Madam is a Superstar

Queen Mother? Waiting for daily life? Delicious meals?

Song Qing narrowed her eyes very shallowly, and looked Yuan'er from top to bottom, The queen mother will go to the priest, where you come from, go back,

I don't need servants here, and I have no interest in delicious meals.

While speaking, he glanced at several places, felt a few more auras from the dark place, and had the heart to greet the 18th generation of Nangong Yuzu,

What is this for?

Wasn't it because he didn't come forward to greet her yesterday? As for sending so many more people to monitor her?

It is true that the priests of all dynasties will have emperors around them to monitor their every move, but she is probably the only one with so many.

Still leaving?

Looking back, she saw Yuan'er who was still standing in front of her motionless, her glamorous red lips uttered softly and her lazy voice was filled with anger.

Yuan'er blinked her round eyes, My lord, this servant can also make wine, Songhua wine, cinnamon wine, rice wine, plum wine, and these common wines, and this servant is also very good at warming wine.

After finishing speaking, the little girl lowered her head, looking obedient and obedient.

Song Qing: ...

Very good, as expected of the people under Nangong Yushou, who beat snakes and hit seven inches.

He lifted his feet and walked towards the dining room, without turning his head, he said,

Little rich man, take Miss Yuan'er to the wine cellar to choose a jar of wine at random, and let this priest try Miss Yuan'er's skill in warming wine.

In this way, even if you let go.

Yuan'er is indeed good at warming wine, which is very suitable for Song Qing's appetite. After thinking about it, there are so many people in the dark, and there is no difference between one more in the bright.

So I let the little girl stay, I thought I could live a stable life after talking with the concubine,

However, when she could meet Empress Nangong Yu wherever she went, Song Qing deeply felt that either she was unlucky, or Nangong Yu had a serious illness.

,

Imperial Garden, by the Yangliu River,

Song Qing was reclining on the comfortable chair, holding a fishing rod without bait in his hand,

Feeling the warmth of the spring breeze is not pleasant, it can be said that Jiang Taigong's fishing volunteers have been fully interpreted.

How many fish did you catch?

A steady voice sounded behind him,

Song Qing shook the hand holding the fishing rod, and her hairs stood on end. She really wanted to pretend she didn't hear it, but she couldn't live up to it, so she could only get up,

Chen Songqing sees the emperor, heh, hehe, your majesty, what a coincidence, what a coincidence.

As he spoke, he took a step back to better widen the distance between the monarch and his subjects.

Nangong Yu pursed her thin lips straight, as if she wanted to see through the woman with drooping eyebrows in front of her eyes, the emperor's usual awe-inspiring expression was mixed with decadence,

So you don't want to see me?

The words of the king who holds the power of life and death in the world reveal a bit of powerlessness.

Song Qing's long eyelashes trembled, and it was only for a moment, and the slightly turbulent heart lake returned to calm, I dare not.

silence,

There was a long silence.

Until Song Qing felt that her hands and feet were slightly numb when she was saluting, she couldn't help but look at Nangong Yushi,

Only to find that the man's tall and stalwart figure had already left, and another gust of spring breeze blew by,

Song Qing stood there and was a little lost, unable to tell what was going on in her heart.

It's not that he can't detect the change in Nangong Yu's treatment of himself, but it's just a done deal.

The three thousand beauties in the harem are irreversible, and her passionate heart for him has also been withdrawn.

She still couldn't convince herself to serve her husband with others, so why not do it if she just gave up, why bother to repeat the same mistakes meaninglessly.

The days passed by, the cold winter of the twelfth lunar month, the heavy snow,

Inside the warm pavilion of the Priest's Hall,

Song Qing was lazily reclining on the soft red sandalwood couch, playing with the novelty things that Master had just brought back to the palace.