background, feeling a dull pain in his heart.

What if you can't make the little fox feel comfortable and get kicked?

It hurts even more.

"Do you want me to help you?" Hong Yun narrowed his eyes, looking malicious.

Zheng Xihe looked at her warily, deducing Hongyun's purpose in his heart.

"Of course, there is still a price. How about not making Xiaoyan angry?"

"that's it?"

Hong Yun looked at him contemptuously, "Do you know how difficult it is not to make someone angry?"

"Oh." Zheng Xihe nodded seriously, "How can I help?"

"Cough...you know, the art in the room?" Hong Yun was a little embarrassed. Although Zheng Xihe had been a ghost for hundreds of years, he still kept his youthful appearance and his eyes were clean, which made her feel like he was leading a bad child. .

"I know." Zheng Xihe replied after a while, his face was already flushed.

"Some happiness doesn't have to be a perfect combination to get."

"..." Zheng Xihe's eyes lit up all of a sudden.